#I love that he’s terrible in every continuity

[burdenandacrop]

i need a fic with schlatt or ted (or both (separately)) obsessing over the reader’s tits. like, tongue in there, kisses, squeezing, the sorts.

- angel 💙🪽

˗ˏˋ ❝ developed a taste for you. ❞ ˎˊ˗

oh delicious, delicious, de-LISH. this is rather detailed so i hope you enjoy ! :> i'm honestly so happy someone requested ted, i go guh guh guh over that man.

summary : this is pretty much just straight to the point, not really a plot. giving the entree to you personally.

⋮ ⌗ ┆body worship, INTENSE praising, breeding kink??, a bit- messy??, more subby than anything, fem reader.

schlatt

the night was only growing older, but in his eyes; it couldn't last long enough for his liking. the two of you lazily laid on the bed as the haze of the television purred, your attention more focused on whatever broadcast was playing. his eyes stuck on how your gaze was transfixed on the screen, then slowly down to how your arms were gently crossed. coincidentally, giving him the perfect view of one of his favorite parts of you. the cherry on top being the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts. that thin athletic material was doing you justice, he felt like if he looked long enough he would feel a pool of drool spill onto his lap. it was pathetic but it was a perfect display of just how enamored he was by you.

"this isn't boring to you?" he spoke out, interrupting the silence between the two of you. you cocked your head over to his direction to see the sight of him leaned against the headboard, you knew exactly what lied under the tone of his words. "it's late night tv- what? is it boring to you?" you reply, gently adjusting yourself to face him more. the sudden movement causing a slight ripple to occur with your chest, and it was obvious where schlatt's eyes were wandering. "not what i asked." he muttered, his eyes trailing from your chest back to your face. his tongue slyly fiddling inside his mouth, as if he was trying to manifest the taste of you. he was awfully terrible of hiding how he felt. especially when it entailed when he needed you. every part of you.

"you're not making a lot of sense tonight, are you?" you softly giggle out, the clear message from him hitting you in the face. he didn't care about the stupid broadcast, he was wasted on the thought of you. something that still kept you confused, as to how he was still so caught up with the idea of you. "just thought you'd need something more- what is it." he states, clicking his tongue as he ponders on what to say, his eyes failing him as he eyes your shirt's fabric perfectly creasing with your cleavage. "entertaining. yeah, that." he finishes, letting out a quiet sigh as he tried his best to get a hold of himself. not that he really wanted to anyhow. he knew he was making himself obvious. he wanted it that way.

you drop your shoulders with a sigh that was a silent motion of giving in. your arms relaxing against the fluffy pillows, only giving schlatt a much clearer view of what he so desperately craved for. you softly grinned as you saw him shake his head, looking back up into your eyes with a knowing look. "what's your idea of that?" you chuckle out, only sending him further off the edge. he knew you knew exactly what he wanted to do. you saw how his face gently scrunched from the irritation, "oh please don't play that card tonight, baby." he pleaded, before pushing himself closer to you, softly pressing his lips onto the crook of your neck. the sudden gesture making your needy whimpers escape. "not tonight." he whispered into your neck as his lips continued to place deep kisses along your sweet spots over and over.

he quickly found his left hand groping along the cup of your breast. gently groaning as he felt the weight of it in his palm, his thumb swirling around your nipple. loving how quickly he could feel the bud growing harder under his touch. how excited he could get you, with little to no effort. he was going to put some effort into his work, especially tonight. he really couldn't understand what his deal was tonight, but it felt like he'd never done this before. as if it was a delicacy he was just now granted, all just for him. his right hand began tugging up the shirt, letting his hand roam along your soft skin. the delicate feeling under his fingertips was enough to drive him absolutely crazy. he pulled his lips off of your neck and looked down to the sight of your chest.

he let his hands pull up the shirt as his eyes were stuck on the enveloping scene in front of him, the second your breasts popped out; he was done for. quickly cupping his hands around them and leaning down to latch his lips around the left one. the sudden motion making you fall back, only exciting him further. his low growls escaping his muffled lips as he sucked down, his hands wrapped on the side of your waist as he continued. he loved how your body contorted as he touched you, how you became human clay for him to mold. his fingertips pressed down into your skin as he circled his tongue on your sensitive bud, making sure to keep you in place as he explored every nerve ending. "god, you're perfect." he muffled out as he continued his pacing.

you felt your stomach flip as he said that, he was always treating you as some other worldly being. something you still had to adjust to. your neck crooked back as he continued, hungry and desperate for anything from him. the second he felt your body start to move, his fingertips were quick to hold you down. as if he wanted you to just sit through this and take in every last shock. in which he absolutely did. "you don't even have to-" he groans out as he trips on his own words as he keeps his other hand gripping your free breast. "you don't even have to do anything." he grunted, you looked down to the sight. seeing how knitted his eyebrows were, his eyes shut as he focused so intensely on how he wanted to worship you in this way. it was utter perfection.

his grip on your breast became increasingly stronger, his other hand roaming along your side to keep you steady. "so full." he choked out before peeling his lips off, a long line of saliva connecting his lips from your breast. "fuck." he sighs out, looking back up to you with his warm brown eyes. you knew exactly what that look was. what underlies under the sweet nature of it. he kept his hand on your other one, letting his hand sprawl out so he could get a good handle of it. watching as it moved with him, the weight of it making him want to just pass out right then and there. "need to knock you up just so i can watch em' get bigger." he mumbles out, the desperation growing in his voice. you were honestly too stunned to speak with such a statement from him. you saw how his eyes slowly blinked as he eyed the wet spot on your nipple, aching to just latch right back on.

with that one look, that's all he needed. the longer he looked, the better it was. he took his two hands and pressed his thumbs into each nipple before rubbing gently along the sensitive buds of them, circling his hands to make them bounce right in front of his eyes. the sight was only making things worse, he was even turned on by the veins showing through your skin. in fact, he loved when he noticed you had a new one he could see. just meant that they were getting bigger. more for him to play around with, it was evident he was always going to be a tits guy. "fuck- could you imagine?" he muttered out once more, almost stuck in a haze from how beautiful he found you. even if it was just this one part of you, you knew you weren't going to find another who would eye you like you were some sort of art piece.

he took a soft gulp as he realized the sight was genuinely making him salivate, a bit embarrassed at the fact but who cares. he loved his lady. "might need to make that happen." he whispered as he continued pressing his thumbs into your nipples, loving how you were still so sensitive to the touch. a sly grin growing on his lips as he saw how ready you were. "this is about you, baby." he groans out before pushing your breasts together to slick his tongue between. the warmth making his entire head spin, his eyes closing as he began to lose control of his senses. every little thing was you now. how soft you were. your scent. your porn worthy noises. he was absolutely whipped in the best way possible. "all about you." he groaned out before latching his tongue back onto your left breast, lapping his tongue over and over.

the feeling was beginning to feel a little overstimulating, he could tell as well with the whimpers you were making. he just kept licking the right spot that made you jolt, to the point it could drive you numb. "everything." he muffled through the desperate kisses on you. he shook his head as he continued, "beautiful." it was catching up to you quickly with a feeling you didn't even know you could possess. a sharp inhale shooting from your lips as you felt the shock run through your body. your eyes widening as you realized on what the possible feeling was, schlatt's face poking back up to look at your somewhat distraught look. "thought those were a myth, didn't you?" he snickered out, making you sigh and poke his shoulder with a defeated expression. "you watch too much porn." you mutter softly with a groan. "seems like it came in handy." he said with a shrug. he was such a smart ass, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hated any bit of it.

ted

it was another excruciatingly hot day in LA, who's shocked? at least ted's apartment had decent AC. not good enough to the point you could wear normal clothes though. you had been sitting on his couch in nothing but your basketball shorts from high school and a shirt that didn't make you profusely sweat from the fabric. somehow. you knew ted was supposed to get back to his place sometime soon, or at least he said he would. you knew deep down it was silly to just be sitting here when the two of you were basically just good friends who fucked occasionally. heavy on occasionally too, he couldn't get a hint even if it hit him. you could throw yourself at him and he'd think it was some sort of bit.

now the times he actually got the hint? that was a different story. the secrecy of it all also got you going, considering he was quite- the popular one. to put it in a nice way. hot nerds get a lot of play, okay? you just knew if your friends knew you were smothered by the heat on his couch patiently waiting for him to come back, you'd have a humiliation trial done on you. in which the heat was really about to get the best of you. your eyes wandered over at the numerous quirky wall pieces he had, seeing a small framed photo that looked oddly familiar. your eyes squinting to attempt to make it seem clearer. that effort not working, you rose off the couch and slowly walked over to it. your eyebrows knitted as the realization began to strike you right then and there.

a little polaroid perfect encased in a frame, the two of you. honestly, you assumed he just threw it away. considering it was taken on a night where you had too many cocktails and became a mess of a person. he didn't though. instead, left it on display right in his hallway. a small smile appeared on your lips as you noticed the dark pink kiss mark on the side of his face in the polaroid. did any of it have some sort of meaning? were you looking too far into it? he had plenty of female friends, he probably had numerous photos with his other friends pinned to his walls. your eyes roamed the walls to try and track down any other ones. a wave of ice ran through your body as it hit you. you were the only photo he had on the wall besides the nature or nerd posters. that felt weird. some part of you just wanted to toss the fact to the back of your head.

you brought yourself closer to the framed polaroid, as if you were trying to investigate every little pixel of the photo. maybe there was something hidden behind it, maybe if you just looked close enough. your eyes transfixed on the glass before you realized there was a large fingerprint right where your face was. you couldn't see it unless you moved your head to let the light hit the glass. was the fingerprint his? if so, why would he be ... poking? it? such a stupid small picture was arising so many questions in your head. maybe it was the heat exhaustion, praying that was the outcome of your endless thoughts. right as you were almost booping noses with the glass of the frame, you heard the sound of the front door's locks being jingled. your head whipping around to be met with a sweaty ted, who was wearing a very ill fitting tank top.

"you actually waited up for me?" he chuckled out, as he wiped his face afterwards. quickly shutting the door behind him and fixing the locks, it was LA after all. you were somewhat stuck between speaking and silence. you didn't know which was the right answer. on one hand, you felt like a loser for waiting so long just to see him. then there was the other feeling of just wanting to run into his arms. you couldn't decipher what that collision was. "your ac is better." you stifled out, immediately palming your face internally. what kind of response was that? what has that stupid polaroid done to you? even the stupider fingerprint. he also looked somewhat perplexed on your answer. running a hand through his sweat filled hair, you could see how his pomade was beginning to fail him. those perfect little strands falling on his forehead, he really was a pretty one.

"thought you said my apartment sucks?" he sneered out with a grin, walking over to you and eyeing where you were standing. beginning to think to himself, why on earth were you just looking at his wall art? you tongue your teeth as you ponder on how to back yourself up, "change of heart." you say with a shrug, fully turning your body to him with a weakened grin. "you're so fucking weird." he chuckled out before standing right in front of you, you really couldn't ever get tired of that sight. especially with how he looked right now. his freckled shoulders with the sun-kissed tone. how you could see how dark his eyelashes were from how sweaty he was. really was a sight to behold. "you hang out with me, so what does that say about you?" you shoot back, making him force a pained expression sarcastically. closing his eyes tightly to be dramatic with a wince, "mean too..." sneakily opening up one eye to peek at you with a chuckle before shaking off his expression. "anyways, i gotta hop in the shower." he adds on.

with that, it was as if something overtook you. not exactly sure as to what it was. but you were thinking about him. all day. now seeing all of this in front of you, it was basically a gift. "wait-" you choke out, a bit too dramatically for your own taste but. whatever. he looked to you with a hint of confusion, but also curiosity. "what's with um." you sigh and point over to the polaroid, and look back to him and stick your hands in your pockets to appear more on ease. even if you were the complete opposite. "the uh. picture." you end with, clearing your throat. his eyebrow tilted up and looked to the polaroid, "nice night." he sighed out, his tone a bit more softer. which was surprising considering how he normally spoke. "you didn't notice the gundam poster? just that?" he snickered out, going right back to his normal personality.

"yeah. i saw the- all the nerd shit." you mutter softly, a bit defeated with his reply. you wanted something more. just something to explain the weird gut feeling you had. "i think it's a nice set up." he replied rather quickly, as if he was trying to convince himself of something. you just couldn't tell yet. "you fit well with all my other favorite things so." he adds on hesitantly, looking into your eyes with a slight grin. hoping to anything that could hear him that he wasn't sounding stupid in this moment. you felt the weight lift off of you, as if it was some burden stuck in your chest. without a second thought, you rose your hand to his bicep. just letting it rest there, watching as his eyes followed your hands. suddenly, a quiet beeping could be heard. you cocked a brow as you looked around the room to find out where it was located. ted quickly looked down in embarrassment to his apple watch and smacked it quiet.

your hand left his bicep before you looked back into his eyes with confusion, "what was that?" you question him. he nervously chuckled and shook his head as he tapped his apple watch's screen off. "just- stupid glitch." he stifled out, waving his arm back down to his side. you slowly nod and narrow your eyes at him, not really understanding quite what the hell that could've been. what if it was some other girl trying to get a hold of him? that was the last thing you wanted to know right now. especially in this moment. "well, get it fixed." you state as you raise your hand to rest on his bicep again. you didn't know how to send the right signal, so you were hoping this was gonna do the job. he looked down at you with a grin, his eyes softening as he watched your expression.

then, there it was again. the beeping. now the creeping thought of another girl trying to reach him was settling further into your brain. it had to have been. you remove your hand once again and look down to his watch, but before you could get a good view of what it was. ted quickly pulled it away, tapping away the beeping. "seriously, what is that?" you questioned further. ted's face only growing more nervous, shaking the watch on his wrist. "it's just being stupid." he stammered out, but as he brought up the watch. the screen lit up again. you finally saw what it was. "why is your heart bpm 102?" you ask with concern, which quickly made him pull away his hand and back to his side. "i worked out, remember?" he nervously chuckled out. hoping you'd buy it.

you didn't. you knew there was something hidden under his tongue. you look to him in silence for a moment and look to his arm and back to his eyes. contemplating on what your next plan of action would be. you quickly raise your hand back up and let it rest on his collarbone, immediately feeling as his chest tightened. "you're being silly, yknow tha-" ted tries to explain, but is interrupted by his watch. yet again. your eyes widen and look down to his watch, his heart rate was through the roof. "shit." he sighs out, tapping away the incessant beeping. he knew was in deep shit now, he couldn't play the nonchalant card any longer. you eyed him as you could see the embarrassment filling his face. "stupid watch." he says before sliding it off with a groan. immediately reaching his hands on either side of your head and pushing his lips onto yours. making your balance falter, causing the two of you to crash onto the wall as he hungrily kissed you.

it happened so quickly. what was in the air today? was it his workout? all you knew in this moment was how sweet he tasted, oddly enough. he pulled his lips off of yours, still keeping his hands wrapped on both sides of your head to keep you tightly in his grasp. "this what you wanted?" he breathily stated, his fast movements catching up to him. "you knew that already." you choke out, lightly licking the moisture off your lips. "and you didn't know you made my heart do that by now? bullshit." he stifled out before mashing his lips onto the crook of your neck, dropping his hands down to your breasts. giving them a tight squeeze as he bit down gently on your neck. "keep coming around me and i might have a heart attack." he groans as he muffles through your skin. as odd as the sentence, it kind of made the goosebumps on your skin raise. you had that effect on him?

you closed your eyes due to the ecstasy, quickly wrapping your hands to his back to pull him in closer. you guys have slept together a couple times but something about this felt so different. as if there was hunger bridled into it. you backed your head into the wall, feeling the soft canvas of a painting on the back of your head. hoping you wouldn't cause anything to fall, especially the polaroid. he was quick to pull up your shirt, itching to feel how your skin felt under his hands. the second he knew your skin was exposed he dropped to one knee to better focus his lips on the area. the size difference was making you ready to just pass out. his hands roaming on your hips to stabilize himself better, his soft lips landing on your breasts as he smothered them with deep sloppy kisses. you moved your hand to your shirt to just throw it off, giving him a full view of what he desperately wanted.

"can't believe you trash this." he groans into your skin, letting his hands crawl up your skin to squeeze the bottom of your tits. getting a good handful before sucking down. the sudden shock throwing your balance off once again, but he was ready. grabbing your ass to keep you steady. it was almost annoying of how much he knew. how much he worked on 'perfecting his craft.' you suddenly felt his tongue slip up and all around your breast, sending a shock down your body. it was so messy but it was so worth it. seems it always was when it was him. "you waited here all day for this?" he stops himself to say, looking up into your eyes. "and be honest about it." he breathily states. you look down to him, a bit bummed that he stopped.

