#because all the best bits are like. the way her voice sounds in One Line and also there is a beeping noise

[brie-is-cheesy]

I love you... Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.

Pairing: Sylus × Reader

Word count: 1679 or 1.6k words

Warnings: slight angst to smut and a little fluff, fingering, oral sex(fem receiving), dry humping(sort of), Sylus is shot, reader is not mc

Your head snapped to your phone as it started vibrating violently.

“Hello?” Pressing ‘accept,’ you brought the device to your ear.

“Y/N…” A familiar drawl on the other side caused you to sigh.

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“C’mon, N/n. I promise this is the last time,” he said, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“That’s what you said the last three times. And I’m busy,” you stated but grabbed your keys anyway.

“I need you.” His breath was ragged, and you clenched your fists—and hung up.

Before you knew it, you were locking your door and making your way to the basement of your apartment building. Climbing atop your green-accented motorcycle, you twisted the key, put on your helmet, and were on your way.

You kicked down the door to the warehouse, eyes searching as you stormed through. The location tracker showed you were only a few meters from the target.

His white hair came into view, and you released a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Kneeling down at his side, you started patting different parts of his body.

“Ah,” he winced lightly as your hand brushed against his abdomen.

You pressed your left palm flat against the bullet wound as your other hand dug around in your purse, desperately searching for the first-aid kit you carried with you.

This was a common occurrence between the two of you—something that was pretty much a given for the best friend and confidant of the leader of Onychinus. It had grown exponentially recently. Ever since he met her.

Cute, kind, and brave. The holy trinity. MC. But you could only describe her as a naïve, immature fool who had only ever caused you more trouble since entering your best friend’s life—and, by extension, yours.

MC was the last person you would think to be involved with the most dangerous gang in the N109 area. The two of you were vastly different. Seriously, it was uncanny. You, with your bare, bloody knuckles, short temper, and even shorter dresses. And her, with her hunter academy training, top-of-the-line education, and proper uniform.

Whatever the case, you’d end up fixing her up as always. Because that was what you did, wasn’t it? You were strong, capable, and reliable. These were the reasons Sylus held you in such high regard.

You and MC were undoubtedly complete and total opposites. The only thing you had in common was, well, Sylus. As you bandaged him up, you started looking around for her, expecting to find her sprawled out on the floor clinging to her weapon dearly—or already passed out.

Unlike her, you didn’t effortlessly win hearts simply by existing. Your beauty was a weapon in itself—sharp features and blood-red lips to go with his leather jackets and most likely bruised self.

“Hello? You there? Y/N. Ow.” His sudden hiss of pain brought you back to reality.

“Hurry up and move.” You stood up, extending a hand and pulling him up with little to no effort. You started walking in the other direction. Sylus’ warm hand enveloped your wrist, and you turned around—only to come face to face with him, noses mere inches apart.

“At least look at me.” His tone was cool, but his pleading eyes betrayed his true feelings.

“Where is she?” you said, your lips pursed as they often were in matters regarding the hunter.

“Where’s who?” he asked, his hand sliding down just a bit to hold your equally calloused one.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“…She had to go back home,” he said, sounding defeated.

“In the middle of a fight?” You scoffed.

“Yeah.” He gritted his teeth.

“So let me get this straight. You ignored all my warnings and proceeded to go after someone who then left you alone to fight at the very least three S-rank wanderers all on your own.” You raised your eyebrows, traces of wrath bubbling beneath your calm demeanor.

“Y/N, I know I fucked up. I should have listened to you. Can you skip the lecture, just this once?” he implored.

“Fine,” you relented.

You searched his face for any signs of distress, and upon finding no significant amount of it, decided he must’ve been feeling better. You brought a hand up to trace the outline of the freshly acquired wound on his cheekbone.

“I’m okay,” he assured you.

“I know.” You brought your hand back to rest at your side once more.

“You aren’t mad?” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

You shook your head, the sound of something rustling nearby enough for the two of you to rush out of the warehouse. Once you made it back to his house, you made your way to the bedroom.

He took a shower, and you resorted to finding the clothes you’d left behind the last time you were here, which was just last week. Right before Miss Hunter had barreled her way into your lives once more, leaving destruction in her wake—which you would end up having to fix.

You lay on the bed with your eyes closed, trying to fall asleep, and felt something warm slip in behind you. His arms snaked around your waist, and he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“Go away,” you grumbled.

“Can’t do that, darling.” He nuzzled into your bare shoulder.

“Really? Because, if I recall correctly, you had no qualms doing exactly that when she was the one asking.” You shifted and turned around to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time.” You bit the inside of your cheek, resolve slowly cracking as his hands traveled to your breasts, kneading them just how he knew you liked it.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he said, lingering water droplets falling from the ends of his hair onto the dark sheets.

“You won’t talk to her,” you stated.

“I won’t,” he mumbled against your skin. “I love you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I love you, Y/N. More than anything.” His eyes bore into your soul as if seeing right through you. You gulped.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

That was all the confirmation he needed to smash his lips into yours, as he’d done several times before. But for some reason, this time felt different. And so you kissed him back—just as passionately.

His hands made their way to your hips, one slipping beneath the waistband of your pajamas. You called out his name lightly as the pads of his fingers made contact with your sensitive clit. You hummed.

He slid your bottoms off, repositioning himself at the base of the bed and pulling your closer by your thighs. You moaned as he licked a stripe up your cunt. 

He had always made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered to him. Perhaps that was why even as he slipped two fingers in without so much as a warning, your couldn’t find it in yourself to berate him any further. 

He sucked on your clit in a way that—paired with the pace he had set with his fingers—had you seeing stars. You were getting impossibly close, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach. 

You came with a cry of his name—letting out a small moan at the sight of him licking his fingers clean. He came up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. God, the things he did to you.

While making out once again, you felt something hard poking you, which prompted you to roll your hips against his. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he groaned.

“Pretty sure I do the exact opposite of that most days. Need I remind you there is still a gaping hole in you?” you chided.

“I have to apologise somehow.” he said, as if he had no choice.

If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would’ve have been convinced his hands were tied. The only one who could free him of the burden that was your eternal debt being you yourself. 

You flipped the two of you—now being on top of him—and gyrated your hips with an ample amount of pressure. You were careful so as not to hurt him, or risk the bandages getting loose. 

“Come on, you can do better than that.” he grinned, though a particularly hard thrust from you shut him up effectively. 

You increased the pace, his clothed dick rubbed deliciously against your puffy clit. You moaned as he grabbed your hips and further ground your hips into his.

“Sylus!” your head fell on his shoulder, breath coming out in ragged puffs.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” he bucked his hips up, successfully leading you and himself to orgasm. 

Your soaked pussy clenched around nothing and you gushed all over his branded sweatpants. He followed a second later—painting the insides of his pants white.

You both panted but stayed like that for a while—your head in the crook of his neck, and his right hand tangled in your hair. Eventually, you went to get a wet washcloth, helping him clean up.

You laid back down as he put on a fresh pair of pants and tossed his stained ones in the hamper. He followed after you, pulling you into a hug.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Mhm.” You flicked his nose.

“Say it back!” He gasped dramatically.

“Fine, you big baby.” You cracked a smile. “I love you.”

The blanket draped over you both offered much-appreciated warmth, but even that couldn’t compare to the sheer amount of body heat Sylus was radiating.

Even if sometimes he acted like a complete idiot, he was your idiot. And nothing would ever change that.

With that thought, you drifted off in his arms, lips lightly stretched in a contented smile.

A/n: Had the idea yesterday. Pulled an all-nighter and wrote this in one go,, I need to go to sleep now.

You can find more of my works here 🩷🩷

[lyonnns]

A tired grin hovered on Jenna’s lips as she heard the husk of Cate’s voice; there was comfort in it. She let her fingers trail over the ones caressing her arm. “kinda reminds me exactly why I don’t usually mix drinks,” she lightly joked, her gaze semi-defeated but never moving her attention away. Jenna bit her lip and sat up against the headboard, the sheet slipping slightly from her shoulder. Despite the shift, their closeness remained intact.

She didn’t know whether to be saddened by the sheer idea that the blonde had an inkling she’d wake up in an empty bed, wake up to the fear that Jenna had left. “Hey—” Jenna’s brows furrowed as she reached out, her hand landing over Cate’s lap in a gesture of comfort. She knew that despite leaving reassurance, it never entirely registered. “I just needed to let us both think straight—something I know neither of us could’ve done last night had i not given you the space. But not for a second was I ever not going to come back.” as her frown still remained, she let the sighing breath ease her hand away as she moved up from the edge of the bed and over by the coffee machine Jenna pushed back the covers, stretching before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m making us both coffee first, okay?” she said, her tone light, but the undercurrent of exhaustion still lingered. “Normally, I’d rather drink tap water than hotel coffee, but even I have to humble myself sometimes.” She hummed, glancing over her shoulder at Cate, her expression soft and reassuring. A few minutes later, Jenna returned across the room, moving toward the bed with two mugs in hand. She handed one to Cate, offering a small, reassuring smile. “le voici, bébé,” she murmured, pressing her lips together before settling back against the headboard, legs folded beneath her. Jenna exhaled softly, keeping a firm grip on her cup as she blew on the surface before taking a sip. “So—before you say anything, I want you to just listen,” she said, her tone steady but gentle. “I spent a lot of time thinking about this last night—about everything. And I think it’s best if you hear me out first." taking a beat, her face fell toward's the other woman She paused, gripping her cup a little tighter.

“I was hurt, Cate—I didn’t understand why I reacted the way I did at first. But then it dawned on me… it wasn’t that I thought you were putting responsibility on me. I know this is your decision, something i imagine you’ve wanted for a long time by the sounds of it . And I respect that. But the way it came out last night—it felt like an afterthought, like something casually thrown into the air instead of something we could actually talk about. It made me wonder where I fit into all of this.” She took a slow breath, her gaze steady now. “Because if this is going to work, Cate, I need to feel like I matter in your life—not just when it’s convenient, but in the moments that truly shape it.” It was known that Jenna disliked confrontations of any sort, but this didn’t entirely feel like she was comforting the blonde. It felt like she was placing her heart right in front of her — showing her that vulnerability didn’t have to be a risk, that it could still come with safety. "so, then I wondered between all that... how would I have reacted had you told me without the tension, or the liquid courage? Would I have still been shocked? Confused? Of course. But I imagine it would’ve been different. It would’ve just taken listening—listening to your reasoning, knowing a lot of this was already in process… I imagine, before we were officially a thing? I know adoptions don’t just happen overnight —— But not for one second would I ever make you choose. That wouldn’t even cross my mind. But I know you, and I know why that worry line between your brows is there.” Jenna’s tone lightened as she pointed it out, offering a small, knowing smile. "You and I, we're in this very fortunate position in life where I know the idea of you bringing this little girl into your life is something you want deeply, knowing you can. But you know, despite the unfortunate way I had to find out, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, and I'm staying. And don't think for a second you're not allowed to ask me for help, 'cause newsflash, babe, I'm helping anyway." She reached toward Cate’s free hand, giving it a firm squeeze.As her other hand held the coffee she'd been sipping on, Jenna eventually placed it down on the dresser. "Now... say what you wish, but know I really want to know more about this. I want to know when, and I want to know every detail about this major part of your life."

Cate stirred slowly, the edges of sleep peeling away as the soft husk of Jenna’s voice pulled her back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Jenna’s gaze in the muted morning light filtering through the curtains. For a brief moment, she wasn’t sure where she was—the weight of the night before still lingered like a thick fog. Then she felt the warmth of Jenna’s body beside her, the gentle press of her hand against her cheek, and the pieces clicked into place. Her heart gave a unsteady lurch, caught between relief and the echoes of last night’s fear. “Hi…” Cate echoed, her voice a cracked whisper, rough from sleep and the emotional wreckage she’d carried into the early hours. She blinked slowly, her blue eyes adjusting to the sight of Jenna’s face—tired, yes, but softer than she’d feared, with a trace of that familiar warmth. Her head throbbed, but it was the ache in her chest that felt louder. She shifted slightly, her hand still resting over Jenna’s arm, unwilling to let go of the contact that had anchored her through the night. “The head.. it could be worst” she admitted with a small smile, her fingers tightening just a fraction against Jenna’s skin. She searched her girlfriend’s eyes, trying to break the distance between them— “Yours?” she asked, her tone soft. She didn’t dare dive deeper yet, didn’t trust herself to navigate the raw edges of their last conversation without shattering everything again. But she needed to hear Jenna’s voice, needed to know they could still reach each other, even if it was just through these small, careful steps.

Cate propped herself up slightly, wincing as the movement sent a faint pulse through her temples. The room was quiet, and she let her gaze linger on Jenna—the tousled hair, the faint shadows under her eyes, the way she looked both exhausted and impossibly present. “I… I didn’t think you’d still be here when I woke up,” she confessed, her voice barely above a breath, the vulnerability slipping out before she could catch it. Her free hand moved to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture as she waited, her heart suspended in the space between Jenna’s silence and whatever might come next.

[catilinas]

tagged by @derelictship (thank u <3) to list five songs i currently love & listen to! here is That:

dog rose by arlo parks (and honestly. the whole album. augh)

south london forever (acoustic) by florence and the machine

my lover cindy by marika hackman

passage's end by jesca hoop

the last snowfall by vienna teng

tagging @en-theos @worldline @kankum @ranilla-bean @ed-teach and anyone else who feels like it :-)

[littlelamy]

you were right!

a/n: okay, i know you guys might be tired of me doing these but this is my last one! i hope you all like it 😜 gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The blazing Moroccan sun beats down on Rafe, its intensity mirrored by the firestorm raging in his mind. Dust hangs in the air around him, adding to the harshness of the moment as he stands over the well. Below, Groff coughs and groans, his face contorted in pain, but Rafe barely spares him a second glance. His rage overpowers everything else, even the satisfaction he should feel. He narrows his eyes, voice laced with anger and finality.

“Checkmate, bitch!” he yells down, his words slicing through the hot, tense air. The motorcycle engine he’d used to get out here sits idle a few feet away, rumbling like his frustration.

He turns on his heel, muttering a curse, fists clenched. As he stalks away from the well, he pulls out his phone and dials Sofia’s number, his chest tight with the realization that everything he thought he knew was a lie.

Sofia answers after two rings, her voice as casual as if he hadn’t just found out about her betrayal. “Hey, babe, what’s up ?”

Rafe’s voice is steely, cold. “Is it true? Is it true, what Groff just told me? Is it?”

The silence on her end is all he needs. He can practically hear her scrambling for words, but she never manages to answer. His face twists in anger.

“Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” he snarls, a final, unforgiving edge in his voice. “God, after everything I did for you? We’re done. Done.” He hangs up before she can say another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a bitter scoff. Betrayed, twice over—and he’d ignored the only person who saw it coming.

He stands there, baking in the Moroccan heat, his mind racing back to a month ago in Kildare, when you and he had argued over Sofia. You’d warned him that she wasn’t who she seemed. He’d brushed you off, accusing you of jealousy—knowing damn well that there was more to it. You were his best friend, but it was complicated; that line had already been crossed too many times, with late-night kisses and tangled sheets. But you two hadn’t spoken since that fight, since the way he’d brushed you off had hurt deeper than either of you cared to admit.

Taking a breath, he pulls out his phone again, fingers hovering over your name. He hesitates, swallowing his pride, before finally pressing call.

The phone rings, and you pick up after a few moments, your voice tight with annoyance. “What, Rafe?”

Your tone makes him pause, but the way you sound almost comforts him, even with the irritation clear in your voice. You’re there—back in Kildare, probably sitting cozy in your little apartment. Meanwhile, he’s out here under the scorching sun, alone, trying to piece together his pride.

He clears his throat. “Hey… princess,” he says, voice softened, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. He can almost feel you rolling your eyes on the other end, but he presses on, the words weighing heavy on him. “I—uh… Look, I’m sorry. You were right.”

There’s a surprised pause, and he hears you shift in your seat as if you’re debating whether to hang up or let him speak. When you do answer, your tone is a bit softer, cautious.

“What happened?”

Rafe lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Turns out Sofia was exactly who you said she was. A snake. And here I was, thinking you were just being… petty. But I guess I’m the idiot, huh?”

You breathe out, and he can picture you shaking your head, lips pressed together. “You wouldn’t listen,” you say quietly, as if the words hold more hurt than anger.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice. “I know. I was so damn sure you were just jealous. I mean—” He pauses, grappling with how to say it. “Hell, I thought you were jealous because you… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want me with her because we…” His voice trails off, but the implication lingers between you.

“Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

Rafe bites his lip, letting the words sink in. “Can I see you? I’m done here in a few days, and I could be back in Kildare very soon. I could stop by, explain… properly.”

A beat passes, and when you finally speak, it’s careful, guarded. “After everything you said last time, why should I?”

He laughs softly, almost self-deprecating. “Because I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. And… I miss you.” His voice drops, laced with a warmth he can’t help. “Even if you’re just going to gloat and rub it in my face.”

You chuckle, and he smiles, savoring the sound. “I don’t know if I miss you or if I just feel sorry for you,” you tease, but the playfulness is back in your tone, if only faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, amusement lacing his words. “Act like you don’t care. But come on, you miss me. Admit it.”

A small silence follows, and he imagines the way your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, you relent. “Maybe a little. But you’re bringing wine. Good wine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he says, the flirtation back in his voice. “Only the best for you.”

You scoff, but he hears the hint of a laugh. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a good moment in a long time. He takes a breath, savoring the thought of leaving this mess behind and getting back to Kildare—back to the only person who knew him well enough to call him out, and care anyway. As the call ends, he puts his phone in his pocket, a grin spreading across his face, motivating him to get that crown and go to his princess.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif

[purplecoffee13]

Cross The Line*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N have always had a great professional relationship, all based on one rule; a line they drew the first time they met. But when one day that line accidentally blurs, Harry finds that he doesn’t want it to go back to the way it was…”

Wc: 13k

Tropes: Boss!rry x Secretary!Y/N

Warnings: A LOT of back and forth (this is what Katy Perry wrote hot and cold about), arguing, curse words, smut, dirty talk, degradation, light ch0king, dom/sub dynamics, edging, b0ndage, and recording while… yk🤗

A/N: I’m terribly sorry to have been testing your patience so much the second half of this year, here is a long one shot to say I’m sorry🥲 and I appreciate all of you and I hope you are happy and healthy and will get everything you want in the new year xx💘💘

General Masterlist

HEADER = POV change

Harry's relationship with his secretary is completely normal.

At least, he’s always thought it is.

Sure, it may have seemed more friendly than the usual boss/secretary relationship, but that was only because Y/N was special. She was one of the kind. Smart, stealthy, and sneaky if need be. She did everything he asked for, sometimes before he even realized he should ask her, and was always ready to do more.

Of course, she was attractive as well. Shit, attractive may have even been an understatement. Y/N was drop dead gorgeous and Harry was entirely aware of it. Her ambition made her even sexier, and it's one of the reasons he hired her in the first place.

When Y/N walked through his office door that first time three years ago, he couldn't believe his eyes.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, those wide eyes staring back at him as she froze a couple feet away from him. She was quick to regain herself, though—he had to give her that. But she was nervous as she sat down, even though her movements were calm and the tone of her voice stern. He saw the slightest shake of those hands of her.

Because that job interview hadn't been the first time Harry and Y/N came across each other. It was actually a Halloween party at some high end secretive club in New York one month prior. A night that ended with them hooking up in one of the private lounges.

Even back then, when he never thought he'd see her again, he knew that he would never forget that night, nor the way her face scrunched up as she clenched around him, or the sounds that she made as he drove into her.

He could see that she remembered it as well as she sat across from him that day, but Y/N had quickly made it clear that she was serious about pursuing a career in the film industry. She said she could prove what a great secretary she could be for him, as long as they could put that Halloween night behind them and pretend it never happened. She wouldn't make him regret it, she had told him. He took the chance.

And she had been absolutely right.

Three years had passed and Harry was still thankful to himself for hiring Y/N. She was the best around; fiercely loyal as well. Y/N had been offered jobs by other companies, but she turned down every last one of them. Harry liked to think their relationship played a bit of a part in that as well.

They had become friends—if that's what you could call it—over the years. They had a playful dynamic filled with flirty jokes and random phone calls and favors that blurred that line they had drawn so carefully during Y/N's job interview.