"i just want you." you reply, knowing just how pathetic you sounded in the moment. you could almost see his ego grow as you said it too, his stupid smile as he took it in. "glad you held your promise then." he chuckles before mashing his lips back to your breasts, licking up and around your nipple. "reasons why i have you on my favorites wall." he groans into your skin, gripping harder around the edges of your breast. every word he spoke made your spine shake, this was the answer you were pleading for. on top of the electricity he was putting into your body, this was all you could've ever begged for. you grabbed the edge of his chin to bring him up, making him trip and fall onto you. looking you into the eyes as he stabilized him by grabbing onto the wall, "just say it again." he practically whispered. "i just want you." you reply almost instantly, making him slyly grin. "i can arrange that." he chuckles out before mashing his lips back onto yours.

author's note : sorry for the small hiatus !! also holy shit i didn't know how different i write for ted. 😭 butttt !! i hope you enjoy, and i am pleased to tell you i am FINALLY back home and able to write to my hearts contents. gonna be working on submissions all night !! :> thank you all for the sweet messages and patience with lil ol me. you all are SEWWWW KIND !!!

[thefantasyride]

Holiday Bliss

Terry Richmond x OC Black Reader

I've been wanting to write something for Terry for 4 months and I wanted to post ON Christmas and missed the shit by mere seconds. I'm also a procrastinator and terrible at staying focused so I could finish this ON TIME, but I've had this idea since October so I'm posting the shit anyway. Enjoy and Merry (late) Christmas! 🎄🫶🏾

Warning(s): Smut + Fluff

Ryan and Terry decided to spend the holidays together in a cabin getaway, but Ryan had some plans of her own. 🤭

They created an advent calendar of random activities throughout the month up until Christmas Eve. Today’s activities included making gingerbread cookies and swapping one small gift and opening their stocking stuffers.

Ryan carefully iced the last gingerbread cookie before biting into it. 

Her stocking stuffers included her favorite beauty products from Sephora. Terry was sure to get nothing but gift sets. He didn’t have to do much snooping to figure it out. He paid attention to what she always bought, which ones she mentioned wanting to try, and of course what she had in her cart. Terry’s included travel minis too. His favorite hand lotion, gum, new colognes he’d been wanting to try, and a Swiss Army knife.

Terry took his phone out to snap candids of Ryan in her festive headband, robe, and socks. 

“I love your hair like this.” Terry smoothed loose strands away from her face as he stroked her cheek. 

“Thank you baby.” Ryan batted her eyelashes, making a mental note to squeeze a silk press into the hair rolodex every now and then. 

She adjusted her candy cane headband and smoothed out her silky tresses. She sat in his lap to take selfies with him.

“These are gonna be so cute in the scrapbook. I have some other pictures I wanna take too…”

Terry scrolled through the photos smiling.

Ryan stood in front of Terry as she untied her red and white candy cane robe to reveal a candy cane crop top with the matching g-string and thigh high socks. Her pierced nipples pressed against the thin material of her tank top. 

“Shit…” Terry began snapping pics as she blew kisses at the camera and did her signature duck lips with the peace sign. 

She turned around slowly to show off her plump backside. She made her cheeks jiggle as she bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. Terry leaned forward to record her little show as he took in her curvy frame. Thick thighs, soft tummy, and a plump ass with the titties to match all on display just for him.

“I have something else I wanna show you.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

She bent over slowly to hold her ankles and shake her ass cheeks as a red butt plug with a green jewel came into view. 

“Goddamn…” 

She continued to make her cheeks move like water. “You like what you see?” 

“Hell yeah… How long you had this in?” Terry was mesmerized by the way her ass moved with the green jewel nestled in the middle. 

She giggled at the concentration on his face. “Since this morning.” 

Terry hummed as he reached out to rub her ass and thick thighs. 

Ryan kneeled in front of Terry running her almond nails over his muscular thighs, causing the hairs on his arms and legs to stand up.

“Oooh what’s this?” Ryan questioned in a sing songy tone. She rubbed his growing erection before reaching her hand into his boxer briefs. She stared into his stormy eyes as she stroked his dick until it was standing straight up. She spit on the head as she stroked more. 

“Nice and hard just how I like it.”

Terry grunted low in his throat as his dick slapped against Ryan’s tongue as she flicked it across his tip and sucked the head. 

“Shit, Ry…” 

Ryan moaned as she slurped and stroked his dick in tandem. Terry gathered her hair in a ponytail as she pressed her hands against his strong thighs and sucked his dick with no hands. 

“There you go, suck that shit.” 

She began to massage his balls after she spit on his dick and slurped it back up. The combination of her moans and slurping was music to Terry’s ears. 

“Fuck I’m finna bust.” 

“Mmmm give me that nut.” She licked the tip before sucking it again and Terry groaned and grunted as he unloaded in her mouth. Ryan greedily licked it all up. 

“Goddamn, girl…” 

Terry was still hard. He helped her up from her kneeling spot and pulled her into his lap, gripping her ass as he slipped her tongue and sucked on her bottom lip and neck. Ryan grinded against his dick, causing friction to her sensitive clit. The crotch of her thong was soaked and her nipples were hard from his touch. “I want you so bad.”

Terry positioned her on the couch the way he wanted her to get a view of her plump ass plugged up. Ryan rested her head on the back of the sofa as she arched her back. Terry pulled the g-string from between her cheeks to reveal her arousal.

“Look at you creamin’ already. All this for me?” Terry smirked as he spread her cheeks for a better look.. 

“Uh huh.” Ryan’s senses were all over the place. 

Terry lined his dick up with her slit, rubbing the tip against her clit. “Ooooh give it to me please baby.” Terry hissed as he sunk into her tight warmth and she started to bounce.

“Look at me while you throw that ass back. Pretty ass…” Ryan looked over her shoulder at Terry while her hands were planted in front of her. Loose strands from her silk press fell in her face, sticking to her glossy lips as she moaned. Her butt plug began to slip out from her arousal before Terry pushed it back in with his thumb as he delivered steady strokes.

“You nice and full, huh?” Terry teased before smacking each ass cheek. 

Ryan let out a whiny moan in response. “Mmmhmm.. It…feels s-soo g-gooood!” 

Ryan continued to throw her ass back to match Terry’s strokes. She pulled him closer to capture his lips. 

“You’re too far away. I need to feel you.” 

Terry flipped her over, pushing her legs back. He hissed as he slid back in, causing Ryan to cream even more as he hit a new spot. Terry sucked her bottom lip as she squeezed his biceps. Her eyes danced between the small gold chain in her face and his blue-green eyes.

As he leaned closer to her face to kiss her lips, she arched her back at the feeling of him going deeper.

“Oooh you’re s-s-soooo deep!” 

He pressed his hand against her belly as he stroked that spot over and over again. 

Terry took turns toying with each  nipple while rubbing her clit as he sped up his stroke.

Ryan moaned his name as her legs began to shake. “Oh my God, TeeJayyyy!” 

Terry nipped her bottom lip as he pressed into her sweet spot over and over again. “You gone cum for me? Hmm?”

Ryan's skin was warm to the touch, nipples erect, and belly tight. “Oh my God, I’m about to —” Ryan began squirting and creaming before she could finish her sentence. Her pussy clenched around nothing as she panted. Terry rubbed his dick between her pussy lips and against her clit, causing another waterfall.

“Oh FUCKKKKK!” She whined as she tried to control her trembling thighs. 

“Hm, look at that.” Terry looked down in amazement at the mess.

“P-put it b-back in…” Ryan panted as she stared at Terry with pleading eyes. 

Terry obliged as he slid back into her slowly at a steady pace. “Look at you gripping me like that…” 

Ryan clenched around him, causing his hips to falter.

“FUCK, Ryan!” 

She patted her pussy as he came inside. 

Terry leaned in to kiss her lips and all over her face before pulling out to watch their cum slide out of her.  

After their late afternoon session, they showered and fell asleep as their Christmas movie played in the background.

✨ Christmas Day ✨

Terry crunched on a candy cane as Ryan sat the cookies on the coffee table.. 

“Where you get these candy canes?” 

Ryan giggled at his excessive crunching. “You like ���em?” 

Terry nodded as he took another bite off. “They kinda taste like Cream Savers.” 

 “I swear you’re 65 in a 32-year-old body.” 

“Nah, taste it.” Ryan leaned forward to taste the candy cane. 

“It does taste like a Cream Saver but with peppermint. I need to get these again next year.”

 “You ready for your gifts?”

 “Of course!” 

Terry and Ryan were adamant about capturing memories outside of their iPhones. Ryan took the liberty of starting scrapbooks and photo albums when they became exclusive. Road trips, vacations, random picnics at the park, all of it was captured. 

Terry had gotten more into photography recently so she gifted him a camera with all the equipment along with a sports watch he had been wanting. It had a ton of features with interchangeable bands. And it had to have military time settings, of course. Once a Marine, always a Marine. 

Terry unwrapped a handmade scrapbook that included pictures of him and his cousin Mike. They were 12 years apart, but Terry spent most of his childhood as Mike’s shadow. A small smile formed on his lips as memories came flooding back at the flip of each page. Pictures of them at the park with their other cousins, Terry’s little league games, Mike’s high school graduation, and the last family reunion before he went to jail. At the very back was Mike’s hospital bracelet along with his obituary and a few more recent pictures of the two of them. Mike was more than his cousin. He was his big brother. Terry’s eyes welled up with tears when he spotted the first letter Mike had sent him while he was in boot camp. 

“This is —” Terry paused to gather himself. “I don’t even know what else to say…” He pulled Ryan into his lap, holding on to her tightly.

She kissed his face and rubbed his back as he cried . “I know it’s been hard and I wanted you to have something that would help you remember all the happy times. ” 

Terry sniffled into her chest. “Damn, I didn’t expect it to hit me like that. I appreciate this babe.” Ryan wiped Terry’s tears before pressing her lips against his. “Anything for you, my love.” 

Terry collected himself enough to pass Ryan two slender boxes. She tore into the pretty gift wrap and opened the box to a dainty diamond tennis bracelet with her birthstone to add to her bracelet stack. 

“Babe, this is so pretty!” 

Terry smiled at her reaction. “You gotta open the other one too.”

Ryan unwrapped the small square box to reveal a 14K gold bangle engraved on the inside.

For my favorite girl in the whole wide world. Love, TJ

Ryan paused to blink back her tears. The message was so simple, but it came from her loverboy so it was uber special. She couldn’t wait to see it every day while she was getting dressed.  

“I love them both so much, baby! This is the perfect start to my bracelet stack. Thank you, Snookums!”

 Terry snickered at the nickname and kissed her forehead as she sniffled and wiped away tears. 

For the first time ever, Ryan felt completely safe. As the weeks and months went by, the guard she tried so hard to keep up eventually fell down. She allowed herself to be cared for, to have feelings, and be vulnerable. 

“Oh my God, we’ve turned each other into big saps. What the hell is this? Is this what real feelings are?”

“Shit is wild, ain’t it?” Terry chuckled as he shook his head.

 “Very. But I really love it here and I really love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Tags: @megamindsecretlair @westside-rot

I didn't have an official tag list for Terry, but let me know if you want to be added. 💕

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 46

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,320ish

Summary: They finally make it to North Dakota.

Warning(s): lots of movie dialogue, canon violence, injuries, talk of suicide

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan’s thoughts were focused on you despite the fact that he was digging a hole for Charles. Charles’ body was still in the bed of the truck. Laura was still holding onto your body in the backseat. Your body that had yet to go up in flames. Every part of Logan’s mind, body, and soul ached. The damage that his duplicate had done to him where barely healing and his cough was worse than it ever had been. But his focus was still you.

There was no doubt in Logan’s mind that you felt the claws enter you and believed it was him. It was a terrible thing. He needed you to come back so that he tell you it wasn’t him. That he would never have hurt you like that.

Laura watched through her sunglasses as Logan dug the hole, wrapped Charles up in the blanket, and then carefully lowered the man down. Logan finished covering Charles up before walking around to the other side of the grave. His limp was worse and his breathing was labored. Laura slipped out of the truck, taking care to not jostle your body too much and walked over to Logan.

“Well…” Logan spoke up. “It’s got water, and…” Logan’s voice cracked, causing him to sigh. Laura quietly came up beside Logan and gently held his wrist. “It’s got water,” his voice broke again. 

He exhaled sharply, slamming the shovel down before ripping his wrist out of Laura’s grip. Logan walked over to a nearby tree, leaning against it. He closed his eyes, trying to deal when everything, when Laura screamed. Logan’s eyes snapped open to see Laura rushing towards the truck that was now on fire. Logan raced over and grabbed Laura from behind, pulling her away from the flames. She kicked and screamed as she tried to get out of his hold.

“She’s gonna come back, kid!” He shouted over her screaming. “She’s gonna come back.” Logan fell to his knees, keeping Laura against him. “She’s gonna come back… she’s gonna come back… We just have to wait…” Laura stopped fighting, realizing that Logan was rocking her back and forth, repeating, “she’s gonna come back, she’s gonna come back.” 

Laura let Logan hold her as he continued to rock back and forth. Laura watched the fire die down, leaving the truck frame and your ashes. It wasn’t long later when Logan coughed and he fell back, his grip leaving Laura. She turned around to see that he had passed out. 

Looking around, Laura noticed a man and his dog, heading to go fishing. She snuck over their and stole the truck, bringing it over to where Logan was. As she got out of the truck, she heard a gasp and more coughing. She rushed over to see you laying in what remained of the back seat of the truck. Laura climbed up so that you could see her.

“Laura,” you rasped, her blurry figure in your vision. “Laura.” 

Something felt off about this regeneration. You were more tired and still felt some pain. 

“Laura…” you breathed out. “Lo—Logan…”

But then your head lolled back and you were passed out again. Laura found some extra clothes in the stolen truck and dressed you. Then Laura used her strength to place you and then Logan into the bed of the stolen truck. She drove to the nearest town and found a doctor. The doctor quickly took you and Logan back to different rooms. He placed IV’s in both of you before going to take care of Logan’s slow healing wounds. 

Laura was told to wait in the lobby, but she made sure to stay close enough to hear what was going on in the rooms you and Logan were in.

~~~

Logan groaned as he came to. His vision was blurry but it didn’t take long for Logan to realize that he was in a doctor’s office. He coughed, signaling to the doctor that he was awake.

“Welcome back,” the doctor said, moving his chair closer to Logan. “I was starting to think I was gonna have to tell that nice little girl out in the waiting room that her daddy’s gone…. I’d always hoped that I’d get the chance to meet someone like you. There’s so few of you left.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Doc,” Logan groaned as he sat up. “But I really got to get on my way.” He broke into a fit of coughs.

“No, no, don’t do that. What you need is rest and treatment. And your wife—“

“My wife?” Logan took an intimidating step towards the doctor. “Where is she?”

“The—the next room.”

Logan threw open the door and rushed into the next room. There you were, breathing and physically there. Logan collapsed into the chair beside the table you were laying on. One of his arms moved to lay across your torso as his other hand moved to your head.

“It wasn’t me,” he whispered, voice broken. He didn’t even bother to stop the tears that fell from his eyes onto your cheeks. “It wasn’t me, sweetheart… It wasn’t me.”

Laura walked over from her seat in the waiting room to watch the interaction. The doctor gave her a kind smile before gently shutting the door behind her. She stayed against the wall, not wanting to do anything to mess this up.

“It wasn’t me, baby,” Logan continued to cry.

“Lo—Logan?” You rasped, slowly waking.

“Honey,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t me… I promise, it wasn’t me.”

“The claws…”

“They had a—a copy of me. I don’t know how. He looked like a younger version of me. He… He killed you and—and Charles.”

“No. Charles?” Tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Laura? Where’s Laura?”

Her quick feet moved to be on your other side. Laura’s hand took yours, holding it tightly.

“They tried to take her and you,” Logan told you. “I… I almost lost you to them, baby… I almost lost you.” 

Your eyes looked over the scars and bleeding wounds, covered in bloody bandages, across Logan’s chest. It broke your heart to see him like this.

“I’m here, Logan,” you whispered. “I’m right here.” You gave Laura’s hand a squeeze, sensing that she was struggling with the events as well.

A knock sounded at the door and the doctor slipped in with Logan’s shirt. “Here,” he handed it over. Logan took it and put it on. “How are you feeling, Mrs.?”

“I’m fine,” you responded, realizing that you were in a doctor’s office.

“We need to go,” Logan said, standing up.

“What you both need is rest, and treatment,” the doctor retorted. “Especially you.” He pointed at Logan.

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’re not! I mean, I know that you’re different, but that doesn’t change the fact that something inside you is poisoning you. You got to check yourself into a hospital. Find out what it is! For the sake of your family.”

“I know what it is.” 

He slid his arms underneath you and pulled you up into his chest. Laura came to his side, staying close. Laura opened the door, allowing Logan to step into the lobby with you in his arms. 

“Please, mister,” the doctor pleaded. “If you don’t want to go to a hospital, maybe I can help you. Maybe I can run some tests.”

“Look, doc, you seem like a nice guy, alright?” Logan responded. “You wanna save a life, save your own. Forget we were here. Let’s go.”

Logan coughed as he carried you outside. He paused, not seeing a familiar vehicle anywhere. Laura walked across the street, towards a small older vehicle.

“Hey!” Logan coughed. “Hey!” 

Laura opened the truck door and climbed in to the other side using the bench seat. Logan shook his head before setting you inside. You moved to the middle, still tired. Logan slid in beside you.

“You can’t just take shit, you know,” Logan grumbled. You reached over and laced your fingers through one of his hands. He glanced over at Laura. “I don’t know how you got us here but thank you.”

“De nada,” Laura replied. You looked at Laura with a soft smile.

“Yeah—You can talk?” Laura nodded, looking down. “You can talk?” Laura nodded again, this time turning to face you and Logan. “What the fuck? Why in the fuck—What’s all this bullshit been for the last 2,000 fucking miles?”

“Logan,” you tried, only for Laura to begin yelling in Spanish.

“What? Shut up. Shut the fuck up!”

“Logan,” you scolded. “She’s a child.”

“Jonah, Gideon, Rebecca, Delilah, Rictor,” Laura began stating names.

“What? Laura, who are those people?”

“Jonah, Gideon, Rebecca, Delilah, and Rictor.” She dug into her backpack and pulled out an envelope with an address on it. “North Dakota.”

“What?” Logan questioned.

“North Dakota, por favor.”

“Shit, okay. Look—“ Logan tried to grab the object in Laura’s hands.

“No. Por favor.”

Logan was able to reach over and rip it from her hands. “This place. Okay? Your nurse, she read too many stories, you understand? Too many stories!” Laura got out one of her comic books, which Logan quickly snatched away. “I’ve seen it! I’ve seen it, okay? This all here…” He flipped the pages. “None of this… No existo, okay? You understand me? This Eden does not exist.”

“Si! Eden!”

“No! It’s a fantasy, kid. See that? Those are the names of the people who jus made this,” Logan began coughing, “They made this whole thing up. Okay? This whole—It happened once, and they just turned it into a big, fucking lie!” You could tell that Logan’s words held more than just talking about Eden. “That’s all this is.” Laura began yelling in Spanish again. “No!”

“Okay, we’re done with this,” you spoke up. “Laura, stay here, okay?” She nodded. “Logan, get out of the car.”

“What?”

“Do not question me. Get out of the car.” 

Logan coughed as he opened the truck door and stepped out. You followed, shutting the door behind you. 

“We cannot take her to North Dakota,” Logan continued. “It’s a long way and I—you—we can’t do it.”

You stood there for a moment, taking in Logan’s appearance. Just since the start of this journey, you felt like he’d aged so much. You sighed, stepping closer and taking his hands.

“Do you trust me?” You asked.

“What?” He questioned. “What type of question is that? Of course I trust you.”

“Laura believes in this Eden and so do I.” Logan scoffed. “There is nothing left, Logan. Nothing and no one but us. We are not safe back at the mansion, besides the memories are too much. Laura deserves to be safe, to be free… I need you to do this for me… I need you to do this for your daughter.”

You watched as Logan’s eyes flickered from you to Laura. His shoulders sagged, admitting defeat by that action alone. He pulled you into him and held you tightly against him. 

“I can’t go through that again… any of it,” he whispered. “I won’t… I won’t survive.”

“We make sure that Laura’s okay,” you said, “then we deal with everything else.”