No matter what, Y/N would be the first Harry would call, every time. Whether it was bad business news or a drunken phone call, her number was most likely to be at the top of his last calls. And she always answered, even though she didn't have to. It was a special bond, and while they always danced on it—especially Harry—they never crossed that one line.

Not that Harry needed to. As a matter of a fact, he had quite the adventurous love life. With plenty of people on speed dial and a charming smile that could make anyone's panties drop, Harry wasn't short on romantic escapades. The one thing they all had in common, though, was that it'd never last longer than a few days, and they were rarely ever repeated.

The same couldn't be said for Y/N. In fact, Harry had never seen her with anyone outside of her work, and he never heard her mentioning anything about it...

He didn't know why, but somehow, that thought popped up into his head last Friday as they sat in his office with a drink, celebrating the outstanding reviews that critics had given the newest produced film that was set to premiere next week. Before Harry knew it, he was asking about it.

"Why are you rubbing your temples?" He questioned, watching Y/N massage the side of her head with her eyes closed. He was leaned back in his seat, whiskey in hand as he observed the woman across from him.

"Tension headache." She groaned in response. Despite her grumpiness, Harry couldn't help but grin. What could he say? She was cute when she was grumpy.

"We are literally celebrating, Y/N. What could you possibly be so tense about right now?" He teased, and felt his stomach swirl as a smile painted her lips. She might have rolled her eyes, but she still thought he was funny.

"Oh you have no idea." She mumbled, grabbing her glass and leaning back into her chair. She took a big gulp, her face pulling at the strong taste of the liquor. Harry chuckled.

"You should relax more. Maybe get a hot date to take care of some of that stress for you." He suggested jokingly. Y/N scoffed at the insinuation.

Shaking her head, she said: "I get taken care of just fine, thank you very much."

The equally teasing tone in which she responded caught Harry seriously off guard. Her slight grin pressed down on his chest, and despite having started this joking banter himself, he suddenly didn't find the topic very funny anymore.

"When?"

Y/N locked eyes with her boss. “What?”

"You're here 24/7, when do you even have time to hook up with someone?"

"You know there's this thing called weekends." She joked, but the amusement faded when Harry's mouth didn't even quirk upwards in the slightest bit. It fell quiet for a second or two, and just when Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in."

Harry had said, and soon enough Robin, one of the managers walked in, telling them everyone was going to the pub down the street to celebrate, and if they wanted to come along.

Harry didn't even have the chance to reject the offer—he'd rather spend his nights with his secretary—before Y/N agreed to go along. Feeling obligated, Harry reluctantly gave in as well.

He ended up going home quite early that night, not even properly saying goodbye to Y/N like he normally would before leaving, and he couldn't get the image of her wrapped around another man out of his head the entire ride home. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the fact that it shouldn't, and more importantly, couldn't bother him, which made it even less bearable.

Whichever reason there may have been for it, he decided to drown out his thoughts by inviting one of his old hook-ups to his house. But even as he drove himself into her as she kept screaming his name, he couldn't stop thinking of Y/N. When she had reached her climax and he began to chase his own high—Harry was caught off guard by Y/N's face flashing through his mind, and extremely embarrassed when those images triggered his orgasm.

The next week is awkward, to say the least. It started out Monday, when Harry could barely look Y/N in the eye. She had received the sudden cold shoulder pretty well, but Harry still felt horrible about it. His attitude got less stiff throughout the week, but it was still bad.

By the time Thursday rolls around again, Harry still hasn't had the chance to get that weird feeling out of his system. So when he approaches his office and spots Y/N behind her desk smiling at him, a wave of guilt washes over him.

He curses himself as he sinks into his desk chair, absentmindedly turning on his laptop. What is he doing? Y/N is his assistant. He shouldn't let his protectiveness of her get the best of him. He does not want to lose her in any way.

Harry flinches when there is a knock on his door. He looks up, finding Y/N standing in his doorway. Immediately, he signals for her to come in. She seems a bit nervous as she nears him, and considering she's never been nervous around him, his heart sinks at the idea that the cold shoulder he's been giving her the other night might have affected her way more than he thought.

He just doesn't know how to behave instead.

"You have a meeting in conference room C in five minutes. It's the banker's son who's been proposing his script for the past year. I  know your schedule is tight, especially with the premiere coming up, but I thought you might as well get it over with." She says, putting a stack of papers on the table that Harry can only assume is the script. He nods, quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, smart thinking." The praise falls from his lips in a casual manner, and he doesn't miss the way she physically relaxes at the positive reinforcement. She nods at him, and turns back to the door. Right before she is about to leave the office, she turns around again. Harry leans back in his seat, waiting to hear what she'll say.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped last week." She says, and Harry frowns at the apology.

"What?"

"I clearly said something that ticked you off." She explains,her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know we joke around, but I was afraid that maybe I'd accidentally crossed a line—“

"Y/N, stop it." Harry interrupts her, getting up from his seat. Her lips are locked within a second, and she stares at her boss with wide eyes. His stomach twists at the sight of it. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But— if I said something inappropriate then I want to apologize for it." She says, straightening her posture again, biting her bottom lip so he won't see it quiver. As if he doesn't know the way her body works. As if he hasn't known for three years.

Putting his hands inside his pockets, Harry walks around his desk and stands in front of her. A little closer than he needs to, and yet not as close he would like.

"Let me ask you this: How many times have you declined booty calls for me?" He asks, tilting his head a bit. A slight smile appears on Y/N's face, and she pretends to think it over.

"Twenty-seven." Her smile crinkles her eyes, making them even more glassy. Harry quite literally feels his hand itch to touch her face, but he keeps it sternly in his pocket. "I kept track so I could count all the reasons you definitely won't get into heaven."

At that, he lets out a snort. Y/N can't help but chuckle too, and slowly but surely the weirdness dissolves from the room. When the laughter has died down, she speaks up again.

"So... we're good?"

"We're good." Harry smiles at his secretary, and his chest heats up when he spots the faint blush that appears on her cheeks. Jesus Christ, did she become even more beautiful than she was yesterday or was he just too stupid to notice earlier? Probably the latter.

"Well in that case you need to leave because your meeting is like, right now." She reminds him, and he hums in agreement as he gets up from his seat and walks towards the door with Y/N.

"Already gone, love." He winks at her, walking out the door with a lot more confidence in his relationship with Y/N. Maybe everything can go back to normal again. Maybe he was just exaggerating when he couldn't get her out of his head this weekend. Perhaps it was just a glitch, a temporary error in his brain that had come and gone in a flash.

That must've been it, he tells himself as he makes his way to conference room C. He takes a deep breath, musters a polite smile, and opens the door to the room. Harry already knows this guy is going to be wasting his time, but he made a promise to hear him out, so he will.

The guy sitting at the table is the stereotypical spoiled rich son. When John Longwell—a long-time business partner of Harry's— asked him to revise his son's script as a favor, Harry told him he'd do it if he ever found the time. He always hoped John's son would lose interest and forget about the script by the time Harry could find a free space in his agenda, but unfortunately that hadn't been the case.

And although the arc of the story had sounded absolutely horrendous— something about zombies fueled by a brainwashing radio song, which didn't even make sense to Harry because zombies don't have brains—he couldn't back out anymore. So he needs to get it over with, starting now.

Harry loudly shuts the door.

The guy—whose name he can't really remember at the moment—flinches and turns around, a big grin on his face as he gets up from his seat.

"Mr. Styles, it's a pleasure to see you." The man says, extending his hand, which Harry, in turn, takes. He only gives a slight nod before heading over to the other side of the table and sitting down.

"So, where's your script?" Harry asks, eyeing the empty table. The guy looks flustered, opening his mouth to say something, but the opening of the door interrupts that. Harry leans back in his seat when he spots his secretary walk through it, not even eyeing the other guy as she struts over to him and lays the printed out script on the glass table.

"Sorry, you forgot this. It was still on your desk." She says, finally turning to the man to throw him an innocent smile. His sheepish grin satisfies her enough to turn back to her boss and focus all her attention on him. "I also forgot to ask you— do you want to move up lunch today?"

The corner of Harry's mouth tugs up. Over the last three years, the concept of 'moving up lunch' has become a code for 'should I get you out of this early?'. Y/N came up with it a long time ago, and it has stuck ever since.

"Yes, I would very much like that. Thank you, Y/N." He says, and the way a smirk slowly creeps onto her face makes the hairs on his body rise.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Styles." She gives one final nod before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Harry would lie if he said he didn't let his eyes fall onto the way her hips moved as she strolled away.

Unfortunately the fun doesn't last long, and with the slam of the door Harry is reminded that he still has to sit through this meeting a little longer. He looks down at the script.

"A Thousand Zombies

By Jason Longwell."

Right, Jason, that was his name.

"Jesus Christ, if that were my secretary I'd have her bent over my desk all day. How do you get any work done?" Jason breathed out, grinning like a stupid fucking schoolboy. Harry quite literally felt the storm cloud that came floating right above his head the second he heard that incompetent loser say those words. His hands balled up into fists at the suggestive comment, knuckles getting whiter by the second.

"Get out." Harry growls. John raises his eyebrows, looking around him as if Harry couldn't have possibly been addressing it to him.

"W— what?" He stumbles.

"I don't do business with insolent idiots. Get out." Harry repeats, getting up from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. John follows his movements, anger starting to cloud on his face.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He exclaims in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. At least, Harry assumes that's what he's trying to do.

"I called you an idiot. Now, get the hell out of my face before I boot your sorry ass right to the front door." With one brow raised, he waits as John tries to muster a response until he eventually gives up and storms out of the room. Harry throws the script into the trash as he walks out of the conference room half a minute later. Y/N is immediately by his side.

"That was quick, I didn't even have time to think of an emergency." She jokes as they walk back to Harry's office together. He raises a brow.

"Yes you did. What was it this time? Food poisoning?" He guesses, holding the door to his office open once they've reached it. Y/N grins as she walks past him and takes a seat at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Actually, your car was going to get stolen in about five minutes." She responds, the blush of her cheeks revealing the slight embarrassment of having to voice this excuse out loud. Harry's eyes widen as he walks over to his desk, feeling his assistant watching his every move. He quite likes the feeling.

"No way." He laughs. "You just get more creative by the day."

"What can I say, I'm good at crisis management." She shrugs, crossing her legs and getting into a more comfortable position on the chair. Harry tries his best to not let his eyes float to her legs.

"That you are." He murmurs, the huskier sound of his voice giving a different ambiance to the conversation. As Harry feels the mood switch, he curses himself. Why did he have to ruin it?

Y/N clears her throat. "Anyway— why'd the meeting end early?"

"It ended early because Jason Longwell is a sleazy douchebag." He responds shortly, straightening in his seat in an attempt to gain control of the situation again. He can't let himself slip like this again, and she can't know the real reason he kicked out Jason. But there is no denying the sheer rage that boils his blood when that comment flashes through his memory. He hates that the asshole thought he could just speak about Y/N like that.

"Ooh, what did he say when you kicked him out?" Y/N asks eagerly, still in a playful mood. "You did kick him out right?"

"I don't have time to get into this right now. I need to sign those contracts that were sent in yesterday before I go home." Harry says sternly, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he speaks, but he still sees the slump in her shoulders at his sudden shift in attitude.

"Right, of course." She immediately returns to the responsible secretary she always is, getting up from her seat. He hears her exit the room, heels clacking against the wooden floor. As soon as the door has shut, Harry throws his head back in frustration.

So much for going back to normal.

Playing into the teasing will only rope him further into that forbidden fantasy, and he clearly won't be able to stop himself from resisting her if he does. But he's the one who started all the playfulness, massively screwing himself over he realizes now. If he shifts his behavior, she's always going to think he's mad at her because of something.  But he's going to have to, because Harry can't go back to normal anymore.

Deciding he needs to clear his head, Harry grabs his coat and heads for the elevators without so much as a word. He pretends not to notice the way people's eyes widen when he walks by, suddenly on their best behavior, and although it used to give him an ego boost back when he started, nowadays he just prefers it if people aren't scared of him.

It turns out to be a particularly nice outside for a winter day in London. Not to get it twisted— it's still freakishly cold. It's just that the sun has replaced the endless rain of this entire month. Harry suppresses a chuckle at the irony of the sun finally being out at the very first moment where he's felt so shitty in a long time.

He doesn't know how long he's outside, so he knows it's not fair to be frustrated when he comes back and Y/N isn't at her desk, but he can't help the slight distress that washes over him at the empty seat.

"It's just a date—"

"Your second date!"

Harry creased brows don't do much to hide his feelings when he turns around to see his secretary with a co-worker. The shy smile on her face—accompanied with that blush on her cheeks she always gets when she's secretly giddy about something—disappears at the sight of her boss looking at her like she just killed a puppy.

"Ha— Mr. Styles." She is quick to catch her almost error. Her wide eyes bore into his, filled with confusion and worry. But Harry's frown doesn't give away much, aside. From the fact that he is obviously annoyed.

"I was looking for you." He states stoically, not even acknowledging the employee that is standing next to her. The woman takes the hint and gives Y/N and Harry a small nod before walking away. As soon as she does, Harry turns around and walks towards his own office. He can hear her footsteps following him inside, and with the inconsistent clacking against the floor he can tell she's having a hard time keeping up with his long strides. Still, he doesn't slow his pace.

"I need the papers for the donations printed out and on my desk. And I'll need you to move the meeting with the director of the romance movie to Tuesday evening."

"Yes, of course." The breathy response falls from Y/N's lips the second he finishes his sentence, and by the time he enters his office, she is long gone to do exactly what he asked. Harry shuts the door a little louder than intending to, accidentally shaking the framed artwork on the wall.

Y/N isn't very talkative for the rest of the day, that usual spark of hers seemingly having dimmed. Harry's chest is heavy, knowing his cold attitude was the catalyst for that, but he keeps it up nonetheless. He can't help himself from falling back into it every time he sees her face.

A date. She's going on a date. A second one at that. He can't believe it. Is this who she referred to when she said she gets taken care of? His stomach churns at the possibility.

He tries not to, but Harry still gets warped into the spiral of overthinking about 'date' Y/N has tonight. So much, in fact, that he almost doesn't notice the time flying by until Y/N knocks on his door at 6PM. Harry spots the coat that hangs over her desk chair, and he realizes the work day is over.

"Everything is done for the day and ready for next week. I also sent the papers about the donations with a courier who owed me a favor, so the documents are signed on both parts and the donations will be officially registered by Monday." She explains, hands behind her back. Her new shy behavior—while quite endearing—is excruciating to see. She had always been comfortable around Harry, until now. Until he had to ruin it for the both of them.

"Thank you." Harry gives her a firm nod.

"No problem." She responds a bit awkwardly. "So... I'm going to clock out for the day."

Y/N has already turned around by them time Harry's voice croaks out a 'no'. She whips her head towards her boss, head tilted as she awaited whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I need those contracts for that romance movie." He says before he can even comprehend his words.

"But you won't be negotiating that deal for another two weeks." Y/N retorts, her tone more stern than usual. He can tell she's tired.

"I don't care. I want them on my desk tonight." He holds his head high, despite knowing damn well what he's doing.

He's stalling. Long enough for... he doesn't know actually. For her to cancel her date? It sounds ridiculous now that he really thinks about it.

"Harry, I have an appointment tonight—"

"I said I don't care. I pay you to do as I ask. This is not something you can argue me on." He grumbles. With how Y/N's jaw is clenched, he can't say the same for her attitude. Without another word, she leaves the office.

Harry's worry begins to grow every minute that passes with Y/N out of sight. But when she returns with a stack of papers in her hand after a bit—seven minutes to be exact—that worry evolves into surprise. Walking over to his desk, she plops the papers on them a bit carelessly before speaking up.

"I had them made on Monday because I like to be a few steps ahead." She elaborates. "Now, if that's all, I'm going home."

Y/N doesn't even say goodbye when she grabs her coat and walks to the elevators. Harry sighs to himself, not knowing how the hell he should handle this. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes he really can't do this anymore. He needs to talk to her, if only just to clear the air.

And so, he gets up from his seat and hurries after his assistant.

He catches her just as she walks into an empty elevator, and he joins just before the doors close. Her knitted brows make it clear that she is not in the mood to talk to him.

"I'm sorry... about the documents." Harry confesses, but she doesn't face him. It stays quiet between them for a bit, until the biting sentence falls from Y/N's lips.

"You said we were good."

His heart cracks at her wobbly voice. He can't believe he made her feel this way. If any other person would've brought her to tears, he would've beaten the shit out of them. He reaches for her arm.

"W— we are." He lies. It's the biggest lie he's ever told her, and she knows it, because she immediately turns around.

"No we're not! I said I was sorry if I did something wrong, and you told me it was okay, and now all of a sudden you're being so... cold. I don't understand—" her eyes become glassy. "I don't understand what I did wrong."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to spout out his apologies, when Y/N's phone starts to ring. It takes them out of their little trance, and Y/N fumbles around her jacket for a bit until she's finally found her phone. He can't see who's calling her, but it can't be an expected call if he has to judge by the expression on her face.

"Marco, why are you—" her eyes widen at whatever the voice on the other side of the line is telling her, and Harry subconsciously finds himself leaning in a bit in the hope to find out what's wrong.

"What?" Y/N breathes. Her voice is small, and it sounds defeated, tired. The elevator dings, signaling they're downstairs, but Y/N doesn't move, so Harry doesn't either. She seems to notice and lets out a huff before storming out of the confined space and pacing around the lobby.

"You said we had a green light! That was months ago, Marco! Did you even—" She growls, clutching at her phone so hard Harry is afraid she's going to break it. "You know what, never mind. Give me his number."

The Marco guy seems to say something that he really shouldn't have said, because with the way Y/N's face twists Harry swears he can see steam coming out of her ears

"I don't care that they're not answering, I'll make them answer. Give me their numbers and then go find them." She orders before ending the call. And although the thought really shouldn't be crossing his mind right now, Harry can't help but notice how attractive Y/N is when she's mad. He shakes off the thought, telling himself that's the last thing he should be paying attention to right now.

Y/N paces around one more time, cursing under her breath, before striding past Harry and pushing the elevator buttons like a maniac.

"What's going on?"

Y/N shakes her head. "N— nothing. Just a little hiccup that could've easily been prevented. I won't be long."

Harry raises a skeptical brow, but she doesn't dare to meet his eye. She's lying through her teeth.

"Y/N—"

"Harry, really, it's nothing. I'm taking care of it." She tries to convince him, but he notices the way her hands are slightly trembling. "I'm sorry I was unprofessional. You're my boss. It's my job to take your orders, not question them."

Wait, no.

That aching feeling fills his stomach. His entire body, for that matter. He doesn't want her to be a silent and compliant assistant. That's not why he hired her. He needs someone to push back, to joke around with. Shit— what has he done?

Harry finds himself speechless as she enters the elevator and pushes the button of the seventh floor; the office. His brain isn't fast enough to think of what to say before the doors shut and the elevator ascends.

His feet stay glued to the ground as he ponders, his mind reeling like a rollercoaster. Frustration fills his body to his every finger tip. Everything has gone wrong, and he has no idea how to make it better.

At least ten minutes must've gone by by the time that a concierge taps Harry on the shoulder to ask him if he's okay. Still a bit wary, he nods before excusing himself and leaving the building.

Everything is going wrong.

Leaning over the desk with her face buried between her arms, Y/N is unable to hold back the tears that glide over her cheeks.

First, her boss gets mad at her, and she has no idea why. Then, just when they seemed to be okay again, he changed his attitude up again. And what does she do instead of letting it go? She starts a fight. And now Marco drops a disastrous bomb in her lap that could entirely ruin the movie premiere on Sunday. And if that wasn't enough—and she really thinks it was—this sudden crisis caused her to cancel her date of tonight.

It wasn't anything special, really. Y/N had met Jamie a few weeks ago, and they went out last week. He was a nice guy, handsome too, and she thought he was perfect for a short lived affair. Besides, her vibrator just couldn't live up to her fantasies. She was human, she needed to get off every now and then too. It was like Y/N had this itch in need of scratching, one she hadn't been able to reach in what felt like years.

But that wasn't going to happen now. In fact, she was risking being fired if she didn't solve this problem as soon as possible.