~~~

Logan’s blood loss was causing him to be drowsy, barely awake at the well.

“Logan,” you called his name. “Let me drive.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open.

“Pull over. Now.”

Logan sighed, knowing that he couldn’t say no to that tone. You gave his cheek a kiss as he pulled over. Laura climbed into the back of the truck and you slid out of the truck.

“Rest,” Laura urged as you went around to the driver’s side.

Logan moved over before you got into his seat. Unable to control himself, Logan laid down on the bench seat, head in your lap.

“I’ve got you, honey,” you whispered. “Just rest.”

Logan quickly fell asleep as you began driving. Laura watched from the back silently for a few minutes.

“He wants to die,” Laura stated.

“What?” You questioned, glancing back at her through the mirror.

“Charles told me. He wants to die.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“To not let him.” 

~~~

Logan woke up to his head still in your lap and you combing through his hair. There was something off though. You were no longer in the car, you were in a small cabin. You were sitting on a bed while Logan was lying down.

“There you are,” you whispered sweetly. “I was getting worried.”

“Y/N?” Logan coughed, looking around. “Where are we?” He noticed a bunch of kids, including Laura, surrounding the two of you.

“Safe. How are you feeling?”

“Uh,” he coughed, “better. How?”

“They have a serum that makes you stronger.”

Logan noticed the bottle on the table beside him and reached for it. “It makes you crazy, is what it does.”

“We didn’t give you too much. Just enough to help some of your wounds heal.”

“Where’s—Where’s Laura?”

“Asleep.” You smiled down at him. “Get some more rest. You’re still tired.”

Logan’s hands came up and pulled you down against him. “Sleep with me… you need rest too… Need to hold you.” Then Logan fell back asleep.

~~~

Logan jolted away from his nightmare, grateful that he didn’t hurt you and that you were still asleep. He looked over to see Laura staring at the two of you.

“You had a nightmare,” she stated quietly.

Logan nodded with a cough. “Do you have nightmares?”

“Si. People hurt me.”

Logan pulled you against him more. “Mine are different… I hurt people.” Laura stepped forward, digging into her pocket and pulling out the adamantium bullet. “You know what it is?” Logan reached a shaky hand over and took the bullet. “It’s made out of adamantium. It’s what they out inside of us. That’s why it can kill us…. It’s what’s killing me now. Anyway, I got this a long time ago, and I kept it as a reminder of what I am… At one point, I was thinking of shooting myself with it. But I can’t do that to her.”

Laura nodded. “I’ve hurt people, too.”

“You’re gonna have to learn to live with that.”

“They were bad people.”

“All the same.”

~~~

Logan drifted in and out for two days. You worried over him but knew that his body needed rest. When Logan finally woke, the many kids were surrounding him, clipping away at parts of his beard. You walked in on them giggling.

“Oh, Logan,” you covered your hand to try to hide a giggle.

They had cut the hair on his chin and upper lip, similar to how he used to shave. Logan pushed up and stumbled to the tiny mirror on the wall.

“Not funny,” he scolded the kids. “This is not funny!”

“It kinda is,” you said.

Seeing you smiling and giggling made Logan relax a little. It felt like it had been eternity since he had seen those.

“How long have I been out?” He wondered, walking over to you.

“Two days,” you replied. 

“What? We’ve been sitting here for two days? It’s too dangerous.”

“They’re leaving tomorrow before dawn. They’re gonna cross the border. It’s a safe haven.”

He pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours before slowly kissing you. You melted into him as the kids surrounding the two of you said ‘ew’. That didn’t stop Logan, in fact, he held you closer and kissed you more. When he finally broke the kiss, your eyes were glossy. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, cupping your face.

“I just… I love you,” you whispered.

Logan knew that there was more weighing on you, but wasn’t going to press. This was not the time or place.

“I love you too, honey,” he replied.

~~~

Logan sat inside the cabin and watched you interact with the kids around the fire you had started. Night had fallen and you were not about to let anyone go cold or hungry. Logan watched with growing nostalgia of a previous life at the mansion. His head turned as Laura stepped into the cabin.

“Your friends, they seem nice,” Logan commented. “Kind of reminds me of—“ Laura marched away from Logan. “Hey, hey,” he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him, “what’s going on? Huh?” Laura ripped her arm out of his grip. “You’re with your pals. You made it.”

“Where will you go?” Laura asked. “You and Y/N?”

“Nearest bar, for starters.” Laura rolled her eyes and turned away. “Hey, we got you here. That’s all we signed up for… I even gave back the money.”

“Such a nice man.”

“Hey, I never asked for this! Alright? Charles never asked for this. Caliban never asked for this. And they are six feet under the ground! Y/N could have been added to that! Now, I don’t know what Charles put in your head, but I am not whatever it is you think I am, okay? I only met you, like, a week ago… I am not good at this. It’s better this way. Bad shit happens to people I care about… Y/N… It’s selfish to keep her with me. But she’s the only one who can handle me. You don’t need that kid. You don’t. You understand me?”

“I understand.”

~~~

Logan found you on their look out point, all my yourself. You were staring out into the night sky. He made his presence known as to not sneak up on you before he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you back into him. You leaned back further, letting yourself enjoy the small moment of peace.

“You should go with ‘em,” Logan whispered.

“What?” You said, immediately turning gin his arms.

“You should go with them… be free. Make sure that Laura is taken care of.”

You shook your head. “You are crazy to think I’d leave you. Especially to die alone.”

“You don’t need to watch me die, honey. It’s not gonna be pretty.”

“I don’t care. As long as we live, remember? So was that some promise you made a few days ago just to ease your own guilt?”

“Y/N—“

“No! I will not leave you.” His cupped your face to catch the tears falling down your cheeks. “Please don’t ask me to.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart… for everything… I wish that I could have been a better husband… that I could have provided for you better.”

“You did what you could, and that’s enough for me.” 

He pulled you in for a heated kiss. “I can be more,” he whispered against your lips. “Tonight… let me be more.”

“James… you are already more than enough.”

~~~

Logan woke up in the look out to you on top of him. He kissed your head and carefully moved you off before going to look around. It was eerily quiet. The kids—Laura—were all clearly gone. On one of the tables sat the bottle serum with a note that said ‘not all at once’. Logan sighed, looking from the bottle to you. This bottle could help him and you through his last days. 

He walked out to see more of the view when drones sounded from over head. Drones flew over and towards the forest. Movement of dirt caught his eye, making Logan limp towards the binoculars. There at the other end was military grade trucks going through the forest. It was Alkali, going to get the kids. Logan glanced from you to the bottle of serum. You weren’t as fast as him and he couldn’t risk you. Logan grabbed the bottle, the syringe, and knelt beside you.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m sorry… I hope one day you forgive me.” He gave you another kiss before he was rushing towards the forest.

next chapter >

[niallerspayno]

English Love Affair (frat boy Harry x reader) - Fic Request

Masterlist

Inspired by the song English Love Affair by 5SOS

Request for @purplekimijks: What began as a one-time fling quickly evolves into something more as you and Harry find yourselves seeking each other out for frequent, secretive hook-ups. As Ashton’s sister and a songwriter for 5SOS, the situation grows more complicated by the day. Will you and Harry continue with these fleeting encounters, or will you take the risk and make it something real?

Tags: frat boy Harry x reader, Ashton x sister!reader, smut with plot

Author's note: I unfortunately never really got into 5SOS, which is weird because I saw them open for 1D in 2013 and I'm Australian - just incase I get any details wrong about them

...

The tour bus hums beneath your feet, the steady vibration lulling you into a sense of rhythm as you absentmindedly scribble lyrics in your notebook. Life on the road with 5 Seconds of Summer isn’t always glamorous, but it’s the kind of chaos you’ve grown used to—probably a genetic thing, considering your brother Ashton thrives in it.

Being the band’s unofficial fifth member and go-to songwriter is a role you love. You’re good at it, too—helping the boys find the words to match their stories, giving them the push they need when inspiration runs dry. It’s fulfilling, creative, and keeps you close to your brother.

But if you’re being honest, it’s not just the music that keeps you here.

It’s him.

Harry Styles.

You don’t know when it started—maybe the first time you met backstage at some award show, his charm disarming and his dimples practically illegal. Or maybe it’s been brewing longer, a quiet fascination that finally burst into a full-blown crush when One Direction invited 5SOS to join their tour.

Now you see him almost every day. In rehearsals. At afterparties. Lounging around during those rare, stolen moments of downtime. And every time, you’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Not that you’d ever admit it.

It’s dangerous territory, crushing on someone like Harry. Ashton would lose his mind if he found out, and you can’t even imagine the chaos if the rest of 5SOS or One Direction caught wind. For now, you’re content to steal glances, laugh at his terrible jokes, and feel the thrill of his attention when his green eyes linger just a second too long.

“Daydreaming again?” Michael’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to find him smirking at you from across the lounge.

“Just working,” you say quickly, holding up your notebook as proof.

“Sure,” Michael teases, waggling his eyebrows. “Working on a song or working on Harry Styles in your head?”

Your face burns, and you throw a pillow at him. “Shut up.”

He laughs, dodging easily, and Ashton walks in, his expression suspicious. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing!” you and Michael say at the same time, a little too quickly.

Ashton narrows his eyes, but thankfully, he lets it slide. “Whatever. We’ve got soundcheck in fifteen. Let’s go.”

You gather your things, your pulse racing as you follow the boys out. In the corridor, you almost run into Harry himself, who flashes you that devastating grin and holds the door open for you.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it always does around him.

“Anytime,” he says, his voice low and smooth. His gaze lingers, just for a second, and it’s enough to make your thoughts spiral.

Yeah, this tour is going to be complicated.

…

The music thumps through the walls of the club, loud enough to make your chest vibrate. Ashton and the rest of the boys are deep into their second round of drinks, Michael and Luke shouting over each other about who can chug a beer faster. You should probably intervene before they make fools of themselves, but the atmosphere is charged, and you’re not in the mood to play referee.

Instead, you slip outside, the cool night air a welcome relief against your flushed skin. The alley is dimly lit, the sounds of the party muted as you lean against the wall and take a deep breath.

“You, too, huh?”

The familiar voice makes your stomach flip. You turn your head to see Harry stepping out of the club, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black blazer. His hair is a little messy, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to give a teasing glimpse of the tattoos on his chest.

“Needed some air,” you say casually, though your pulse quickens when he walks closer.

“Same.” He leans against the wall beside you, close enough that his cologne—warm and woody—lingers in the space between you. “It gets a bit… much in there.”

You nod, unsure what to say. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the awareness of his presence is almost overwhelming.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The sounds of the city fill the silence: distant cars, muffled laughter from inside the club, the soft buzz of a streetlamp overhead.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Harry says finally, his voice low.

“Just tired,” you lie, forcing a small smile.

He looks at you, really looks at you, and you feel like he’s peeling back layers you didn’t even know were there. “You’re not much of a party person, are you?”

“Not really.” You glance at him, trying to keep your tone light. “But it’s a necessary evil when you’re on tour with two bands of extroverts.”

Harry chuckles, the sound soft and warm. “Fair enough. But you do it well. I’ve noticed you’re good at blending in when you need to.”

His words catch you off guard, and you turn to face him fully. “You’ve noticed?”

He shrugs, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes your breath hitch. “I notice a lot of things about you.”

The air between you shifts, charged with something unspoken. His gaze drops to your lips for a split second, and you’re sure he’s about to say something else, but he doesn’t.

Instead, you find yourself closing the gap.

It’s not planned, not even a conscious decision—just a moment of pure impulse. His lips meet yours softly at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But when he pulls you closer, his hand brushing your waist, the kiss deepens.

The world fades away, the sounds of the city and the party melting into nothing as the two of you press closer. There’s a heat, a hunger, that neither of you bothers to hide.

When you finally pull back, breathless, Harry’s green eyes lock onto yours, and there’s a playful curve to his lips.

“Well,” he says, his voice low and teasing. “That was unexpected.”

You laugh softly, the sound nervous but giddy. “Yeah. It… it was.”

But neither of you moves to step away. Instead, he leans in again, his breath brushing your ear.

“Think you can keep a secret?”

Your pulse races at Harry’s question, his breath warm against your skin. You should say something—anything—but all you can do is nod, your body leaning instinctively toward his.

“Good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing just below your ear. “Because I’ve been thinking about this for a while now.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine. The thrill of his words, combined with the tension that’s been simmering between you for weeks, pushes you over the edge.

“Harry,” you manage to whisper, but it’s less of a protest and more of an invitation.

He takes the hint, his hands finding your waist as he presses you back against the wall. His mouth captures yours again, this time hungrier, deeper, as if he’s been holding himself back and can’t any longer. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, gripping the soft fabric of his blazer as his body pins you in place.

The alley is quiet, the world shrinking until it’s just the two of you. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, skimming the sensitive spot just below your ear. You bite back a gasp, the sound catching in your throat, and he chuckles softly.

“You’re so quiet,” he teases, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. “I was starting to think I’d have to work harder.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him back to you.

He grins against your lips but doesn’t argue, his hands sliding down your waist to your hips. The pressure of his touch is firm, grounding, and you feel yourself melting against him.

“Let’s go,” he says suddenly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, his lips slightly swollen from kissing you.

“Go where?” you ask, your voice breathless.

“Anywhere but here.” He nods toward the club. “Unless you want to risk your brother walking out and catching us.”

The mention of Ashton jolts you back to reality for a split second. This is a bad idea—a terrible idea, really—but the way Harry’s looking at you makes it impossible to care.

“Fine,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel. “Lead the way.”

He takes your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he pulls you toward the back entrance of the club. The thrill of sneaking off together sends a rush of adrenaline through you, and by the time you make it to his hotel room, you’re both laughing softly, your nerves tangled with excitement.

The door clicks shut behind you, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. The room is dim, the city lights filtering in through the window casting shadows on his face.

“You sure about this?” Harry asks, his voice low but serious.

You step closer, your hands sliding up his chest. “Are you?”

Instead of answering, he kisses you again, and this time there’s no hesitation. His hands are everywhere—your back, your waist, your thighs—pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. You stumble toward the bed, his jacket slipping off his shoulders and landing on the floor.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you let yourself fall back onto the soft mattress, pulling Harry with you. His weight presses down against you, solid and warm, grounding you in this moment that feels both thrilling and inevitable.

His lips move against yours, hungry and sure, leaving you breathless as his hands slide under your top, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of your waist. The heat of his touch sparks a fire that spreads through your entire body, your senses heightened by the closeness of him—his warmth, his scent, the soft rasp of his stubble against your cheek.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, his voice lower this time, tinged with impatience and raw need. His green eyes are darker now, locked onto yours, the question more of a formality than anything else.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you pull him down to you, crashing your lips into his, fingers tangling in his hair as you take what you’ve both been craving all night. It’s messy, hot, and desperate, and you feel his groan reverberate against your mouth as he presses his body firmly against yours, pinning you to the mattress.

The shift is immediate. His hands are on you, rougher now, gripping your waist and sliding down to your thighs with a possessive strength that sends a jolt of arousal through you. He’s not gentle, and you don’t want him to be. You arch into him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he grinds his hips into yours, his hardness pressing against you through the thin barrier of clothing still between you.

“God, you feel so good,” he growls, his voice ragged as his lips trail down your neck, teeth grazing just enough to leave marks. You gasp, your body responding instinctively as heat pools low in your stomach.

“Harry,” you gasp, his name falling from your lips like a plea, and it only spurs him on. He yanks your shirt over your head in one swift motion, his hands immediately returning to your bare skin. His palms are hot, his touch firm as they slide over your curves, fingers digging in just enough to leave a sting that’s more pleasure than pain.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathless as he pulls back just enough to take you in, his gaze hungry and intense.

You don’t give him a chance to say more. Your hands move to the hem of his shirt, tugging it off him in a rush before your fingers are on his belt, working it open with shaking hands. He smirks, the sight of your urgency clearly fueling his own, but he doesn’t stop you, his eyes darkening as you shove his jeans down his hips.

He’s on you again, his body pressing into yours with a weight that feels overwhelming in the best way. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider as he settles between them, his lips crashing against yours with a bruising intensity.

Your head tilts back against the pillows as he moves lower, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your chest before his lips trail lower, biting and sucking his way down. Your moan fills the room as he pulls your underwear down with a sharp tug, tossing it aside before his hands are on you again, exploring, teasing, claiming.

When he finally moves back up, his lips find yours again, rough and insistent, and you feel him against you, hard and ready. Your breath hitches as he presses forward, his hand gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place as he pushes into you with one slow, deliberate thrust.

The stretch is overwhelming, and you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as your body adjusts to him. He stills for a moment, his chest heaving against yours as he curses under his breath, his control clearly hanging by a thread.

“Jesus, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice strained. But the pause doesn’t last long. He pulls back and thrusts again, harder this time, and the sharp cry that escapes your lips only seems to fuel him.

The rhythm he sets is relentless, his hips snapping against yours in a way that leaves you breathless. His hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, tangling in your hair, pinning your wrists above your head as he takes you apart piece by piece.

“Look at me,” he demands, his voice rough, and you force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity there steals what little air you had left, and you feel the raw hunger in the way he looks at you, like he can’t get enough.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin against skin, and the soft creak of the mattress beneath you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, your body trembling beneath him as you surrender completely to the heat and intensity of him.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his lips brushing against your ear as he drives into you harder, his grip on your hips almost bruising. And in this moment, you don’t care about anything else—just the way he feels, the way he makes you feel, and the fire that’s consuming you both.

The tension in your body builds with every thrust, every roll of his hips, each movement pushing you further toward the edge. Your nails dig into his skin as your body tightens, every inch of you alive with the electric buzz of him, the heat between you. You can feel him, deep inside you, moving relentlessly, his breath ragged and harsh against your neck.

"Harry..." you gasp, your voice breaking as your body starts to tremble, your chest heaving with the effort to hold on. You’re so close, so close that everything else fades away, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of him and the burning need for release.

"Fuck, I know," he grunts, his fingers gripping your hips harder, his pace quickening, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. His eyes are locked on yours, his face a mixture of concentration and raw desire. "Come on, baby. Let go."

And then, just like that, it snaps. Your body gives way, a wave of pleasure crashing over you, your breath catching as you cry out his name. The world tilts as you lose yourself in him, the intensity of your release leaving you breathless, your body shaking as it waves through you.

Harry’s movements become more erratic, his control slipping as he follows you, his own release tearing through him with a low growl. You feel him pulse inside you, each throbbing wave of his climax pushing you even further into the haze of pleasure, your body still trembling under the weight of it.

He collapses onto you, his chest heaving against yours, both of you slick with sweat, breathless from the overwhelming rush of it all. You lie there for a moment, both of you tangled in the aftermath, the room heavy with the echoes of your connection.

The silence between you is thick, the only sound the frantic beating of your hearts. His hand brushes against your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin there as he raises his head to look at you. There's something almost apologetic in his expression, but also a glint of something deeper—satisfaction, maybe, or desire, or something you can't quite place.

"That was..." he starts, but he doesn’t finish. Instead, he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment, before pulling away slightly to look at you again. "We don't tell anyone about this, right?"

You nod, your fingers lightly tracing the contours of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble under your touch. "Yeah. No one," you agree, your voice still a little breathless, but with a steady resolve.

His lips curl into a small, almost mischievous grin. "But we can definitely do it again, yeah?" he asks, his voice lowering, as though testing the waters.

You can’t help but smile at the suggestion, your fingers running through his hair as you look up at him, the heat of the moment still lingering. "Definitely," you reply, your voice steady, the hint of a laugh in your tone.

He leans down to kiss you again, soft and slow this time, a promise of more, as both of you settle back into the bed, the world outside forgotten. The night stretches ahead, and in the quiet aftermath, there’s only the unspoken agreement between you—what happened stays between the two of you. But it’s not over. Not by a long shot.

...

You wake up to the soft light of dawn streaming through the window, the quiet hum of the city just beyond the walls of the hotel room. You’re tangled in the sheets, your body still warm from the night before, but there’s an underlying tension creeping in with the awareness of what happened. You blink a few times, the events from last night flooding your mind in vivid flashes—his touch, the way he kissed you, the way your bodies moved together, and the marks he left on you.

You feel his breath on the back of your neck before you even realize Harry’s awake. He’s lying next to you, his arm draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, looking impossibly calm for someone who shared such an intense experience with you.

Your eyes widen when you catch sight of the dark purple marks scattered across your neck, a line of them creeping down toward your collarbone. Your breath catches in your throat as you shift slightly, trying not to wake him. Then your fingers trail down to your hips, where you feel the telltale pressure of his hand—the faint outline of bruises, each one a reminder of the night’s wild intensity.

Panic starts to creep in. You have to hide these. You have to figure out how to sneak back to your room without anyone seeing. You don’t even know why it’s bothering you this much; it’s not like you and Harry made any promises, not like anyone would find out. Still, the idea of the band—especially Ashton—finding out makes your stomach churn.

Carefully, you slip out of the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible, but Harry stirs slightly. You freeze, heart hammering in your chest, but he simply groans softly and rolls onto his back, one hand draped casually over his eyes, completely unfazed. His deep voice, laced with sleep, cuts through the silence.

“Morning,” he says, his tone as nonchalant as ever, like he hasn’t just turned your world upside down.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you stand near the bed, searching for something—anything—to cover the marks. Your mind races, fingers fumbling as you search for a shirt or anything that will help hide the evidence.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice low but teasing, not even glancing your way as he stretches. He’s acting so casually about it, like nothing out of the ordinary happened, like he doesn’t see the way you’re scrambling to cover up.

“Yeah,” you mutter, forcing a laugh, though it’s thin and awkward. You grab your shirt from the floor, pulling it over your head in a hurry. “Just, uh... need to go back to my room. Don’t want anyone to notice.”

Harry finally opens his eyes, his lips curling into a small, apologetic smile as he watches you. He sits up, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry about that,” he says, nodding toward your neck and hips, where the marks are still evident. “I didn’t mean to leave them... though, you do look pretty fucking beautiful with them.”

You glance at him, surprised by his tone—genuinely regretful but also teasing, in that way only Harry can pull off. You try not to smile, but it’s impossible not to. The apology, even if wrapped in his usual charm, makes something warm stir in your chest.

“Doesn’t matter,” you shrug, trying to brush it off, even though you’re clearly bothered. You finish pulling on your jeans, quickly tugging the fabric over the marks on your hips. “I’ll figure it out.”

Harry slides closer, his hand reaching out to gently tug your chin so you’re looking directly at him. His expression softens, and he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that’s much gentler than anything from last night—sincere, almost apologetic.

“Next time, I’ll be more careful,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm against your skin. His thumb traces the side of your neck where the marks are, making you shiver. “But I’m not sorry for last night. That was perfect.”

You lean into him, kissing him back for a moment longer before pulling away. "You really have to stop marking me," you tease lightly, but you can’t help but grin. "People are going to ask questions."

He grins back, his lips curving into that devil-may-care smirk. “If anyone asks, we’ll just say we were... being friendly,” he says, his tone playful but laced with that same intensity from the night before.

You laugh softly, but there's a tightness in your chest that you can’t quite shake. As much as you want to be carefree like him, you know the reality of sneaking back to your room is a little more complicated.

“I’ve got to go,” you say, standing up quickly, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation. “Before anyone notices.”

Harry nods, his smirk never fading, his eyes still gleaming with that mixture of mischief and satisfaction. “Don’t worry, babe. I won’t tell anyone.”

You pause, glancing back at him as you reach for the door. “I’ll see you later.”

He leans back on the bed, his hands behind his head, looking completely unfazed by the chaos of the night you both shared. “You know where to find me,” he says, his voice casual, but there’s that familiar undercurrent of promise.

You slip out of the room, your heart pounding, your mind racing. The door clicks shut behind you, and for a moment, you just stand there, breathing in the cool hallway air. It feels like everything just changed, and you’re not entirely sure how to process it. But as you make your way back to your room, you can’t shake the feeling that this won’t be the last time Harry’s hands leave marks on your skin.

...

You walk into the breakfast area, trying to shake off the lingering tension from last night. Harry’s already sitting with a coffee, looking casual as ever. You meet his gaze, but the smile he gives you is knowing, making your pulse race for a second before you force yourself to act normal.

The rest of the band is chatting, and you take a seat, trying to ignore the burn of the marks on your neck and hips. Ashton’s eyes keep flicking to you, the silence between you palpable. You can feel the weight of his stare.

Liam, ever the conversationalist, breaks the tension with an innocent enough question. “Hey, what’s up with you two?” he asks, glancing between you and Harry.

Harry shrugs, cool as ever. “Nothing, mate. Just breakfast.”

You nod quickly, sipping your coffee, trying to seem casual. But Ashton’s quiet. He’s not buying it. His eyes flick to your side, where you shift uncomfortably. “You okay?” he asks, his voice sharp, before glancing at Harry with suspicion.

“I’m fine,” you snap a little too quickly, and Harry intervenes just in time, his voice smooth and easy. “We’re all just adjusting to the time change, right?”

Ashton hesitates but then shrugs it off. The conversation moves on, but you feel like something’s off.

Then Niall spots the marks on your side. “Hey, what’s that?” he asks, pointing. “New ink or something?”

Before you can answer, Louis leans in with a grin. “Bite marks? Who’d you go home with?”

You force a laugh, brushing it off. “Just some random guy from the club. It didn’t mean anything.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “A random guy at the club? Didn’t expect that from you.”

You shrug. “Sometimes you just need to blow off steam.”

Louis teases more, but Ashton’s quiet, his jaw tight as he observes. “Sure,” he mutters, his tone colder. “Nothing.”

You feel the shift in the air, Ashton’s unspoken frustration hanging between you, but you stay silent. Harry gives you a small nod, his eyes locking with yours for just a second before turning back to his coffee.

The rest of the conversation continues, but you can’t shake the feeling that everyone knows—or at least senses—something happened. And you’re left trying to keep it together, even though the heat from last night still burns beneath your skin.

...

A few days have passed since breakfast, and things have shifted, though no one’s mentioned last night’s heat. The band is busy with rehearsals and interviews, and the air between you and Harry feels charged, like electricity just waiting to snap.

That night, after the show, you slip away from the usual after-party chaos. You need to clear your head, to get some space from the noise and the people, but the moment you step outside, your gaze lands on him. Harry’s leaning against the back of the venue, hands shoved in his pockets, watching the stars like he’s waiting for something—someone.

You’re not sure what pulls you to him, but you find your feet moving before you can stop them. When he sees you, that smirk appears, the one that you know so well, and his eyes light up.

“Thought I’d find you out here,” he says, his voice smooth but with a hint of playfulness.

You stop in front of him, the cool night air biting at your skin. "Couldn't sleep," you reply, your heart already picking up pace as he steps closer.

"Couldn’t sleep, huh?" He steps forward, his hand brushing against yours. The simple touch sends a wave of heat through you, making it impossible to ignore the tension between you two. “I think I might be able to help with that.”

The words hang in the air, thick with meaning, and without thinking, you close the distance between you. His lips find yours almost instantly, pulling you into him. The kiss is hungry this time, no teasing, just raw need.

His hands are on your body, pushing you against the cold brick of the building, his lips trailing along your jawline, down your neck. Every movement is deliberate, urgent. You gasp when his teeth graze your skin, a rush of heat flooding your veins. You can feel him hard against your stomach, and it makes you dizzy.

“Right here?” you ask breathlessly, your hands running over the muscles of his back, the tension in his body matching your own.

He looks at you, his green eyes dark and intense, a spark of mischief dancing in them. “Why not?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s just us.”

You don’t hesitate. With a quick move, your hands are tugging at the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion. His skin is warm under your fingers, and your breath catches when his lips find yours again, harder this time.

You can’t keep up with the speed of it, the way he’s pushing you toward a part of the alley where the shadows swallow you whole. His hands move over your body, finding the zip of your jacket and pulling it down. Every touch, every movement sends you spiraling. There’s no waiting this time, no slow build-up. It's frantic, raw, like you’re both trying to chase the same thing.

You help him out of his jeans, the fabric sliding off his legs just as you pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. The cool air hits your bare skin, but Harry's warmth, the heat of his body, is enough to make you forget the chill.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he lifts you up, pressing you against the wall as your legs wrap around his waist. His lips are back on yours, and you can feel the intensity building again, the desperation of it. You feel his cock against you, and a shiver runs through you at the feel of him, so close, so desperate.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as his hands find their way to your hips, guiding you toward him. The way his fingers dig into your skin makes your heart race even faster.

The way he enters you, quick and relentless, takes your breath away. The world narrows down to the sensation of him filling you, the rhythm of his thrusts, the pressure in all the right places. You meet him with equal urgency, the rhythm between you sharp and frantic.

It doesn’t take long for the heat to build, for the world to go blurry and insubstantial. You’re caught in the force of it, lost in the way his body moves against yours, in the sound of his breath, his low groans as he pushes deeper.

It’s raw, fast, just what you both need to feel alive. The noise around you fades into nothing. All that exists is him—his touch, his body, the overwhelming heat that’s too much and not enough at the same time.

And when you reach the edge, when everything seems to come apart at once, you feel him release into you, his grip tightening as he lets out a low, guttural sound that makes you dizzy. It crashes over you like a wave, pulling you under, and you cling to him, riding the wave of pleasure until it finally fades.

You both stand there for a moment, catching your breath, leaning against each other for support. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, still breathing heavily. “You good?” he asks, his voice soft but rough from the intensity of it all.

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him, feeling the aftermath of everything. You didn’t know it would feel this good—this easy, this undeniable. But it does.

“I’m good,” you reply, your hands still on his chest, feeling his heartbeat match your own.

He smirks again, leaning down to kiss you one more time, his lips soft now, slower, almost tender. "This isn't over," he murmurs against your lips. "We’re not done yet."

You pull back slightly, looking at him with a knowing smirk of your own. "I think we both know that."

...

A few days later again, and the night is loud, the music and chatter from the party blending with the thrumming bass of your own pulse. You're moving through the crowd, adrenaline pulsing, and you know exactly where you're heading. You don’t need to find him—Harry’s always in the same spot, tucked away from the chaos, waiting for the perfect moment.

You don’t waste time looking for him. As soon as you find him, you step into his space without hesitation. He’s leaning against the wall near the back of the venue, his eyes immediately finding you as you approach. The air between you thickens, a knowing tension hanging heavy in the seconds before you speak.

He smirks, his lips curling, but his eyes are dark with something more dangerous. “You alright?” His voice is low, deliberate, the edge of it making your pulse quicken.

You don’t answer with words. You reach up, your fingers curling into the collar of his shirt, and pull him into a hard, bruising kiss. The kind that burns, urgent and hot. No hesitation. No sweet words. You’ve had enough of waiting, of being passive.

Harry’s hands find your waist, but you don’t give him the chance to pull you closer. Instead, you shove him back, pinning him against the wall with your body. His breath hitches, and for a moment, you feel his control slipping.

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “Not this time,” you murmur, your voice rough with desire. “I’m in charge tonight.”