Damn! She really thought she had kept it all together, despite the extreme business this year. She thought she'd done a good job.

But that was a lie, because if she had done a good job, Marco wouldn't have ever gotten into the position where an artist on the soundtrack could manipulate the contract they signed. Y/N had told Marco to make it airtight, already having been suspicious of the artists' integrity from the moment they became part of the soundtrack. She assumed that they would try something.

'Chain' was an up and coming band known for their indie sound, but Y/N would just describe them as two pricks. Not only had they been subtly demeaning to her when Harry met with them, barely acknowledging her existence, they were arrogant as well. They came in expecting a lot more money than Harry and the rest of the company were willing to give them. It was absurd that they expected such a big number, but their cocky attitude didn't fade throughout the meeting.

It was truly a favor to the director, why Harry worked so hard to compromise with Chain. The director had been so passionate about the movie, and he had really wanted the song. If one thing was important to Harry, it's that there went passion onto the projects he produced and invested in. So, he decided to help, and eventually managed to struck a deal with the singers. It was still way above the pay grade they should've got—in Y/N's opinion—but they agreed.

Having seen first hand how greedy those two were, she had told Marco—the guy who handled all the legal documents—to make that contract airtight. She demanded to look it over, but because of her busy schedule, she let Marco have another lawyer look at it before sending the contract.

And now, because of a lazy mistake Chain's lawyer found, they are demanding more money or they'll waive their rights to the music. Something which would be absolutely detrimental because the entire climax of the movie, the cinematography and timing are all tuned to the song.

If she doesn't find a way to solve this problem, this entire premiere could fall apart, and it would all be her fault. She gave the green light to Harry, who gave it to the director. It's all her fault. 

She should've fucking read that contract herself, then this would've never happened.

Between Harry being mad at her, the fact that she was in her luteal phase, and this sudden disaster, the tears began streaming down her face, and the soft crying only turned into full on sobs the more she tries to calm herself down.

She allows herself the mental breakdown, but when she begins to regain control of her breath again after a few minutes, Y/N decides that it's enough. She has a job to get done, and no one was going to swoop in and save her.

So, she starts making call after call, ringing everyone in the immediate vicinity of the two arrogant bastards. It's crucial she reaches them before the night is over. Only forty minutes have passed by the time she is on the seventh person, but it feels like an eternity nonetheless.

She flinches when, while trying to reach Chain's tour manager, the elevator door dings and a shadow nears. Her tense shoulders sink a little bit at the sight of Harry, glad it's not some creep. Her brows crease as she watches him walk towards her. He's carrying a couple of bags with... is that food? It sure smells like it.

When the call goes to voicemail—for the third time—Y/N puts down the phone and gets up from her seat, hurrying over to her boss and stopping him before he could reach her desk.

"What are you doing here?!" She asks, blocking his way. He lifts the bags, a subtle, apologetic smile on his face.

"I brought food—" He looks up at her, and his eyes darken as soon as he takes in her face. "Have you been crying?"

Y/N raises her hands to her face, quickly glancing at the ground while she wipes her cheeks before meeting his eyes again. Harry puts the bags down, and it feels like her heart skips a beat or two when his thumbs stroke the skin under both her eyes. He leaves his hand around her face, cupping her jaw while he stares at her with such a piercing pain in his eyes that it makes Y/N's eyes water altogether again.

"What's wrong?" His voice is soft, and the feel of his big, warm hands holding her is comforting her in a way she hasn't experienced in a quite some time. Y/N only focused on his chest, afraid that the welled up water in her eyes will spill out again the second she looks at her boss. She told herself the crying was over, so why wasn't she able to control herself?

A few seconds pass, and silence runs between the thick air that makes it nearly impossible to breathe normally. Then, Y/N feels the slight pressure of Harry's hands, inching her head upwards. Automatically, her gaze flicks to that of her boss, and when she sees the worry on his face, a tear escapes her eye. His thumb catches it before it has the chance to roll down all the way down her cheek.

"I messed up." She only says, closing her eyes in shame. Harry says nothing, only letting out a sigh as he continues to caress her cheek.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Y/N reluctantly backs away from Harry's touch, and runs over to her desk to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" She says, her voice laced with such desperation that she internally cringes at it.

"Y/N? It's Marco. I found them, they're at a studio just outside the city."

She hums, grabbing a pen. "Give me the address."

"No, I'm going. This is my mess, Y/N, I'm not going to let you clean it up." Marco croaks from the other side of the line, and Y/N feels his voice tug at her heartstrings.

"Marco, listen to me. This is as much my fault as it is yours. I should've read the damn thing and notice the mistake." She replies, leaning over her desk to grab her coat.

"Y/N, I'll take care of it, okay? I found a fault in their loophole, they're stuck. Let me handle this. You just go home and enjoy what's left of your evening I ruined—" Marco tells her. "Wait, didn't you have a date tonight? Oh my god, did I ruin your date?"

"I did... but it's alright. It probably wouldn't have worked out with him anyway." Y/N chuckled awkwardly and glanced towards Harry, who looked weirdly annoyed at what she said.

"I'm so sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Marco shares the desperate plea.

"You can make it up to me by giving me the address of the studio." Y/N tells him cheekily.

"Y/N..." he warns.

"What? I promise I'm going home. It's just so I know where you are." She lies. Y/N is a good liar, except in front of Harry. Having a tendency to get nervous, she always betrays herself. She's lucky that this is a phone call, otherwise Marco would've known she wasn't planning on going home at all.

Hesitantly, he gives her the address, which she immediately writes down on her hand.

"Okay, thank you Marco. Good luck." She says, hanging up the phone with a lot more confidence than ten minutes ago. She can feel Harry staring her down as she puts on her coat, clearly waiting for an explanation for this whiplash-like behavior.

"I really have to go."

Harry shrugs. "I'll give you a ride. You can explain everything to me on the way to your house."

Y/N shakes her head, walking towards her boss. "No, really, you don't have to."

"Yes I do." Harry argues.

"You really don't."

"Do you have a problem with me bringing you home, Y/N?" He asks as if he's dumb, as if he doesn't know she's secretly trying to go to that studio.

"No!" She is quick to protest.

"Or does it have anything to do with the address of that mysterious studio you've written on your hand?" He teases, and Y/N clenches her jaw in frustration.

"I just— I need to make sure it's handled." She sputters. Harry shrugs.

"From what I heard it's being handled just fine." He points out. "You've got to learn to let things go sometimes, Y/N."

She shakes her head, looking the floor. "I can't. Not with this."

Harry lowers his head, trying to get on the same eye-level as her and searching for her eyes. "Why not?"

"I told you; I messed up." Her voice quivers as she tells Harry the truth. "There was a mistake in the contract with Chain. Somehow they found a loophole, and now they want more money or they'll waive the rights to their song."

"What?!" Harry growls, exactly like Y/N anticipated he'd react. God, he's going to fire her any moment.

"It's my fault. It was a reference mistake I could've easily spotted if I had taken the time to revise it." She admits, feeling extremely shameful of her lazy actions.

"What are you talking about? This is the legal team's fault, they should've seen that damned mistake! It's not in your job description to revise a contract, it's not your responsibility. It's not your fault, Y/N." He explains. She sucks in a breath, his words hitting her harder than she expected. Heart aching, the one sentence rings in her head.

It's not your fault.

That couldn't be true, could it? She was responsible for this deal, and for Harry. She should've seen this coming, even though she couldn't have possibly known. Did she not always pride herself in having this sixth sense, in being ahead of everyone else? What was she without that? What was she if not the best at the one thing that made her special, that set her apart from the crowd. What was she worth without that invincibility?

"You revise every contract, don't you?"

Her eyes flick towards her boss. She doesn't say anything, but the answer is hidden in her pupils. And it seems Harry can read them like an open book. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Two years." Y/N stammers, her arms crossed as if it will keep her body from revealing whatever her mouth won't. Harry just lets out a breathy chuckle before pulling her into his arms, taking her into a sweet embrace. With his chin leaning on her head, Y/N takes the opportunity to bury her face in his chest, trying not to bask too much in the heavenly scent of his cologne.

"Remind me to give you a raise." He jokes in a soft whisper, earning a sniff of laughter from Y/N.

For a while it seems like everything that tore her down, including what went down between her and Harry, didn't exist anymore. There was just him and her, their embrace and a distant ticking clock, the only indicator of time passing. Yet it felt like the world stopped, or slowed down at least, being in Harry's arms like that. And suddenly, that itch that she hadn't been able to scratch in so long, it felt like it was soothed by a stroking hand instead, and in a way it fulfilled her. It just so happened to be a way she did not expect.

The initial shock at the realization—this puzzle piece that suddenly clicked—made Y/N back away. She clears her throat, fiddling with her hands.

"They're supposed to be at this studio right outside the city. It's only twenty minutes away by car. I just need to be sure." She announces. Harry grabs the bags of food he put down before placing his hand on her lower back and guiding the both of them back to the elevator.

"We'll take my car." He states, and although Y/N can tell by his tone that Harry expects there to be no talking back, but she just can't help herself.

"Harry, I told you I can take a cab." She suggests as they wait for the elevator door to open. Harry doesn't respond as he guides them both into the small space and pushes the button for the ground floor. When the door closes, he turns to her, looking down at her with such an intimidating stare that Y/N feels like she's shrinking.

"And I told you: we're taking my car." He says sternly, his low voice twisting her stomach in an interesting way. When Y/N goes to open her mouth again, Harry lays his finger on her lips. He hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

"I was being clear, right?" He asks rhetorically. His gaze sweeps over her mouth before settling on her eyes again. Not daring to speak another word, let alone breathe, Y/N only nods in response.

"Good." Harry responds, a cocky smirk framing his face as he strolls out of the elevator, leaving Y/N breathless and in a slight trance. Blinking a few times, she comes back to her sense and hurries after her boss.

Richard has always been a master at reading people, and this time is no exception. The second he began driving, he raised the partition, leaving Harry and Y/N with some privacy.

Harry really has a knack for hiring the right people.

The first few minutes of the car ride are silent, and Harry spends it observing Y/N as she picked at her nail beds, frantically looking at of the window as if it would make the car move faster. She has so much tension inside that little body of hers; she is clearly in need of a distraction.