Harry’s lips part, a flicker of something dark passing through his gaze. He’s caught off guard for a second, but the challenge only fuels him. He smirks, but it’s different now—almost predatory. “You sure about that?”

Without answering, you grab his wrist and tug him toward the back hall. There’s a small storage cupboard just around the corner, hidden from the rest of the crew. You reach it quickly, slipping inside with Harry close behind you, your back pressing against the cool metal door.

The moment the door closes behind you, it’s like the world shrinks to just the two of you. There’s no one around to stop it, no one to see what happens next. And that’s exactly what you want.

You waste no time, pushing him up against the shelves, the sound of metal scraping against the wall echoing in the small space. Your hands are on him instantly, pulling at his jeans, your mouth on his neck, the heat between you rising fast. There’s no teasing, no soft caress—just the immediate pressure of wanting him, needing him, right here, right now.

Harry’s hands come to your hips, fingers digging in as he tries to guide you, but you won’t let him. You’re not here for him to control. You kiss him again, harder this time, your hands undoing his belt, unzipping his jeans with quick, practiced movements. When you pull him free, his breath catches in his throat, and you feel him twitch under your touch.

“You think you can just take over?” Harry’s voice is low, rough, and it makes your pulse race even faster.

“You’re about to find out,” you respond, your voice steady despite the heat building inside you. You drop to your knees in front of him, not wasting a second before you take him in your mouth. It’s quick, sharp, the way you want it. His groan fills the small space, and you feel the way his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling you closer.

You know he’s holding back, fighting against the rush of pleasure, but you won’t give him the chance to regain control. You move faster, harder, your mouth working him while your hands hold his hips still, forcing him to take everything you give him.

“Fuck,” Harry groans, his voice strained, low. His grip on your hair tightens, his chest heaving as he struggles to stay in control. “You’re gonna make me lose it.”

You look up at him, meeting his darkened gaze, and you can see the struggle in his eyes. It’s almost like he wants to push you away, take the lead again, but he can’t. Not now. You’re too far in control. You pull away for a moment, and his eyes flicker to yours with frustration.

But before he can say anything, you grab his wrist and pull him into the corner of the cupboard. The cramped space forces you both closer, heat between your bodies rising by the second. You push him back against the shelves, your hands sliding over his chest before you drop to your knees again, taking him in your hand, guiding him where you need him most.

This time, there’s no slowing down. You lower yourself onto him in one quick motion, feeling the stretch of him fill you completely. The angle is different, sharper, and the way he groans under you sends a thrill of power through you. You move against him, setting the pace, your body riding him with the urgency of a fire you can’t put out.

His hands grip your hips, but you don’t let him take over. You fuck him harder, faster, feeling the pull of your body tightening with each movement. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the small space, your breath coming in quick bursts, matching the frantic rhythm between you.

“You feel so fucking good,” Harry mutters, his voice low and raspy as his hands grip your waist, pulling you even closer. He’s close, you can feel it. But you don’t stop. You drive yourself harder onto him, taking him deeper with each thrust.

The heat builds, pressure coiling tighter and tighter until, with one final, sharp push, you both come undone. The force of it takes you by surprise, your body trembling as you collapse against him.

You’re both breathless, sweaty, and still reeling from the intensity. Harry holds you close for a moment, his hands running up and down your back, trying to steady both of you. You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a smirk.

“You didn’t think I could take control, did you?” you tease, your voice husky with satisfaction.

Harry chuckles, his lips brushing your forehead as he presses a soft kiss there. “You fucking blew me away, love,” he mutters, his voice filled with admiration and something else—something you can’t quite place.

You smile against his chest, the rush of power fading as you both come back down. You’re not done, not by a long shot. But for now, you both stay there in the cramped storage cupboard, tangled in each other’s arms, letting the aftermath wash over you.

For now, it's just you and him.

...

The next day, you walk into your hotel room, exhausted from the day's events, only to find Harry waiting for you. The door clicks shut behind you, and before you can say anything, he’s there, stepping toward you with that same confident smirk on his lips. His eyes are dark, and his stance says it all—he’s taking control again.

You try to keep your cool, but your pulse is already quickening. You hadn’t expected him to follow you, hadn’t thought he would be here, but now that he is, there’s no denying what’s about to happen.

“Still thinking about last night?” he asks, voice low and teasing, as he reaches you in two strides.

You can barely find the words. All you can do is stare back at him, your body reacting before your brain can catch up. “I thought we agreed—”

“We did,” he cuts you off, his hand brushing lightly against your arm, sending a shiver through you. “But I think it's my turn again.”

His mouth is on yours before you can protest. It’s a demanding kiss, his lips parting yours with purpose. His hands quickly make their way to your body, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat of him, the hard press of his chest against yours. There’s no room for hesitation, no time to think. He knows what he wants, and he's making sure you know it, too.

“Take your clothes off,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to let you breathe, but his eyes never leave yours.

Your body moves almost involuntarily, your shirt falling to the floor as he watches, his gaze intense. There’s something about the way he looks at you now that sends a rush of heat to your core. You can feel your body responding before you even realize it, your breath catching in your throat as he moves closer.

With one swift motion, he pushes you back toward the bed, never breaking eye contact, his hands on your waist, guiding you down. You’re almost powerless against his grip, the way his hands are everywhere, touching, exploring, pulling you closer.

"Stay still," Harry growls as he hovers over you, his lips trailing down your neck. His touch is rough, deliberate, his hands gripping you like he owns you. You try to fight it, try to hold on to some sense of control, but it’s impossible.

His mouth moves to your neck, biting down hard enough to make you gasp, leaving marks, branding you in a way that only he can. "You’re mine, remember that," he mutters against your skin, before trailing his lips lower, down your chest.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, his fingers are at your waist, slipping under your waistband. You tense at the suddenness of it, but there’s no stopping him. He doesn’t give you a chance to breathe before he's moving, quickly and efficiently, pulling you closer, his mouth returning to your skin.

“Missed this,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding over your hips, his touch like fire.

He flips you onto your stomach before you can even react. His hands grip your hips, pulling them up, positioning you exactly the way he wants you. You brace yourself, knowing what’s coming. It’s not gentle. He’s not gentle. His hand smacks against your ass, hard enough to sting, and you gasp.

“Don’t move,” he growls, his voice rough as he enters you in one swift motion. The force of it makes you cry out, the suddenness taking your breath away.

He doesn’t wait. His thrusts are relentless, harsh, driving into you with a power that has your body shaking. There’s nothing soft about it. Nothing tender. It’s all control, all power, and you can’t help but give into it, letting him take you in a way that only he can. The bed creaks beneath you, his hand still gripping your hip with a bruising force, and the sound of his skin meeting yours fills the room.

He’s rough, pushing you to the edge, your body moving with his, the tension building in your stomach. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his pace quickening. The marks on your neck throb with every movement, the bites and bruises adding to the intensity. You can feel him everywhere, his hands, his mouth, his body against yours.

It’s not long before you feel the tension snap, your body clenching around him as you cry out, your release crashing over you. Harry doesn’t stop. He keeps going, chasing his own release, his grip tightening as he finishes with a low groan, his body shuddering against yours.

He stays inside you for a moment, his hands resting on your hips, before he pulls out slowly. You collapse onto the bed, breathless, the marks on your neck and hips still stinging with the reminder of what just happened. He doesn’t move away. Instead, he leans down, pressing a kiss to the marks he left, his lips lingering on your skin.

"Next time, don’t try to fight me," he murmurs, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll make sure you remember who’s in charge.”

You can’t help but shiver at the thought, your body still tingling from the aftermath. Harry pulls away, his expression smug as always, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

...

The night air is thick with the promise of something to come, the city lights flickering below as the storm clouds gather above. You’ve been feeling the electricity between you and Harry all evening, the kind of tension that only seems to grow the longer you spend together. Tonight, something is different—there’s an undeniable pull that neither of you can ignore.

You’re in Harry’s hotel room, lounging on the couch, the hum of the city barely reaching your ears through the thick glass windows. Outside, the wind picks up, and you catch the first few drops of rain against the glass. You glance over at Harry, and your heart races at the sight of the mischievous grin that’s spreading across his face.

“You know,” he starts, voice low and tempting, “I’ve got a better idea than staying in here.”

Before you can ask, he’s already pulling you to your feet, his hand gripping yours with a firm urgency. The way his eyes glint with intent sends a thrill running through you, your pulse quickening. Without a word, he leads you to the door, and your stomach flips with the knowledge of what’s about to happen.

As you step into the hallway, the sound of rain grows louder, and Harry’s grip tightens around your wrist, guiding you toward a hidden staircase. “You’ll see,” he murmurs, a devilish smile tugging at his lips.

The air is charged with something unspoken, and as you ascend the stairs, you can feel the growing anticipation, your heart thumping in your chest. The storm outside is starting to pick up, a low rumble of thunder echoing in the distance. As you reach the rooftop door, Harry opens it, and the full force of the rain hits you—cold and sharp, the droplets crashing down as you step onto the wet rooftop.

The view is breathtaking, the city sprawled out beneath you, the sky above heavy with rain. You can hear the sound of water pounding against the pavement, but it doesn’t drown out the rush of your heartbeat as Harry turns to face you. His lips are on yours before you can even think, hot and insistent despite the cold rain soaking through your clothes.

“You’re crazy,” you murmur between kisses, your hands gripping his shirt as the rain drenches you both.

“You have no idea,” Harry replies, his breath hot against your ear. He pulls back for a moment, looking down at you with that smirk of his. “Let’s take this somewhere... a little more private.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs your hand and leads you toward the far side of the roof, where a small, secluded corner offers some shelter from the storm. The wind howls around you, but the heat between you both only intensifies. Harry’s fingers work their way down your body, pulling you closer, your breath coming faster.

He presses you against the wall, his lips finding yours once more in a kiss that’s rough, desperate. His hands slide under your clothes, the cold rain making his touch even more electric against your heated skin. There’s no teasing this time—he’s all urgency, a desperate need that matches the pounding rain around you.

“Harry,” you gasp, your hands pushing his shirt off, “we shouldn’t be—”

But you’re cut off by his mouth trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands push you further against the wall. His words are muffled against your skin. “We don’t need to care about that now, do we?”

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins as you feel his hands tugging at your clothes, eager, impatient. The rain pelts down harder, drenching both of you, but it only makes everything feel more intense—more real. You’re soaked, and yet there’s nothing about the cold that can stop the heat building between you two.

He drags you up against him, his lips moving with feverish need, kissing you in the rain like it’s the only thing that matters. You can barely keep up as he lifts you, pressing you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pushes you further into the corner.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Harry mutters, his voice rough and low as he grinds against you. His hands roam, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can’t get enough. You respond with equal hunger, the rain streaming down your face, the world falling away as you lose yourself in him.

His lips trail down to your neck, biting into your skin, leaving a mark that’s sure to last. The cold rain and the heat between you are at odds, yet they make everything feel more electrifying. You can’t stop your own moans, your fingers tangled in his wet hair as you pull him closer.

“Harry,” you whisper, your voice breaking as he moves faster, more urgently, each thrust more demanding than the last.

With each breathless moment, you know this won’t be the last time you end up like this—caught between the madness of the storm and the chaos of everything you two are. You’re both drenched, but it doesn’t matter. The rain may fall, but it’s the fire between you that keeps you both burning, relentless, until the world outside seems to disappear.

...

A few weeks have passed since that first hookup with Harry, and the tension between the two of you has only grown. The encounters have become more frequent, more intense. Sometimes it feels like there’s no hiding what’s between you, even though you’re doing your best to keep it under wraps. Harry’s smirks have become a constant, and the moments when he looks at you with that knowing glint in his eyes have started to make your stomach flip every time.

The bands—5SOS and One Direction—have started picking up on it, though no one’s come right out and said anything yet. There’s an unspoken feeling in the air, a shift in the dynamic, but everyone’s too polite—or too unaware—to confront it directly. The only one who seems to have picked up on something more than the others is Ashton. He’s been quieter, his eyes lingering on you with that concerned look you’ve come to recognise. He’s your brother, and you know him well enough to know that he senses something, but hasn’t quite put his finger on it.

You’re sitting backstage, your guitar resting on your knee, the hum of voices and instruments in the background. You’ve been working on a new song—one that’s personal, raw, and a little too close to the truth for comfort. The lyrics have poured out of you, each word more revealing than the last. It’s about what’s been happening with Harry, about the passion, the uncertainty, and the way he makes you feel all at once. You’ve titled it “English Love Affair,” a playful nod to the chaos of your tangled situation.

It’s time to show the guys. The atmosphere is a bit lighter today, everyone milling around in a relaxed mood after a long rehearsal. You grab your guitar, your fingers hovering over the strings as you make your way to where 5SOS and One Direction are gathered. Ashton notices you first, giving you a small smile, though his eyes still hold that familiar concern. The others are scattered around the room, laughing, teasing, but there’s a flicker of interest when they see the guitar in your hands.

“Got something to share, love?” Louis calls out from across the room, his voice loud and playful.

“Yeah, she’s been working on something,” Niall adds, eyeing you curiously.

You take a deep breath, nerves fluttering in your stomach. You’d been writing for months, but this one—this one feels different. The song is about Harry. About all the emotions, the heat, the connection, and the chaos of what you two have been doing. You’re not sure if you’re ready to show them yet, but if anyone’s going to understand, it’s them. You know how to separate your personal feelings from your music, but with this song, it’s a little harder to mask it all.

“Yeah,” you reply, strumming a few notes to test the sound, “it’s... a new one.”

Ashton steps forward, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall. His eyes are on you, searching, but there’s a quiet understanding there, even if he’s not sure what’s going on. You meet his gaze, offering a quick smile before looking down at your guitar.

The guys quiet down as you start to play, the melody flowing easily as you strum the chords. Your voice fills the space, the words slipping out with a raw honesty that makes your heart race:

“It started on a weekend in May I was looking for attention, needed intervention Felt somebody looking at me With a powder white complexion, feeling the connection

The way she looked was so ridiculous Every single step had me waiting for the next Before I knew it, it was serious Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car”

As you sing, the room grows quieter. The words, the rawness, the honesty—it’s clear this is something personal, something deeper than the usual pop tunes they’re used to hearing from you. You continue, each verse building with the tension that’s been hanging between you and Harry:

“When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain I can't forget, my English love affair Today, I'm seven thousand miles away The movie playing in my head of a king size bed means I can't forget My English love affair My English love affair”

The last chord rings out, and the room is silent for a moment. You lower the guitar, waiting for their reaction, your heart thudding in your chest. Ashton is the first to speak, his voice quiet but steady.

“So, what’s this really about?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and something else—something you can’t quite read.

You don’t know how to answer. The song is about him, but it’s not. It’s about the complications, the passion, the messiness of what’s been happening between you two. It’s about more than just sex—it’s about feelings, connection, confusion. But you know the guys won’t get that. They’ll just hear the lyrics, the heat, and they’ll know. They’ll know exactly what you’ve been hiding.

You hesitate for a second, then shrug, trying to play it off. “It’s just a song. You know, inspiration. Whatever comes to mind.”

But Ashton doesn’t seem convinced. His gaze sharpens, and you can feel him trying to decipher what’s going on. The others, though, are still taking it in, the intensity of the lyrics lingering in the air.

“I mean, it sounds like something... more than just a song,” Luke says, his tone casual but with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re not fooling anyone,” Michael adds with a smirk.

You try to laugh it off, but Ashton’s stare is unwavering. He’s not buying it. He knows something’s up, and though he’s not pressing you for answers, you can feel the weight of his silence.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Just some fun lyrics.”

But in the back of your mind, you know that everything is far from just “fun” anymore. The song says it all, even if you’re not ready to admit it.

...

It’s late, long after the song reveal. The buzz of everyone’s reactions still lingers in the air, but you’ve distanced yourself from the others, needing a moment alone to process it all. You’re sitting in the corner of your hotel room, the soft hum of the city filtering through the window. The lyrics you poured out have left you raw, the reality of what you’ve been doing with Harry settling heavily in your chest.

Writing the song made you realize something you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge before: you want more. This—whatever this thing is between you and Harry—isn’t enough. It’s thrilling, electric, and addictive, but it’s not real. And you can’t keep letting it consume you if it’s never going to be anything more.

The knock at your door startles you. You already know who it is before you even open it. Harry stands there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his signature smirk in place. But there’s something more in his eyes tonight—a flicker of something softer, almost vulnerable.

“You were brilliant today,” he says, his voice low. “The song... it’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” you reply, your voice quiet but steady. You step aside to let him in, but as you close the door behind him, you already know how this conversation will go.

Harry wastes no time. The moment you’re alone, he steps closer, his hands finding your waist as his lips brush against your neck. “You know,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, “I can’t stop thinking about that song. About you.”

You place your hands on his chest, stopping him gently but firmly. “Harry,” you say, your voice soft but resolute.

He pauses, pulling back slightly to look at you. His brows furrow, and you can see the confusion in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “I can’t do this anymore,” you say, your words steady but heavy with meaning.

His hands drop from your waist, and he steps back, his expression shifting to something you can’t quite read. “What do you mean?”

You meet his gaze, determined not to waver. “I mean this. Us. These... hook-ups, the sneaking around. It’s not enough for me, Harry. Writing that song—it made me realize I want more. I can’t keep doing this if it’s never going to be anything real.”

Harry’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he might argue. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You know how complicated this is,” he says, his voice quieter now. “With the bands, the press... everything.”

“I know,” you reply, your tone softer but still firm. “But that doesn’t change what I want. I can’t keep being this... secret. If you don’t want more, then we need to stop.”

The room feels heavy, the weight of your words hanging between you. Harry looks at you, his green eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right thing to say. But he stays silent, his hesitation speaking louder than any words could.

You feel your chest tighten, but you force yourself to stay strong. “I care about you,” you continue, “but I can’t keep pretending this is enough for me. So unless you’re ready to make this real, we go our separate ways.”

Harry’s gaze drops to the floor, and you can see the conflict written all over his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“I mean it, Harry,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks back up at you, and for a moment, you think he might say something—anything—to fight for you. But instead, he nods, a small, almost imperceptible gesture.

“Alright,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart aches, but you know you’ve made the right choice. You step back, giving him the space to leave, and after a long, silent moment, he does. The door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving you alone in the quiet room.

You sit down on the edge of the bed, your emotions swirling as you try to process what just happened. It hurts, but deep down, you know you deserve more. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to love you out loud, someone who will choose you without hesitation.

And if Harry isn’t ready to be that person, then it’s better this way.

...

The greenroom hums with pre-show energy—chatter, guitar tuning, the low buzz of excitement. You sit on the couch, your notebook resting on your lap, though the words you’re scribbling barely register. The tension in your chest is suffocating. Since giving Harry your ultimatum, he hasn’t acted on it, and it’s tearing you apart. Worse, the teasing from both bands has started to escalate as they slowly piece things together.

“So, Y/N,” Louis calls out, his grin mischievous, “who’s the muse behind your little ‘English Love Affair’ masterpiece?”

Your head snaps up, heat crawling up your neck. “It’s just a song,” you reply quickly, forcing a light tone.

“Sure,” Niall drawls, smirking. “Except it sounds like someone’s been dragging you up staircases and kissing you in the rain. Pretty specific, if you ask me.”

Michael leans back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “And the sudden obsession with scarves? You trying to start a trend or cover up some marks?”

Liam chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Definitely the latter,” he murmurs, though there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“I knew something was up,” Luke adds, his teasing smirk widening. “You’re glowing, Y/N.”

“Alright, alright,” Calum cuts in, laughing. “Who’s the mystery guy? Come on, spill.”

The room falls quiet as everyone turns their attention to you. Your heart pounds, panic tightening your throat. Before you can stammer out a response, Ashton’s voice cuts through the noise.

“That’s enough,” he snaps, his tone sharp and unyielding.

All heads swivel to him, the easygoing atmosphere evaporating. He pushes off the wall where he’d been leaning, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes dart between you and Harry, narrowing as the pieces click into place.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Ashton’s voice is low, but the anger simmering beneath it is unmistakable.

Your stomach twists as the room goes deathly silent. Harry, sitting on the armrest of a nearby chair, stiffens but doesn’t look away.

“Ashton—” you start, your voice trembling, but he holds up a hand to stop you.

“Don’t,” Ashton says, his gaze locked on Harry now. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Harry rises to his feet, his expression calm but guarded. “Ashton, I—”

“You’ve been sneaking around with my sister,” Ashton interrupts, his voice rising. “Sleeping with her behind everyone’s back? Leaving marks all over her? And now you’re stringing her along like she’s some casual hookup?”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “It’s not like that,” he says firmly.

“Oh, really?” Ashton’s laugh is cold and bitter. “Because it sure as hell looks like you’re screwing her over—physically and emotionally—while you figure out whatever it is you want.”

“Ashton, stop!” you plead, stepping forward, but Zayn gently places a hand on your arm, holding you back.

“Let them talk it out,” Zayn says softly, though his dark eyes are watchful.

Harry steps closer to Ashton, his voice tight but steady. “I care about her,” he says. “More than you can imagine.”

“Then why are you hurting her?” Ashton demands, his face red with anger. “You’re leaving her bruised, confused, and heartbroken, Harry. That’s not love—that’s you being a selfish prick.”

“I know I’ve messed up,” Harry snaps back, his composure finally cracking. “I know I’ve handled this all wrong. But I’m not using her. I’d never do that to her.”

Ashton scoffs, his fists clenching at his sides. “You already are. If you cared about her, you’d stop treating her like some dirty little secret and give her the respect she deserves. She’s not just some girl you can screw around with—she’s my sister.”

Harry flinches at that, the weight of Ashton’s words visibly sinking in.

The tension is suffocating, the room silent except for the heavy breaths of the two men squaring off. Finally, Louis breaks the silence with an awkward cough. “Well… this is fun,” he mutters, earning a glare from both Ashton and Harry.

“Ashton,” Liam says gently, stepping forward. “Maybe give them a chance to work this out?”

“There’s nothing to work out,” Ashton retorts, his eyes narrowing. “Harry knows what he needs to do. Either step up or stay the hell away from her.”

“Ashton, I can handle this,” you say, your voice trembling but firm.

Ashton looks at you, his expression softening slightly, though the anger in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I hope so, Y/N,” he says quietly. “Because you deserve better than this.”

He turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The echo rings out in the silence, leaving everyone in a tense, uneasy stillness.

Harry turns to you, his face unreadable. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

You nod, though your chest feels tight. “Are you?”

He doesn’t answer, his gaze dropping to the floor. Because the truth is, neither of you are okay.

...

The steady patter of rain against the hotel window is the only sound in the room as you sit on the edge of the bed, your legs crossed, your fingers lightly tapping the sheets. You’ve been staring at the door, thinking about everything that’s happened—the conversation with Ashton, the way he confronted you, and how much of your own behavior you’ve been running from.

When the knock comes, you know it’s him.

“Come in,” you call out softly, your heart thudding in your chest.

The door creaks open, and Harry steps inside, looking hesitant but determined. His hair’s damp from the rain, his jacket clinging to his shoulders. For a moment, he doesn’t move, just looks at you, eyes searching, waiting for permission.

He steps closer, his voice low when he speaks. “I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. For the way I’ve been handling this... or not handling it.”

You don’t respond immediately, your mind racing with the weight of everything. You’ve been torn in so many directions lately, guilty for the way you’ve been playing this game with him, unsure if you were using him to fill a void, or if it was something deeper.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were nothing more than a distraction,” Harry continues, his voice thick with sincerity. “But I’ve been acting like I don’t care about you, and I do. I care about you more than I’ve let on.”

You take a slow breath, looking up at him. “I’ve been stringing you along too, haven’t I?” you say quietly, the guilt surfacing. “I let things go on like this—casual, no strings, knowing full well that I wanted more, but not giving you a chance to show it. I made it so easy for you to stay at arm’s length, but I don’t want that anymore.”

Harry’s face softens, and he steps closer, kneeling in front of you. His hands hover near yours before finally resting gently over them. “I’m glad you said that,” he admits, his voice thick with emotion. “Because the truth is, I’m scared too. Scared of what this means for us, for the band, for everything. But what I’m not scared of is you. I don’t want it to just be a fling anymore. I want this. I want you. For real. Not just when it’s convenient or when we’re sneaking around.”

Your heart flutters as you take his words in, your fingers curling slightly around his. You’ve heard him say things like this before, but now—this feels different. There’s no more running, no more hiding.

“I want that too,” you say softly, your voice steady, though a hint of uncertainty lingers. “But we both know this isn’t easy. I can’t keep doing this with you unless it’s real, Harry. No more games, no more keeping it quiet. If you’re in this, then I’m in it too. But I can’t keep pretending, not anymore. And if you can’t do that, then we’ll have to go our separate ways.”

Harry swallows, his gaze intense as he watches you. He’s not looking at you with the same playful glint as before. This time, it’s sincere, the weight of his words matching the look in his eyes.

“I’m in it,” he says quietly, nodding. “For real. I want you, Y/N. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, to show you it’s real. I’m not backing down this time.”

You take a deep breath, your chest tightening with relief. There’s something so final about his words, something that makes you feel like you’re stepping into a new chapter.

“Okay,” you whisper, your hand reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “No more pretending. We do this, or we don’t. But I’m not looking back.”

He leans into your touch, pressing his lips to your palm gently. “I don’t want to look back either.”

The moment stretches between you, the weight of the words still lingering, but now there’s a sense of peace—a promise that this, whatever this is, will be real.

You lean in, closing the distance, your lips brushing over his in a kiss that’s softer than the ones before, but carries the weight of something much more substantial. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“We’ve got this,” he says quietly, a hint of a smile curving on his lips.

The quiet between you both is comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding. For once, there’s no rush. No expectations. Just the two of you, finally on the same page. Harry stays close, his hands gently brushing against yours as he leans back against the bed, pulling you with him. You settle into his arms, your body fitting perfectly against his.

The only sounds in the room are the soft rustle of the sheets and the gentle rhythm of your breaths. Harry’s fingers trace small circles along your back, as if memorizing the feel of you in his arms, and you do the same, your hand resting over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“You okay?” he whispers, his voice low, a little hoarse from the emotion of the conversation, though it still holds that warmth you’ve always loved.

You nod, lifting your head slightly to look at him. “Yeah. I’m good. It feels like… everything makes sense now. Like I’m not pretending anymore. Like this is real.”

His lips curl into a soft smile as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m glad,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I want you to know, Y/N, that this is real for me. All of it.”

The words linger between you both, but this time, they don’t feel heavy. They feel freeing. The quietness of the room feels like a safe cocoon, a place where nothing needs to be rushed, where there are no games, no pressure. Just the quiet rhythm of the two of you, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

You press your lips to his, gently, a soft kiss that’s slow and unhurried. It’s not about passion in this moment. It’s about connection. About feeling the weight of what’s changed between you both. The kiss deepens, but it doesn’t push for more—it’s tender, the kind of kiss that’s meant for taking your time, for savoring what’s just beginning to unfold.

Pulling back, you rest your head on his chest again, your eyes fluttering closed. His arm wraps around you, holding you close, and you feel the warmth of his body seep into yours, grounding you in this moment.

“Goodnight, love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight,” you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

His fingers continue their gentle movements against your skin, and the steady beat of his heart becomes the rhythm that lulls you into sleep. The world outside the room feels miles away, and all that matters is the feeling of his arms around you, the peace of knowing that this—what you two have—is real.

You drift off to sleep, wrapped in the comfort of him, the quiet promises of the night hanging in the air. It’s the first time in a long time that you feel truly at peace, knowing that you’ve found something that isn’t fleeting, that isn’t just a momentary thrill. This is real. This is yours.

And as you fall asleep, the last thought in your mind is that you’re not just a fleeting part of Harry’s life anymore—you're something more. And for the first time, you believe it.

...

The next morning, the air feels lighter between you and Harry, a sense of calm settling over you both. The conversation from the night before has laid the foundation for something real, and while there’s still a part of you that’s nervous about what comes next, there’s no more uncertainty between you two. You know where you stand, and you know that this time, it’s different.

You’re sitting with Harry in the common area, trying to act like everything’s normal. You’re not hiding anymore, but the rest of the bands are still operating under the assumption that something’s been happening between you two for a while now. Their teasing comments have become more frequent, but there’s an undertone of curiosity that lingers.

Harry catches your eye across the room, his expression soft. He stands up, extending his hand toward you, and you know what’s coming. You take a breath, pushing aside any remaining nerves as you reach for his hand.

“Oi!” Louis calls out, noticing the two of you getting up. “Where are you two off to?”

Harry doesn’t hesitate. He pulls you closer, his arm resting around your shoulders as he walks you toward the others. The whole room falls silent as you approach, the energy shifting instantly.

Ashton’s eyes narrow on you both, but there’s a look of relief in them now, even if he’s still on edge. Niall raises an eyebrow, still unsure of what’s going on. Luke and Michael are watching carefully, their expressions unreadable but attentive. Calum glances between you and Harry, a quiet smirk tugging at his lips as he folds his arms. You glance at the floor, feeling the weight of their eyes on you as Harry gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ve got something to say,” Harry begins, his voice steady but there’s a slight tension in his jaw, as if he’s bracing for their reactions.

You take a deep breath, your nerves a little more palpable now that you’re in front of everyone. This feels like a big moment—like things are finally being put out in the open. You’ve kept this secret for too long, and now, there’s no turning back.

“We’re together,” you say softly, your voice clear but quiet. “For real this time. Not just... whatever it was before.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then the reactions come fast.

“Oh, thank god,” Niall says, a grin spreading across his face. “You two have been dancing around this for ages. About time you made it official.”

“I knew it,” Louis adds with a smirk. “You two were always making eyes at each other. It was only a matter of time.”

Harry laughs, his hand tightening around yours. “Yeah, well... we had to figure things out first. But now we’re here.”

Ashton crosses his arms, his expression a little more guarded. He’s trying not to smile, but you can tell there’s still a hint of protectiveness in his eyes. He looks at Harry, then at you. “I just want you to know, Harry,” he says, his voice low, “if you hurt her again, I won’t hesitate. You’ve got one chance to make it right.”

Harry nods immediately, without hesitation. “I know, man. I won’t hurt her. I care about her too much for that.”

The tension eases a bit, but Zayn and Liam exchange looks, their expressions still weighing the situation. Zayn’s lips curl into a small smile, but he remains quiet. Liam gives you a warm look, the faintest glimmer of approval in his eyes. It’s clear he’s not against this—it’s just new territory for everyone, and a lot has changed in the time since the last time they saw you and Harry together.

“So, we’re all good then?” Niall asks, a grin still on his face.

You nod, squeezing Harry’s hand tighter, your voice steady now. “Yeah. We’re good. We’re not hiding anymore.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted from your chest, like everything is finally falling into place. It’s not perfect—it’s never going to be—but it’s real. And for the first time in a long time, you’re not running from it.

Ashton looks at Harry one last time, then nods, a little less tense than before. “Alright. I trust you.”

Harry’s face softens, a grateful look crossing his features. “Thanks, Ash.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, and suddenly, it feels like things are less complicated. Everyone’s starting to come to terms with it, the unspoken questions beginning to fade away. For the first time, there’s no judgment, no tension. It’s just you and Harry, and the rest of the band, finally adjusting to the new normal.

Luke looks at the two of you, a knowing smirk on his face. “Alright, alright. So when’s the wedding?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Not that fast, mate.”

Michael laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, but at least it’s not a secret anymore.”

Calum chuckles, nudging Luke. “Maybe they’ll invite us to the wedding. They’ve been keeping us on the edge of our seats for far too long.”

The banter continues, but there’s a sense of ease in the air now. No more secrets, no more uncertainty. And as Harry pulls you close again, his hand resting on your shoulder, you feel like this is just the beginning. This time, it’s real. And you’re ready for whatever comes next.

[lucidl0ser]

Merry Christmas!! (a bit late 💔) I hope you're spending a wonderful holiday! I wanted to ask for winter activities with Mikey, Rindou, Ran, Sanzu, and Kokonoi? Little headcanons to vibe with<3

Btwww, I've been the one requesting you all along, so I will identify as the 🍓anon, I always request for tokyo revengers lmao I hope u don't mind 🤧 I love how you write!! Keep it up🩷🩷

Christmas Headcanons for Mikey, The Haitanis, Sanzu, and Kokonoi!

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Omg, thank you so much, I literally love you!!! Thank you so much for your support, I'm so happy you enjoy it! Requests as much as you like and merry late Christmas!

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Mikey

○ Mikey's the type to sneak the holiday cookies Emma bakes. Every time Emma catches him, she chases out of the kitchen with a spoon!

○ Like it's stated, Mikey goes on rides every night on Christmas Eve til midnight with his gang and Shinichiro. One time, all the captains and vice captains went on the ride with him, and he had the time of his life!

○ Even in the Bonten time line, he still goes on his ride, and Sanzu joins him

Rindou

○ I feel like Rindou is the type to act like he doesn't like Christmas, but he secretly makes holiday mixes all throughout December

○ He spends DAYS trying to find the perfect gift for Ran. Usually it ends up being some new sheets or a soft blanket ♡

○ I think he'd binge watch Christmas movies with Ran and get very invested, just for Ran to fall asleep the first half of the first movie

Ran

*********************

○ Ran definitely hates the cold the holidays bring on. He has to bring out all his blankets just to make sure he gets a good night sleep without the cold

○ Every year, he buys Rindou some expensive gift like cologne, a watch, but one time he bought him a new keyboard and Rindou got so excited. Ever since then, he would buy Rindou a bunch of music stuff, that he later regrets from Rindou's late night practice

○ He's definitely amazing at ice skating tho! He'd be so graceful, and he'd laugh every single time Rindou falls down

Sanzu

○ Sanzu, despite hating his brother, always comes home for the holidays for Senju. He'd buy her tons of gifts to make up for not being there much

○ He also has spent a lot if holidays with the Sano's as well. Growing up with them means his family at this point. Which means he's included in the ugly sweater family photos every year Shinichiro insists on

○ I feel like in the bonten time line, he's started tons of snowball fights with the rest of the group just for the hell of it!