"I think I'm jealous."

Y/N's head whips to him, brows raised at the sudden confession. Her body turns with her, knees now in Harry's direction as she leans back into the seat, getting comfortable as she lays close attention.

"Of me?" She asks, utterly confused. She seems very lost, not really connecting the dots. Harry doesn't blame her; that confession was quite out of the blue.

"Of whoever gets to take care of you."

Pure silence. Harry swears he could hear a pin drop. Y/N stares at him like a deer in headlights, probably having no idea what to say or do or think. She gulps.

"What?" Her voice is so soft that he almost doesn't hear her, but since all his focus is on her, he doesn't miss it. Letting out a breath, he leans forward, placing a hand on her thigh. His face inches closer and closer until their mouths are mere inches away from each other. Checking for her reaction with every small movement, he can't help but notice how she doesn't stray away from him. In fact, she leans in, causing their lips to brush against each other.

"The idea of another man touching you, having you, it makes my fucking blood boil." He says, voice hoarse. Her eyes frantically search every last inch of his face, looking for something she seemingly can't find. Perhaps she's attempting to find the usual playfulness that always accompanies any conversation that blurs that line between them. In that case, she could keep looking forever and ever, because he is dead serious. Fuck how it used to be and fuck whatever's right or wrong.

And most of all, fuck that line, because he's crossing it.

Harry closes the small gap between them, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to work up his throat at the sole feeling of her lips against his. What a fucking idiot he was for ever agreeing to forget about that Halloween night. Not that he ever truly did forget about it. Besides her obvious competencies, hiring Y/N was a way of keeping her where he seemed to like her best from the moment they met; close to him.

With that thought in mind, he wraps his hand around her face and pulls her closer. She complies, clicking her seatbelt free to move further towards Harry when he slips his tongue inside.

Their mouths move against each other like it's both the first time and the hundredth time they've done this. So familiar and yet it's like nothing he ever felt before. A sensation so different from three years ago, one so heavy and laced with a detail his brain can't quite seem to grasp. Deep down, he knows what it is, he just can't quite lay his finger on it.

But his body can, and it does, and so does Y/N's, because her grinding against him is exactly what he needs. His hand sneaks around her neck, lips curling into a smile at the familiarity of the curves of her neck and the identical moan that falls from her lips just as it did three years ago.

Harry groans when the car suddenly stops and Y/N falls forward a little bit, the friction against his trousers being a bit too much to bear at the moment. Slowly, the partition lowers, and without so much looking at them through the mirror, Richard speaks up.

"We've arrived."

Wrong. Harry clearly hasn't.

Before Harry can catch his breath, Y/N can get off his lap, and either one can even answer, the partition rises again. Immediately, Y/N throws her face into Harry's neck.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She wheezes out in pure, utter shame. Harry shakes his head, a faint grin on his face. He would have been laughing his ass off if he wasn't so painfully hard right now. Instead, he only pats Y/N's back, telling her it's fine. She groans and opens the car door.

"No it's not! God, I will never be able to look him in the eye again!" She says, punching the bridge of her nose. Harry shuts the door and grabs Y/N's waist, pulling her towards him. She stumbles into his chest. He lifts her face with his fingers, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're going to have to, because I don't want to fire him." He jokes, and Y/N bites her lip to keep her smile from growing too wide. Not wanting to give Harry the satisfaction that he made her laugh, she looks to the side, but her face expression falls quickly.

"This is not my apartment." She notes, looking at the huge building next to her. "This is yours."

Harry nods.

"I can't be at your apartment, I have to—" Y/N stops herself before she can say more. But Harry already knew what she was going to say. Playfully, he raises a brow.

"You have to... what?"

"To... I have to—"

"Sneak out to that studio?" He finishes her sentence, and her eyes widen. She tries to regain herself but her cheeks are flushed and there is nothing she can do anymore. He's got her. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

With that, he places a hand on her lower back and guides her towards his building. She stumbles a bit, but eventually catches onto the pace. But her body language is apprehensive, looking back at the road where Richard is standing. Or well, was standing. Harry ordered him to drive away as soon as they got out of the car.

Still, she turns around in a quick motion, trying to get to a cab. Harry's arm catches her, however, and he pulls her back against his chest. Along with his other hand, he turns her around, catching sight of her big eyes boring into his.

"Don't try me." He speaks slowly, dipping his head down until he finds himself inches away from Y/N. "You know what happens if you try me."

His voice is lower than before, having flipped a switch now that her mouth has been on his. He got a taste for the first time in years, he wasn't going to let her get away now. Y/N's breath hitches, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Knowing he's got her right where he wants her, Harry pulls back and strolls toward the entrance of his apartment building. Soon enough, he hears those heels behind him and he smirks.

It's silent when they step in the elevator, and for the first few seconds, as Harry leans agains't the wall and observes his secretary, it stays that way. She eyes him a couple of times, her ears getting redder.

"What?" She breathes out, looking down at her body like there must be something wrong if he's looking at her for so long. He simply shrugs.

"Nothing. Just admiring you."

At that, Y/N vigorously shakes her head and crosses her arms. A soft scoff leaves her mouth, one she didn't think Harry would hear, but he did. He takes a few steps towards Y/N, inching her against the wall.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He asks sincerely, searching for her eyes. When she finally looks up at him, the nervous smile on her face fades a bit.

Harry doesn't like that look on her face. Needing to fix it, he leans forward and plants his lips on hers again, grabbing her face and pulling her into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before her arms are wrapped around his neck and their bodies are impossibly close to each other again.

Tongues delving deeper into each other's mouth, Harry feels himself floating on some sort of feeling. Despite not being able to define it, he is absolutely positive that he doesn't ever want it to stop. And since kissing Y/N causes this specific feeling, the only feasible option is to never stop kissing her. It's the best plan he's had in ages.

It doesn't take long before the situation gets heated, much like it did before, and Harry's hands trail to Y/N's hips to pull her against him. Desperate for any sort of relief, Harry's hips automatically start to move, and Y/N immediately responds. His body feels like it's on fire, and he tries not to let out any sounds as his strained cock rubs against his tight pants.

Harry takes his lips off Y/N's mouth, peppering kisses to her jaw instead. Slowly, he works his way towards her ear, where he stops to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to remind you how fucking beautiful you are." The hot breath that left his mouth had her shuddering against him, a slight whine escaping her lips. As he leaves sloppy kisses on Y/N's neck, Harry's free hand slowly travels under her shirt, finding her bra.

She gasps softly when his hand starts to massage her breast, the sensitivity of both spots leaving her hot and bothered under Harry. Fuck, she is so fucking stunning, how did she not see it herself?

Suddenly, the elevator stops, and the door opened. Taking a step back, Harry only winks at Y/N before he turns around and strolls out as if it's a casual Friday. As if he doesn't have his secretary, whom he left high and dry, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks when they enter his home, Harry immediately going into the kitchen.

"Absinthe." Y/N breathes out, leaning over the kitchen island. Harry peeks inside his fridge.

"I only have white wine."

Y/N shrugs. "I'm sure it'll have the same effect if I just keep drinking."

Harry chuckles, grabbing the bottle of wine and placing it on the counter. He walks to a cabinet and takes two wine glasses out of it. Placing one in front of Y/N and the other in front of himself, he opens the bottle and starts pouring, not stopping until the glasses are halfway full. Y/N laughs at the ridiculously full wine glass that he pushes her way, but takes it gladly. He doesn't miss the way her breasts nearly spill out of her top as she leans forward a bit further than intended to in order to grab the glass.

"To the unexpected." She says it like it's a dare. Amused, Harry decides to entertain it, and nods his head.

"To the unexpected."

They raise the glasses before both taking a long sip. Y/N rests her arms on the table, giving a perfect view of her tits right in Harry's frame. She smirks when his eyes accidentally fall on it, and Harry's stomach swirls with excitement. She's trying to play.

"Crazy, how fast life can change, isn't it?" She asks rhetorically, and Harry just hums, waiting patiently for her to reveal what she's trying to do. "I mean, I got up today thinking I'd end the day in another man's bed."

There it is.

She's always been smart, and she knows how to push Harry's buttons. Though his fingers grip the kitchen counter tightly, so much that his knuckles turn white, Harry keeps the corners of his mouth lifted.

"And now you're here." He says, head tilting just a bit. She hums in agreement, taking another sip from her wine.

"Yeah, but just crazy to think that I went into the day thinking I'd hook up with someone else." She tells it so innocently, as if she's mostly talking to herself. Harry's jaw clenches as he stalks around the kitchen island and nears Y/N.

"But you're not, though." Harry notes, falling right into the trap. He knows what she's trying to do but he just can't help himself. He doesn't like the idea of her being with another man. He waits for her answer, hearing his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"I know, but I could have—"

Before the sentence has entirely left Y/N's mouth, Harry's hand flies to her neck. The amused look on Y/N's face tells him enough, but he doesn't care.

"You're not. You're in my bed tonight, and any night after that as far as I'm concerned, so I don't want to hear another fucking word about it."

Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she stares up at him. "You really are jealous."

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, "And you've gotten feisty over the years."

Y/N bites her bottom lip, humming in agreement to his observation. Harry lets out a soft chuckle, tightening the grip on her neck. Y/N gasps in surprise.

"But do you still like to be put in your place?" He asks, inching his face close to hers. The answer is written in her eyes, and yet Y/N doesn't respond. When it's clear that she won't anytime soon, Harry's free hand sneaks around the waist of her pants. She shivers at the touch.

"Well? Do you?" He repeats himself, and slowly but surely, Y/N nods her head. Harry lets out a disapproving noise. "That's not a proper answer."

Closing her eyes, Y/N lets out a deep breath. "Yes, I like to be put in my place."

"That's what I thought." Harry laughs, taking his hands off of her entirely. She frowns, but her eyes widen when he barks out a demand. "Take off your clothes."

He watches carefully as she follows his orders, and she clearly takes her time stripping down to her underwear. When she has, she looks to him for some sign of approval, but Harry just raises his brows. His hands are sunk into his pockets as Y/N lets out a little breath and takes off her bra and panties.

His eyes trail down her body, his cock hurting at the sight of her. God, she's beautiful. He feels like an absolute idiot for not having fought for her earlier, but he reminds himself that he can't change the past and that she is here now, stark naked in his kitchen. A grin spread across his face.

"Do you remember how you addressed me all those years ago?" He asks. It takes a few seconds before Y/N answers, but she gives him a firm nod.

"I called you sir."

Harry nods. "Rules haven't changed. Now, get on the counter."

Her eyes flick to the marble countertop, shock flashing through her eyes. "But Har—"

His right brow lifts ever so slightly. Catching the hint, Y/N stops herself before she can finish the sentence and hoists herself on to the cold countertop. It must not be very pleasant to lay your naked body on that freezing surface, but it was an uncomfortable temporary obstacle. The results would be great, and in about thirty seconds, she'd forget all about that cold touch against her skin.

Harry pulls out one of the bar stools and sat directly in front of Y/N. Spreading her legs apart, he catches sight of that perfect pussy he has been waiting three years to taste again. Like a starved man sat in front of a feast, the urge to dive right in is almost too strong to bear. But before he has her writhing under him, he wants to make her shiver.

"Can't believe it took us so long to get here." Harry hums, tracing his fingers up her thigh, carefully observing the way Y/N tries to control her breathing. Her fists are balled up into curls, attempting to send her concentration to anything else than Harry. He tries not to let his smugness show too much, but he has to say he likes seeing her struggle a bit. A bit of payback for trying to toy with him just now.

"You've always been stubborn." Y/N jokes, a gasp strangling out of her when Harry's fingers ghost over her clit. He chuckles, the tone of his voice so low that it could almost be considered evil.

"If I remember correctly, you're the one who wanted to forget about that Halloween night." He notes. Y/N hums.

"I also made the condition to act professionally, but we didn't do that either." Her eyes gaze into his, catching the fond smile with which he stares at her. A faint blush erupts on her cheeks.

"You drew the line." Harry retorted, and Y/N scoffed.

"You crossed it about a hundred times." She argues in response. He only hums, that cocky smirk on his face.

"I did, and consider this hundredth and first time to be the last, because I'm not getting behind that line again."

Y/N has never been so turned on her in her entire life. Harry’s words are the epitome of determination, and the way his fingers slip inside her so easily the second he finishes his sentence only solidifies that notion. The gasp that leaves her mouth is cut short and evolves into a low moan as Harry’s lips latch onto her clit.

Sensitive would be an understatement for her current state. She is aching, and the way Harry is ravishing her almost hurt. But any pain dwells in comparison to her desire she was overcome with at the situation she currently finds herself in. She is on Harry's kitchen counter, legs spread wide open and letting him do all the things that slipped into her dreams over the past three years.

Harry sucks in all the ways that made her squirm, moving his fingers with such ease that made it seem like he has fingered her a thousand times already. As if he knows her like the back of his hand, as if he knows all her secrets, even ones she doesn't know herself.

Y/N's hand buries itself in Harry's hair when he begins to kitten lick her clit, and she feels that inevitable climax inching closer and closer. She wonders how she had been able to keep herself composed for so long, because the high that creeps up on her feels like it was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the sensation comes to a grinding halt when Harry backs away from Y/N. Her head shoots up, and finds him leaning over her body, wearing boyish half-smile that is now glimmering with her juices.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other one under her legs, he picks her up bridal style. She holds onto his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. When she begins unbuttoning his shirt, he throws her on his bed. She lets out a soft yelp, bouncing onto the bed.

"So greedy..." Harry tuts in disapproval, but Y/N doesn't quite care. She wants him, bad, and now that she's had a preview of what's to come she doesn't want to wait any longer. She needs him and she needs that orgasm.

She pulls him closer by his pants and starts to unbuckle his belt. "You're taking too long."

Y/N is about halfway done when Harry's firm hand wraps around her neck and pulls her closer to his face. Inching down, he growls: "You'll take what I give you."

"Then give me something." She spits back, and Harry's eyes turn five shades darker at her invitation to a challenge. He slowly leans back, Y/N watching his every movement in anticipation.

"On your stomach."

Y/N stomach swirls at the command, and she obeys as quick as she can. It stays silent for a little bit, and she awaits his further actions eagerly.

"Hands behind your back."

Again, she does what he says. Y/N doesn't dare to turn her head as she hears Harry walking around his room. When she feels a silky material around her wrists, she knows enough. He's tying her up.

Knowing better than to do otherwise, Y/N keeps her mouth shuts as Harry makes an impenetrable knot with his tie. She moves her wrists, assessing how tight it really is, and gets interrupted by a punishing slap on her ass. The sting remains for a couple of seconds, and she is sure there is now a red print the size of Harry's hand on her right cheek.

"Ass up." He barks out his final order, no doubt smirking as she changes her position, slightly struggling now that her arms are of no use.

Y/N bites her lip in anticipation when Harry's hand grabs onto her hips, steadying himself behind her. She slightly flinches forward when the tip of his cock teases her entrance, and attempts to speed up the process by leaning backwards a bit. She's rewarded with another slap on her ass.

But then Harry finally sinks in, and that dreadful itch that plagued Y/N for such a long time is finally scratched, over and over again as he begins to pound into her with long, slow strokes.

"Fucking hell..." Harry murmurs, his cock suctioning into Y/N's tight, clenching pussy. He is so big, and it bruises her in all the right ways.

"Oh baby... thaaat's it." He groans when Y/N begins to bounce back on his cock, aiming to get it even deeper inside of her. She is ruthless in her movements, groaning at the overwhelming sensations. When Harry gropes her ass— and his nails bite into her skin—she loses control.

Burying her face into the mattress, Y/N screams as she reaches her peak. The sound of Harry's moans at her pussy convulsing around his cock only strengthens her orgasm. Her mind goes entirely blank as the shattering release ripples through her like an earthquake. The only thing she can think of is Harry's name, and it's the only thing she cries out as the dizzying explosion settles all over her body.

"You really are desperate, aren't you?" Harry sneers as he pulls his cock out of Y/N, letting go of her hips. She nearly falls over, her tied up hands making it difficult to catch herself. This orgasm was so intense, she could feel the three years of pent up tension as it washed over her. Her cheeks are burning red and her teary eyes makes her vision somewhat blurry.

Y/N is thrown off when Harry suddenly turns her around and she finds herself lying on her back. The way he towers over her would have been intimidating had it not been extremely hot.

"Came on my cock so fast..." he mumbles cockily, corner of his mouth pulled up like the arrogant bastard he is. "Such a slut for it."

Y/N wants to give him some snappy comeback, but her brain is still fried from the orgasm and she's always liked to be degraded in bed, so she decides to only glare at Harry while he speaks. He catches it, and his grin only widens.

"You know it's true, baby." He tells her, bringing your legs over each of his shoulders. That deviant smirk is the last thing Y/N sees before her eyes roll into the back of her head at the feeling of Harry's cock stretching her out again.

He leans forward, almost folding her in two, and reaches deeper. He stays there for a few seconds—as if he is catching his breath—then slowly backs out of her before slamming right back in. Y/N lets out a screech that, if it hadn't been for the desperation laced in its tone, would've sounded like someone was trying to murder her.

Trying to keep her own moans at a minimum, Y/N closes her eyes and listens to the harsh slaps of Harry's skin against hers, and the groans that escape his mouth with each thrust. The strength behind each movement makes her clench around Harry, who in turn hisses her name as if it were a curse word. It only causes her to clench more. 

"Fuck, such a pretty little whore." Harry praises as he drives into her. Y/N can only whine, her tits bouncing uncontrollably at the impact of his motions. She must look fucking helpless. Opening her eyes, she catches the way Harry looks at her; like she's a dream. Like she's his dream.

"My pretty little whore." He growls, leaning back and holding one of her legs with his arm while the other reaches for her breasts.

"Yes..." Y/N breathes as he begins squeezing her breasts, getting lost in the sensations of him. Somehow it feels like Harry is everywhere. As if he has latched onto a part of her soul and she feels him coming to claim that every time his cock sinks into her.

"Such a tight fucking fit." He groans, taking her nipple between his fingers. "You should see how perfectly your pussy sucks in every inch of my cock..."

Y/N bites her lip as Harry talks, trying not too get too overwhelmed by the filthy things he's telling her as he plunges in and out of her. Her eyes catch the flex of his muscles that occur with every thrust, and she wonders how she got a man so perfect to fuck her stupid like this.

"Should record it... make a little video for just the two of us. What do you think?"

Oh my god.

"Don't you want to see how perfect we fit together?" He taunts, thrusting his hips harsher than before, hitting a spot that had been untouched for quite a while now. Y/N's face scrunches up.

"F—fuck! Yes, yes..." She responds when Harry stills inside of her to await an answer. He chuckles at the apparent hurry in her voice and reaches for—what Y/N assumes to be—his phone, on the bed. His motions are slow and soft, determined to keep Y/N satisfied at least a bit while he logs into his phone and searches for the camera app. She notices the start of his recording by the sudden change of pace and force of his movements.

His camera is pointed right at her pussy as he begins thrusting deep inside of her, and Y/N screams out Harry's name. The concentration on his face as he captures how she takes him proves too much to bear, and she shuts her eyes tightly, head flopping to the side.

She can hear his ragged breathing over all the other sounds that their bodies are making. The small grunts he makes in an effort not to moan too loudly is all she can focus on, and the tension in her belly grows exponentially with each vibrations of his voice that reaches her ears.

Harry slows his pace, putting more emphasis on the impact of his moves. It allows him to bring his free hand down to touch Y/N's clit. Her legs begin to shake the second he does.

"Are you gonna come again for me? I'm so close, baby. I can tell you are too." The softness in the delivery of his words have Y/N's ovaries rattle. She can only nod, a whine that was an attempt at a 'yes' falling from her rosy lips. Harry grins, his eyes flicking from his phone to her face. Everything feels so hazy, much like a daydream.

"Please don't stop." She squeals in such a high pitch that surprises even herself. Y/N had no idea she could go that high. Harry's bringing out an entirely new side of her.

"I'll never stop, baby." Harry rasps, pressing down on her clit in such a way that Y/N becomes cross-eyed for a second. Her nails grip into the bedsheets, the second release rippling through her like a hurricane. She never quite understood the word bliss, until now. This must be it; this feeling of... pure ecstasy.