Kokonoi

○ You already know he buys the best gifts. From an expensive necklace for Akane, some beautiful stilettos for Inupi, and so much more

○ He would get cold so easily, dressing all handsome in a design coat just to head straight back inside and put on three more to keep warm

○ I think he would organize a secret Santa for the gang, just for it to go terribly wrong and chaotic♡

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I hope you enjoyed it!! Thank you again for your continuous support ♡

[sketchehm]

Augh wait, completely non Canon but I just had an idea for like, if the cats were actually kids

_-_-_-_-_-_

'I have an important message for you'

The message is followed by a three minute audio.

Finally, after hours of scrubbing through months and months of massages between Sapnap and his old family, they finally found something about his mission to infiltrate Team Mafia.

(Shadoune swears Sapnap wasn't on his phone this much. How did he find the time to text these two so much? How many times do you need to text someone a reminder to eat in one day??)

The phone is already connected to a speaker so they can all hear everything without having to circle around it, so there's only hesitante stopping them from pressing play.

This is what Sapnap was sent here to do. This spells out exactly the ways he was ordered to betray them.

Shadoune presses play.

"Hi Dad! Hiiiiiiiii" Two children voices come from the speaker, "We miss you lotssss!! I got the tiara you sent me! Me and Patches are matching now, we look like sisters!"

"Of course we do, we are sisters stupid."

Another child's voice sounds out, a little father away and a little deeper

One of the first two kids giggles, and there's a shuffle before the other's voice sounds again

"When are you coming back home? Pops and Papa say we should take down the Christmas decorations, but I like them!! Milo don't steal the phone! I'm asking Dad when he's coming home! Oh yeah... Dad we miss you a lot, will you be done with work soon?"

"You two..."

There's two tiny sad sighs

"We know... Be careful Dad, we love you lots! You need to tell us all the cool work stories when you get home! Yeah, we need like, 5 whole bed time stories when you come back! Love you bye! Byeeeeeeeee-"

The audio ends. There's pure silence in the room, a variation of shell-shocked faces all around. Serpias looks a little teary, and no one is quick enough to grab him before he rushes off, thankfully up to his room instead of to the basement.

"Creo..." Rich starts awkwardly, "Creo que eso es suficiente por hoy."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Honestly Serpias would probably run straight to Sapnap, but if anyone ever brought up his kids while he was in the basement he would murder them with his bare hands and I didnt know how to write that right now so... Serpias! To your room!

Serpias beloved 🥺

He just wants the best for Sapnap always and forever....

Serpias after going through every crisis and still not thinking straight, he makes a quick pitstop, shoving something in his pocket before going down to the basement in the dead of night.

Sapnap is actually awake with Dream this time. And when they see Serpias enter... Eyes bloodshot, sniffling, overall looking terrible.....well. Sapnap is beyond worried. He grabs Dream's arms tightly. He doesn't know what Serpias is gonna say.

"Lo siento."

It's quiet. Could barely hear it over his sniffling.

Sapnap thinks they're going to die.

Dream asks what's wrong. Tone dangerously grave.

"You....have children..."

Dream will tense. But Sapnap will be on his feet. Hands already gripping Serpias' shirt collar and slamming him against the door

"What happened with them?"

Serpias has never heard Sapnap so serious, so frightening. It's actually the first time he's heard Sapnap speak on his own without Dream.

Sapnap will scream in Serpias' face asking what happened. Threatening to make his death and everyone else's in this house slow and painful if they laid a finger on them. His eyes are wild. The kind of insane he's only witnessed watching Sapnap in the ring and taking down an opponent.

This is life or death to Sapnap he realizes.

George is waking up from the noise as Sapnap continues to yell and slam his head against the door. What happened. WHAT HAPPENED!

"NADA! SAPNAP HICIMOS NADA!"

Serpias can barely get it out. He feels dizzy. He might be bleeding.

"Then why are you sorry." Sapnap's cold tone hurts Serpias' more than scares him. Never wanting Sapnap to hate him ever. But he knew this would happen. Expected to be more than half dead by this point.

"For taking you away from them....They are alone..."

It's quiet again.

"Why are you saying this?" It's Dream. His tone is cold and calculating, something Serpias is familiar to. Welcomes it even. Something to focus on that isn't Sapnap's hatred.

"Para escaparé." He produces the keys in his pocket. They're for a car.

And Sapnap let's him go. Serpias feels really dizzy without the support now. The headache so overwhelming, he can't help close his eyes. He's out cold before he falls over.

When he wakes up he's in the infirmary with Farfa at the side of his bed. He can feel the headache of a concussion, the back of his head pounding. He notices the bandages wrapped around his head.

"Se fueron."

Serpias jumps at Farfa's voice. But once the words register, despite the incredible pain, he can't help but be relieved.

[zen-shenanigans]

“I’m sorry, are those…”

[vulpinesaint]

listen i am geralt of rivia hater number one but one thing i actually CANNOT stand is when the fandom mischaracterizes him. took one look at this man who speaks very straight-forwardly and matter-of-fact and is a little recalcitrant with his words sometimes and went "haha he communicates in grunts! man who only says 'hm'!" and then won't even write him to speak in full fucking sentences. hello???? hello???????? yes the netflix show was a bad influence on everybody because they were trying too hard to depict geralt as a stoic manly badass but we CANNOT let that distract us from the REAL thing to make fun of geralt for. which are his Constant Unprovoked Monologues

[inamindfarfaraway]

How Hermes talks about Luke to others: (the most adoring, protective, forgiving father you've ever met, full of praise and admiration, refuses to give up on him no matter what crimes he commits, defends him to the heroes and begs them to show him mercy, utterly crushed by regret for his own failures)

How Hermes talks to Luke:

[theredcuyo]

Small recap from what happened in the stream :D!

Bad talked for a while with Tubbo about the systems and the backpacks

Bad gave Bagi a tour around, and they played in the lucky ducks and visited the museum, both museums actually, he gave Bagi a Pig named "emergency bacon" that they got in lucky ducks

Bad was clearly sad when visiting the museums, and went silent every time an egg appeared in the pictures

Bad took Bagi to his tank, and there was Dapper's dinner goat, Bagi said that next time she sees him being hostile to animals shes going to kill him, Bad didn't take it very seriously

Bad went to a certain room around there where there was a book, looked around there and said "Not yet"

Then went back to the farm, sat down over there, said he misses Dapper, and then the screen went black, after a few minutes, we heard something like screaming of monsters (for some reason, remained me of the whiter, but the sound is not that one) then he ended the stream

Bad is up to who knows what in short

[lilacerull0]

will inevitably lose lila and enzo, but even that doesn't diminish the extremely selfish hope i managed to gain out of their fictional relationship

[bunnigumi]

─ A LITTLE BIT HARDER NOW!

WHEN HE PULLS BACK theres drool collecting at the corner of your mouth. You're red in the face, eyes averting in shame 'cause you really do like it when he presses on your tummy like that.

cw. megumi x reader , stomach bulge , tummy pressing , size kink

Right now, Megumi has his grab on your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh, thumbs circling pink bites on the inner sides. It's a routine that's starting to become familiar. Your hips are slightly lifted up from the bed, and he really cant explain why, but when he can see the outline of his dick through your stomach, he absolutely loses it.

You were horrified at the sight when you first saw it, but Megumi on the other hand? He was turned on the most he's been in his entire life.

He just loves pressing on the bulge in your little tummy. Its addicting—watching you squirm and whine and protest with little results. Seeing the way you cant decide if you want to stray from his touch or arch further into it. Loving how big his dick is compared to you.

"Fuck baby," he breathes out in awe. "See that? Feel it? Can you feel my cock deep inside you?" He groans as he pulls out all the way just to slam back into you, starting a fast, rough pace that doesn't seem to let up and makes the sound of sticky arousal totally embarrassing.

A hand retreats from where it's holding up your thigh to grab one of your own hands, wrestling the grip you have on crumpled sheets and guiding it down to your stomach.

"Wha- nghh, M'gumi, don't—!" A long, drawn out moan escapes your lips before the rest of your complaint can. Your hand is trembling, and too weak to escape his grab.

"C'mon sweet girl, don't you like how full I can make you feel?" He coos.

Your head falls to the side, attempting to push your face into the soft pillows, "N-noo... feels so weird..." The drawn out nature of your words make you sound unsure. Megumi doesn't believe that you don't like it, because oh, he knows you do.

"Awwh... you sure you don't like it, baby?" He says, faux innocence laced in his sweet tone. You pout. You know what he's doing to you, and hes so wrong for it. He leans in closer, tilting his head, teasing you so you get all embarrased—hot and flustered. "I should just pull out then if it's too much."

You shake your head so fast you almost get dizzy, unable to form any coherent words. Only small uh-uh's make it past your moans.

It's too hot. Megumi is so, very close to you right now. You're able to feel the radiating warmth of his body, his breath against your ear. With the added weight of his teasing, it becomes far too invading. You bury your face deeper into the pillows.

When you get like that, the heat always pressures you into spilling whatever you don't want to say—always. You make for a terrible, terrible liar.

"What about when I do it like this?" You face him again with curiosity. Your brows are furrowed, sweat beads down your hairline. Glossy eyes search his face in confusion in the cutest way ever before dilating in panic.

He adds more pressure and forces your hand harder onto your stomach, closing the little distance seperating the two of you to kiss you sloppily. You make a noise of shock, whining as he continues to knead your hand onto it.

Your cries melt back into the sound of pleasure, moaning into the kiss, your whining dying down.

When he pulls back theres drool collecting at the corner of your mouth. You're red in the face, eyes averting in shame 'cause you really do like it when he presses on your tummy like that. "Tell me how much you love it," he taunts.

When you're like this, you're able to feel all of him. Able feel every single thrust just grazing your cervix, senses going into overdrive as you subconsiously stop trying to fight his hold on your hand with the little to no strength you were using to begin with.

"I, hahh, love it! Love your cock s-so much! Feel so full... hah- aah—!" With one last thrust, your back arches, core unraveling around his length. Walls tightening, spasming in a way that makes Megumi spill all his praises. As your chest heaves heavily, your abdomen flexes and tightens, revealing the silhouette of your boyfriend's cock stuffed inside of you even clearer now.

The corner of his mouth quirks up in pride, "I bet you do, baby. I fuckin' bet."

He really should start doing this more often.

[pearlymel]

"Do i look like i can work right now?"

Summery : he's needy for you and he's not afraid to show it <3

wc : 2k

Warnings : NSFW, fem!reader, ōral (f! recieving), bit of dry humping, making out, protected sex. Petnames used (honey, love, sweetheart.) No plot.

He was so done for.

Zayne exhaled shakily against your neck, his hands squeezing firmly at the dip of your waist for stability. He sounded needy, he looked needy, it's taking everything in him to not rip your nightgown off.

"You should be resting, but you occupy my every thought." He uttered in a hushed tone, but made no real effort to take you off his lap, instead pulling you even closer using his knee and burying his face on your chest.

"You're practically latched on me, Zayne." The words just rolled off your tongue it was almost infuriating.

Zayne wrapped one arm around your hips, keeping you firmly on his lap as the chair kept rocking back and forth with your combined weight. His other hand traveled up your back, up to your shoulder and neck, pulling you further down so he could nip at your collarbone with a sharp canine.

"You're one to talk, sweetheart. You're not being very cooperative with being treated properly, always gambling your life away—" he sounded frustrated, the last few words coming out in a low grumble.

You ignore his words, instead bringing your hand to playfully pinch at his earlobe before whispering, "is this how you usually treat your patients, doctor?"

"This is..." Unprofessional, he almost said, he knew well there wasn't anything professional about how he was acting with you at the moment. "...An exception."

He then continued to litter your skin with open-mouthed kisses, his hand trailing up to find your nape, tangling his fingers into your hair, playing with the textured strands.

"Is it because I'm that special someone?"

You really have no idea what kind of effect you had on him. Zayne's teeth grazed against your pulse point lightly, his tongue darting out for a brief taste of your skin. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't very affected by you.

"My special someone," he murmured, and can't help the low gasp that escapes his throat when you start rolling your hips against his, feeling himself going dizzy.

"M-my love," he protested weakly, a visible growing tent forming in his bathrobe, making it harder for him to stop himself from pulling you harder against his lap.

He grabbed you by the thighs and leaned back into the backrest, giving you less space to move but a better angle to straddle him instead. "Don't stop," you whisper next to his ear while you try to continue pushing yourself further into him that he had to suppress a moan.

Zayne was sensitive man, being pent up most of the time, so touch straved. "You're a terrible patient, you know that? Insatiable." He managed to get out.

"I'm a different kind of patient," you hum, trailing your fingertips along his visible bare skin of his chest.

He was going to combust if you didn't stop touching him like that.

"You're dangerous." he almost whimpered, his hands moving back to grip your hips, as if to steady them on his lap, but it took every ounce of his willpower not to grind them against his crotch.

God was he done, Zayne finally wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you back down for a crushing kiss. It was less of a kiss and more of a possessive mark, hungry and rough.

He wanted you, needed you, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue delved into your mouth with a greedy swipe, tasting you, as if he was drowning in you and the only thing keeping him alive was your kiss alone.

His breathing grew erratic as his hands slid down from your hips, grabbing the backs of your thighs and squeezing at the flesh, pressing you more firmly against his lap so his obvious hardened cock was rubbing between your legs.

Your sounds were unforgettable, Zayne could never forget them, the gasps and small whimpers of pleasure. He was already gone.

"Goddamn it..." he cursed hoarsely against your mouth, his hands clenching tighter under your thighs, guiding your motions on his lap before bucking up roughly, letting out a quiet groan of his own in the process.

"such a foul mouth, doctor,"

"Don't push it," he grumbled, lifting you up to his waist, "Push it?" You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck as he walked you to his room, and upon the realization, tap on his shoulder, "wasn't i supposed to rest—"

"That doesn't mean you can't rest after, does it?" he responded, moving over to the edge of the bed before slowly lowering you down onto the sheets, his body caging you in between his arms and legs, his form hovering over you.

He wasted no time sliding his hand underneath your silky nightgown to feel your skin, pulling the fabric above your head, guiding your arms up.

Zayne was a weak, weak man. Weak for seeing you like this, glossy eyes, lips slightly swollen from his kiss and the way your chest rose and fell heavily with every breath. Just being able to see you like this alone was a privilege.

He let his hands roam over the curve of your stomach, "so pretty," he muttered, his eyes raking over your form.

He leaned down to graze your neck with a trail of open-mouthed kisses, his lips lingering and nipping the skin, he then slowly traveled down your collarbone and to the valley of your chest, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra the entire time.

"Lift your hips." he commanded quietly, sending a shiver down your spine and heat pooling down as you obliged to his words.

The last thing on you, and Zayne was pulling the fabric out from underneath you, throwing the bra somewhere on the floor, his eyes dark as he raked his gaze over your soft mounds, "I'm never getting tired of this view." he whispered breathlessly, Upon holding your wrists down and claiming your lips again, it was impossible to not be sent into the next cardiac arrest.

Well good think your doctor is always here to tend to you.

"I've.. missed you,"

How was he supposed to hold back when you sounded like that? Your voice coming out in a low, needy whisper that drove him over the edge.

"You need me." he groaned, releasing your wrists so both his hands could run down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties before giving the fabric a tug. He reached over, grabbing one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee, He continued to make a trail kisses up your thigh until he reached right infront of your wet folds.

Zayne looked up when your hand came in contact with his hair while letting out a shuddering breath and a whisper of his name, your gazes heated as he moved his head further down to your core, using one hand to keep your thigh pinned over his shoulder before his eyes fixated on your clit, leaning down to kiss it.

You gasp. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, before he began to suck on your clit, his fingers trailing up to play with your hardened nipples, rolling and pinching them gently with his thumb and forefinger. He hummed when you start squirming, his tongue skillfully flicking and rolling around the bundle of nerves, Zayne didn't stop at just your clit, though.

He trailed his tongue lower, teasing your entrance, and you couldn't help but tug at his hair, hips coming to slowly grind against his face. "Stay still, you're doing well," he praised, his voice low and soft, you best know he's trying so hard not to rut against the mattress from how achy he felt. His tongue sliding in and out, coating it with your arousal. You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building up inside you.

And you think you might pass out when he starts sucking down. It was hard to stay still when you're so close to orgasm, that it was making your head blank, eyes half-lidded and heavy breaths coming out of your lips as you arch your back when you taste the sweet pleasure of your release.

Zayne lifted his head from between your legs, licking his lips appreciatively and giving your stomach a few fluttering kisses. "You okay there, honey?" He asked in a low, hoarse voice as he watched how your eyes were still half lidded, and how your draped your arm over your face.

You only nod in return, letting out a low "Mhm,"

He couldn't wait until he was on his knees positioned between your legs, throwing his bathrobe off from his body before reaching down to his painfully hard cock, stroking once, twice, and he had to stop himself because he could most definitely jerk off just by looking at your face, especially when you're naked like this.

Zayne swallowed thickly, shaking his head to himself from any other thoughts before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a condom, tearing it between his teeth then rolling it on himself, making sure it was on securely before moving between your legs.

He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, staring into your eyes, waiting for you to give him the go-ahead. You nodded, your eyes still heavy with need, and he slowly pushed into you, his cock filling you up inch by inch.

Your jaw hanged, your body adjusting to him, your walls gripping his shaft. He continued to thrust in slowly, "you're the only thing..." He panted breathlessly into your neck, "the only thing i need in my life—" and he continued to rock against you with his thrusts slow and deep.

Zayne was taking his time now, slowly and with intent, he wanted to show you how much this moment means to him, how much you mean to him, how everytime you both have sex, it would feel like the first time every single time.

He lifted his head so that he could look at your face more clearly, his hands running over your sides, tracing the curves and the softness of your body, his fingers touching your skin as if to burn the feel of you into his memory.

His hand then trailed to your left wrist, taking your hand into his to interlace your fingers together, while his thumb brushed over the empty spot on your ring finger.

He internally cursed at himself for not getting you that ring he saw when he was on the way to the hospital. The beautiful gem resting on the window display, calling for him even.

Why didn't he just get it so he could make sure no one would ever look your way when they get the hint of the shiny ring sitting at your left ring finger?

Zayne then picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, your voice growing louder, accompanied by his frustrated grunts.

He could feel himself getting close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, "Come on, my love," he urged you desperately, "a-ah, Zayne—!" With a loud moan, you came, your body shaking and your legs convulsing around his waist.

He followed right after, slamming deep into you, his cock pulsing as he came, filling the condom with his hot seed. He held you close, both of your breathings heavy, taking a moment to hold you both close before slowly pulling out to dispose of the condom.

"Still have enough energy for cuddles?"

"Mm, I'd want nothing more than cuddles right now."

A smile formed on his face at your words, gently shifting himself back on the bed so that he was beside you, pulling you into his arms.

He wrapped his arms around you, and he let out a content sigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, his head in the crook of your neck again, inhaling the scent of you, and he realized that he could stay like this forever. "Just a bit more before i clean both of us up.."

[versupital]

your panties scare me, can i take them off?

pov. you got new halloween panties/pajamas and he’s about to lose his mind.

content: implied smut, breath play (toji), virgin!choso, sexual content (MDI), husband!nanami, breeding kink (nanami), roommate!gojo, afab!reader

incl pairings: choso, nanami, gojo, toji

word count. 2.1k

soundtrack 💿🌧️: sex on sight ft. usher

Choso.

"Mmh..."

You lay on the bed, entangled in burly arms and the scent of aftershave. Your boyfriend is attacking you in sloppy kisses, all down your neck and jaw, as screams beam out of the TV from the horror movie you'd stopped watching about ten minutes ago.

His hand roams dangerously over your side while your nails dig into his back for stability. The two of you have yet to take things as far as penetration, so it’s all you can do to fight back the urge to whip his cock out and plop down on it.

You wonder if tonight things are going to finally change, as you feel your panties grow damper, and Choso's cock digging into your stomach through his sweats.

"Why do we always do this?" Choso breathes. “We start a movie we can't even finish."

You laugh against him before it melts into a moan at the reminder of his wet lips. "Because I don’t like scary movies, Cho. ‘M so afraid.”

Choso grunts against your skin, "Really? How can i make you feel better?”

You huff and roll onto your back. Choso doesn't waste any time climbing over you, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You can start by taking my shorts off,” you instruct, eyes filled with lust as you stare up at your ebony-haired partner.

He pauses his kisses to look down at you in surprise. "Y-You want to...?"

"Yes," you nod, biting your lip. “Don’t y’wanna comfort me from the scary monsters on the TV?”

Choso nods eagerly, and his big hands come up to your waistband to begin pulling down your shorts. As the material slides over your thighs, he pauses and stares with furrowed brows, right at your underwear.

"Um, baby?" he cocks his head to the side. "Who is... V.S.?"

You let out an exasperated breath before smiling. "That stands for Victoria's Secret, Cho. It's a lingerie brand."

His eyes bulge and he looks back up at you, "Lingerie?"

He continues to slide the shorts all the way off, to reveal your blood red thong with a tiny white ghost on the front. You suspect the ghost is supposed to look like a glob of cum, and you imagine Choso’s in its place.

"Oh fuck," he breathes, "you wore these f'me?"

"Who else, Cho?" you run your hands over your stomach seductively, patting the top of the thong. "You like?”

Choso's eyes flash white, and he hooks his fingers over the skinny string that keeps the thong around your waist.

"Shit, I..." he swallows thickly. "Love them. You have more like this?”

You nod confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you see them one at a time.”

You wink and Choso’s nervous hands remain entangled in the strings of your thong. “What if I can’t please you?”

"Not possible," you shake your head, running your hands into his hair, grateful he’d taken it out of its pigtails for his shower. "I nearly cum every time we make out."

His eyes widen. "Oh, so it's not just me," he breathes out in relief.

You giggle and spread your legs a little more, your lips threatening to pop right out of the terribly small pair of panties.

A girl shrieks on the TV and there is the sound of a slashing knife.

You fake a shiver, "Oh, Cho! I'm so afraid. Mmh, hurry and make me feel better.”

Choso smirks and rips down your panties, knowing that the neighbors are going to think someone is really being murdered by the time he’s done with you.

Nanami.

"Excuse me, my love."

You turn in place to see your husband, standing in the doorframe of the bathroom as you brush your teeth.

"Hmph, yes?" you mumble around your toothbrush, your face heating in the same way it always does when you see him, no matter how long you’ve been together.

Nanami stands awkwardly in the doorframe, shifting his weight like a nervous child. He's in his own version of pajamas: a white shirt, plaid pants, and house shoes. His hand raises and he points to your legs.

"When did you acquire those?" he asks delicately, referring to the tiny orange shorts you have on that are patterned in bats.

"The shorts?" you mumble, before removing your toothbrush and spitting out the toothpaste. "Um, I got them yesterday while costume shopping with the kids. Why?"

Nanami laces his fingers together. "I just thought I'd seen all of your clothes, because you always try them on for me. You didn't..." he inhales a ragged breath. "You didn't show me these. Is there a reason?"

You nearly feel your heart shatter through your ribcage. Nanami clearly looks distraught that you failed to give him a fashion show. At the same time, you notice his pajama pants growing a friendly tent in them, and you suspect you know the real reason he is upset.

"I... wanted it to be a surprise, Ken," you say, pat drying your mouth on a washcloth, before walking towards him, all minty and shower fresh.

"A surprise?" Nanami questions, visibly getting tense as you approach.

"Mhmm..." you tiptoe your fingers up his arm and over his shoulder. "You like them?"

"That's a very loaded question," Nanami mutters. "I like anything you wear."

"But these seem to be having a different effect on you, honey," you coo, tilting your head to the side, resting your hand on the back of his neck - his sweet spot.

You watch his Adam's apple bob.

"Yes," he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "They’re really… small. And we, you know, can’t do things as often anymore with the baby… I just miss you.”

You sigh, relaxing under his touch. “Right. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Nanami lets out a feral noise. "No, I’m not. I feel like a horny teenager. Just need you really bad.”

“I haven’t seen you this desperate in a while, honey,” you say, taking a step back, letting your hands fall off of each other. "Go ahead. Take them off.”

Nanami doesn't hesitate. His big hands gently peel down the waistband, and he bites his lip as he examines what’s underneath.

"You're not wearing underwear," he realizes with a breath. “Gonna make me lose myself here, Y/N.”

"Well, I was thinking..." you cock your head to the side. "One more baby wouldn't hurt, would it?"

Nanami's eyes grow a bit larger. “D-don’t say that.”

“Know you’ve been trying so hard not to finish in me,” you coo, “but don’t you miss it?”

“Y/N…” his knuckles go white as he nearly rips the material of your little shorts. “We really shouldn’t.”

"No, but ngh..." you roll your hips under his hands. "Wouldn't it be fun to see how feral we can get?"

"I am already ‘feral’ just looking at these shorts, Y/N." Nanami nearly whines, his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, waiting for you to give him the word.

"Really," you whisper on his neck, planting a kiss there soon after. "That was easier than I thought.”

Nanami sighs against you. "Why are you so good at this, hm, little minx?"

You smile against his skin, "Why are my shorts still on, Kento?"

Nanami growls, all guttural and primal instinct, and your back is crashing against the counter in an instant.

You bite your lip, "Eager?” you question.

"You have no idea." He hums as he slides down the orange garment, staring at them. "Did you buy any more?”

"Maybe," you say quietly, blinking as you try to picture what he's going to do to you next.

"Good," he parts your legs and stands between them before using his thick hands to open your mouth and shove the shorts right inside of it. “We’ll need these so we don’t wake the baby.”

Gojo.

"You wanna be me so fucking bad!"

You spin slowly in place, holding a piece of popcorn only halfway to your mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Your eyes land on your roommate's bottoms, a plush pair of Friday-the-13th pajama pants. They are exactly like the boy shorts you’re wearing, the ones that have ridden up and cover basically nothing.

"If you wanted to match, you could've just said that," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms.

You raise your eyebrow, "I’ve had these for a long time. You're the one who wants to be like me."

Gojo scoffs. "Why haven’t I ever seen them, then?" He shoves his hands in his pockets. “And au contraire, madamoiselle, I want to be in you. Huuuge difference there.”

You cough a bit, choking on nothing, unable to respond.

"Of course, choking on my cock could definitely work too," Gojo mutters, examining his nails. "Maybe teach you a lesson about walking around in just your panties."

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard to deny the fluttery feeling in your stomach just from his words. "Please, like I've never done this before."

"And every time you have, you end up bent over, begging for me to take it easier, don't you?" He cocks his head to the side and lets his eyes slither down your body like a snake of temptation.

You bite your lip. "So it’s my fault that you have no self control?”

Gojo nods his head. "Yes, maybe I just wanted to have a nice, relaxing Halloween game night with you... but now you've got me so worked up."

You tap your chin. "You wanted to spend time with me that doesn't involve sex? Seems a little out of character, don't you think?"

Gojo stalks towards you, long feathery strides until he's towering over your frame, eyes threatening to sear your clothes right off of you.

"Oh, you can't get any denser, can you?" he questions. "This sick little arrangement we have, teasing each other and fucking on every surface in the house isn't what I want." He pauses. "I mean, yes, but it's more than that."

You blink up at him. "What else could you possibly want?"

Gojo sighs, and slowly wraps his arms around you in a cinnamon-scented bear hug. "I want to contact you about your car's extended warranty."

"SATORU!" you screech, hitting him on the chest as he bursts into laughter.

"I'm joking, you know that I can't take shit seriously," he runs his fingers through his hair. “For fuck sake, I want a relationship with you, okay? Do I need to spell it out on the lawn?"

"Yes, actually," you tease, sitting your popcorn bucket down and running your buttery hands over his chest. "You want to be with me?"

"Your pussy's too good to let anyone else have you," he hums, leaning forward and kissing your neck.

"You're so annoying," you grit, but you can't help but melt into his touch and kisses.

He chuckles against you but doesn’t respond.

Gojo pulls his head out of your neck and leans towards you, lips parted in expectancy.

Your eyes flutter closed just as your mouths collide, this kiss feeling different than the hundreds that had come before it. You lean into him and grab the drawstring of his pajamas, while his fingers are also subconsciously twisting into your boy shorts.

"Mmh, can't get enough of you," Gojo mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle. "Good thing I'm yours now. There's plenty of time to reach all of me."

He breaks away from you and stares down in astonishment. "Really?"

You nod, tugging him closer by his pants. "So, about that game night..."

"Eh, it can wait, we have some celebrating to do." He grins, and before you know it you're being lifted swiftly into the air, hauled over his shoulder with your ass next to his face, as he pops a crack on the soft skin there. "And don't you ever wear these without warning me again."

Toji.

“Why are you hovering? I said sit.”

Your boyfriend is obsessed with you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your cunt and juices, this is nothing new. But this time, he wants to try something a bit more deranged.

You’d just been trying to show him your new panties and matching socks, honest. You may have also been wearing one of his shirts, and this was absolutely his weakness, and you absolutely knew that.

“My shirt, baby?” he’d cooed, pulling you into a hug and planting soft kisses on your face. “New panties too? You spoil me.”

It wouldn’t be long before he was lifting you up, effortlessly, carrying you to the bed and laying down on it. Then, before you had the chance to squirm or run, he was gripping your sides and lifting you over his face, where you caught your weight with your knees.

“Toji, they’re still on,” you mumble, his hands gliding up your sides to hike up his shirt. He stares directly between your legs which causes your clit to twitch.

“So?” he questions from below.

Thick hands mash into the crease of your hips, forcing your weight to fall down on his wide nose and full lips.

Your face turns the color of beets, but you ultimately have no time to be embarrassed as Toji locks his arms around your thighs.

His eyes have fluttered closed, and you can feel his shuddering breath through the cloth as he takes in your scent.

Your hands are on the headboard for stability, looking down at him, feeling your panties grow damper as he wiggles his face around, nose brushing your clit.

“Toji approved,” he says suddenly, before you feel his fat, warm tongue slide along the material of the panties, and your body lurches.

“Wh-What…?”

“I can still eat you through your panties,” he huffs, eyes popping open and catching you staring down at him. “This was the plan all along, puss.”

Your thighs shudder on either side of his head. “You’re not serious.”

“As a heart attack, baby,” he mumbles, before flicking his tongue over the cloth again, nose massaging your clit, hands burying deeper into your skin. It’s all so much, you moan and rotate your hips over him.

“Wh-what made you want to try this?” you ask, biting your lip as he tugs on the material with his teeth, taking in another animalistic sniff.

“You looked so proud to show them off,” Toji grunts. “It’s a shame that they were only going to end up on the floor, huh?”

You have to agree. You’d stopped buying lingerie long ago because it would never last more than a few seconds around Toji, but you figured a new pair of panties couldn’t hurt. You just hadn’t expected this reaction out of him.

Besides, you can’t deny how good it feels to dry hump his face, there only being a thin barrier between your folds and his wet tongue, making it all the more a tease.

From then on, it became a regular tradition for Toji to “approve” your new holiday panties - but of course, the halloween ones remained his favorite.

A/N:

im sorry for pumping out these shitty short ones but im just trying to keep yall fed while we wait for the long ones ^.^

~pennjammin

[multific]

Scent

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: You never would have imagined such a ruthless and sadistic man to be so obsessed with scent.

How did you always manage to smell so good? 

Every person he met smelled terrible. 

He had many men thrown out of the room because of their foul smell. 

But you always smelled divine. And different each time. 

Sometimes you smelled of roses.

Sometimes you smelled of lavender.

Sometimes you smelled of milk. 

It was always perfect. It made Geta always bury his nose into your skin.

Strangely, your hair never smelled like your body. 

Your hair always smelled of fresh flowers or apples.

He loved it.

He loved you.

Every moment he got, he smelled you. Burying his face into your neck, or during private moments, he buried himself into your breasts or stomach.

It wasn't just your dresses that smelled good. 

Your dresses were different. 

While they smelled like you, they also smelled so fresh. 

"An Empress should smell nice." is what you said to him when he asked you about the smell.

He knew how you liked to bathe. 

How you enjoyed being washed and worshipped.

In reality, you preferred to smell great for your husband. Since the first time he noticed your smell of roses, and told you how much he enjoyed it.

Ever since then, you have been finding new ways to smell divine.

And now, you had one more trick up your sleeve.

You were brushing your hair in front of your mirror. You preferred to do it yourself since the servants were always so rough.

Geta closed the door behind himself and let out a long sigh.

"Do you know just how difficult it is to talk to a man who smells like shit? Literal shit! I couldn't even focus." 

"Maybe you should take a bath." you suggested as you looked at him. You smiled when his eyes met yours.

You heard him smelling the air.

"This is new." he said as he walked over to you his nose up in the air, taking big whiffs. "Honey?"

"Yes Dear?" you smirked at him as he smiled. A genuine happy smile might be rare for others, but not for you.

He knelt down in front of you. He grabbed your hand and began to smell up from your wrist to your elbow, from your elbow to your shoulder. 

His breath tickled your skin, making you giggle.

Soon, his nose found it's rightful place in the curve of your neck.

"You smell so sweet." he whispered as he took deep breaths. 

"I'm happy you like it."

"How do you do it? How do you know what I need? I wanted honey today, craved for it and here you are! Smelling like the sweetest honey treat."

"I'm your wife. Who else would know what you need if not me?"

"Oh, how I love you, My Sweet Wife." 

"I love you too."

You both soon headed to bed where he continued to smell your skin and hair, not letting go for one second.

And this is how you slept every night, with Geta hugging your back to his front, his nose in your neck. 

You slept happy, knowing your husband loved you the same you loved him.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[hellacioushag]

that weird in-between of stanning a character, but wanting only bad things to happen to them