Like a blank canvas splattered on with all the bright colors that exist in the world; fresh and exciting and psychedelic in a way. Impossible to define yet such a specific feeling. Y/N let all of it tingle from her head down to her toes, wanting to remember it forever.

The continuous pounding Y/N through her orgasm comes to a grinding halt when Harry reaches his own, pulling out just in time for his sperm to coat her puffy clit and swollen tits. His camera is focused on her frame, recording every spurt that paints her. She's the canvas, he's the colors, Y/N realizes. Harry is her definition of bliss.

The words shared between the two are scarce as Harry unties Y/N's hands, picks her up and carries her to the bathroom to clean her up. But the smiles on their faces says enough, both knowing what they feel is rare, and beautiful. Y/N assesses Harry's face, concluding that the soft edges of it makes him look like a proper angel.

When he's dressed her in one of his shirts, he takes her back to the bedroom, where he pulls her against his frame. Y/N wraps one leg around his torso, hugging him from the side with her head buried into his neck. The way his chest rises and lowers fills her with pure ease, and she leaves a few soft kisses in his neck as a silent thank you. Harry only hums in satisfaction, his arm only tightening around you, as if he's afraid you might let go.

"I'm never gonna let you go now." You tell him before you can even fully comprehend your words. Your heart starts racing, afraid that might've been too soon to say.

"Promise?"

Your racing heart is now melting as you turn your head and see Harry holding up his pinky. You are quick to interlock it with your own.

"Promise." You say with a smile.

General taglist: @mema10

[moonchildstyles]

I know angel is innocent, but do you think that if Harry had to go away for business or family or something, that she might 🥸 you know.... 🥸🥸 ˢᵉˣᵗ ʰᶦᵐ

wordcount: 9.3k+

—————

(Y/N) knuckled at her eye, attempting to get the sleep out so she could see Harry clearly. It would be the last time she'd see him for the next week, she wanted to remember every detail. 

"Stop," Harry murmured, gently grasping her wrist and pulling her hand from her eye. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing that, love." 

"Sorry," she yawned, blinking up at him. It was way too early to be awake, but she wasn't going to let him leave without a proper send off. 

"'S alright," he sighed, shifting his hold on her wrist until she was gathered against his chest. He dropped a kiss to her head, voice muffled against her hair when he said, "Jus' don't forget while 'm gone, 'kay?" 

"I'll try," she relented, keening into the warmth radiating from his chest, "What time do you land?" 

"It'll be a little after nine, I think. Y'think you'll be awake then?" 

"Maybe," she sighed, "I've got to feed Evie, so probably." 

He hugged her a bit tighter at the mention of his first born. "Will y'send me a picture when y'do? I miss her already." 

"I will," (Y/N) promised, pulling away from where her cheek had nestled against his shoulder. Blinking up at him, she told herself not to cry when he matched her gaze. It wasn't fair that he looked so cozy and warm, pliant with his own sleep, and was planning on leaving her all by herself for the next week. "Will you send me a picture of you when you land? Because I miss you already." 

It was a silly request, one that was supposed to be lighthearted—for the both of them—but only served to make her bottom lip quiver by the time the words hung between them. A pout crossed Harry's features. Dropping his bag, his now free hand landed on the back of her head, cradling her snug against him. 

"Baby," he crooned, "I miss y'too, you know that. We've never been apart like this before, have we?" Only a pathetic shake of her head was offered. "But we'll be alright. Jus' call me when y'need me, and I'll answer. You might even like having the place to yourself for a little—won't even want me to come home." 

Her eyes watered at his teasing allegation. "I'll always want you to be home with me." 

A soft sigh escaped from his chest. "Oh, love. I'll be home soon, I promise. 'S only a week." 

"I know," she blubbered, "Just wish I could go with you." 

"But you're being responsible and going to class and studying instead. Not something to be sad about at all." He pet his hand down the back of her head, gentle fingers brushing the back of her neck and warming her skin. "Besides, y'don't want to be at these conferences. They're boring." 

"Then why are you going?" If they were so boring, maybe she could convince him to stay in bed with her for the whole week instead of working.

"Gotta be on top of everything, love," he said, just as he had every other time she asked why this conference was so important, "Can't be the best tattooer in the world if I never go and see what's new." 

She deflated. He was using her words against her, the praises she would mean whether or not he went to these conferences and conventions. 

"'S gonna be alright, darling. Really," he insisted, his tone growing serious as he cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her back just enough to get a look at her. "I'll miss you, but I'll be home before y'know it. Then we can spend the whole weekend together before I go back to work." 

That did sound nice. Especially since she was more than sure she would be able to convince him to order in and eat in bed with her. 

"Okay," she relented, voice a bit watery, "Love you, H." 

His features grew soft. Without the aid of his signature eyeliner, there were only soft edges to his eyes, matching the soft curl of his lips. With his hair pulled back, she could see every plane of his face where she was used to seeing a stern edge or cutting line. But not when it came to her; everything was soft when he looked at his love.

"I love you too, (Y/N)," he murmured, ducking his head to press a simple kiss to her lips. "I'll text y'when I get to the airport, but please go back to sleep if you're still tired." 

(Y/N) chased after her, catching him in another kiss, this one a bit harder and more urgent. Their last kiss to be shared for the next week, and she was going to make it worth it. Even if she did start feeling her eyes begin to burn and her nose warm. 

His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her cheek in his palm. He let her take what she needed, slotting his lips to hers with her bottom one between his two. It was sweet and giving, the way she sank into him, eager to get as much of her fill as she could manage in the short time frame. 

With his head much clearer, Harry drew away first, offering a smattering of pecking kisses before leaving the warmth of her presence. 

"Gonna make me miss my flight if you're not careful," he teased, offering one more press of his lips to the bridge of her nose. 

(Y/N) canted her head. That wasn't such a bad idea, actually. If he missed his flight, it would be way too much work to reschedule and possibly update his accommodations—

"No, I know what you're thinking, love," Harry smiled, shaking his head as he interrupted her line of thought, "I've still got to go." 

She made a show of deflating, taking the route of attempting to make him laugh instead of giving into the lump forming in her throat. 

"Fine," she sighed, as if he had punctured all of the air from her, "This time, I'll let you go. But you might not be so lucky the next time." 

"So generous, my lovebug is," Harry murmured, hugging her extra tight as he fit his face into her neck. "I love you so much, baby. I'll let y'know when I land." 

"Okay," she whispered, not trusting her voice to go any louder, "I love you, too." 

He pulsed his arms around her for a lingering moment before doing the hard part of untangling from her limbs. She felt decidedly colder once he left the space of her bubble. (Y/N) could only wrap her arms around her middle to keep herself from reaching for him.

She watched as he slung his bag over his shoulder. The roses on his neck bristled as he stood to the full of his height, hand resting on the doorknob. 

"I'll see you soon, baby," he promised, a sad smile on his lips, "Promise." 

"See you soon, H." 

(Y/N) followed him to the garage, watching as he backed his car out and onto the street. She waved at him on the off chance he might be looking at her, until he most definitely was too far away to catch even a speck of her. Getting out of the chill, she made her way back inside and to their shared bedroom.

 It was then, with her head on his pillow, the sheets scented of him with Harry's kitten at her feet, that she let her tears fall. 

While it wasn't the waterfall she feared she was going to shed when he was still here, it was enough to heat her skin and slick down her cheeks in rivers. She missed him already, not used to being in this bed without her Harry at her side. 

Having heard her sniffling and the incessant wiping of her sleeve over her cheeks, Evie left her post at (Y/N)'s feet and found the perfect spot to curl up right on the pillow. With her pink nose, she sniffed over (Y/N)'s tear-stained cheeks, whiskers tickling her skin. 

"Hi, Evie," (Y/N) blubbered, "Do you miss your daddy already too?" 

Evie didn't do anything other than deposit a soft lick to the tip of (Y/N)'s nose. A small smile curled (Y/N)'s salted lips. 

"At least we have each other." 

Evie chirped at that.

—————

"And, what did she say after that?" 

Patting her moisturizer into her skin, (Y/N) let out a heavy sigh as she dropped her eyes to her phone screen. Illuminated in the pixels was Harry's tired face, free of any eyeliner with his hair pulled back and a headband keeping the stray strands from brushing his eyes. A white fluffy pillow was held to his chest, taking up the bottom third of the view, his chin resting on the edge as he looked at the camera. At her. 

"Nothing. She didn't say anything the rest of the shift. It was creepy." 

Harry barked out a laugh at her words. "Not even to you?" 

"No," (Y/N) affirmed, "Even when I said bye before I left, she just nodded at me." 

At this, Harry's lips thinned. "That's not very nice. 'M sorry she acted like that today, love. She didn't hurt your feelings or anything, right?" 

The shake of her head had his features loosening in relief. "No, I'm okay. I just don't really want to go in tomorrow if she's also going to be there; I'll have to hide in the autobiographies if she is." 

"That might be fun, though," Harry started, interrupting himself with a yawn, "Easy work."

"Too easy," she pointed out, wiping the remainder of the lotion on her hands, "I'll fall asleep." 

"That doesn't sound so bad," he murmured, his own eyes falling closed in a lingering blink. 

Picking up her phone, (Y/N)'s lips puffed into a pout. She had been looking forward to this evening's FaceTime, the same way she had been the last three days, but it didn't feel right to keep him on the phone when he was so clearly tired. 

"Do you want me to let you go, H? I don't want to keep you up." 

He was quick to blink his eyes open, forcing them wide and awake as he stitched his attention on her. "No, no, 's alright. I want to talk to you, baby." 

Her own lips curled into a soft grin as she started back to their bedroom. Evie was already in her new favorite spot—right where her daddy usually slept. "I want to talk to you too, but I know you had a busy day. We can talk tomorrow." 

"But I miss you today." 

When she laid her head down on her pillow, phone in hand, the view on her screen framed an illusion that they were sharing a bed. Only a pillow between them. 

"I miss you, too," she murmured ardently, "But I feel bad." 

"Don't feel bad," he insisted, denying as if there weren't bags under his eyes, "It really wasn't that busy of a day—jus' lots of talking." 

"One of your least favorite things," she pointed out as his eyes fell closed once more.

"Not when 's you." 

At that, (Y/N) paused. Her heart pattered in her chest, blood rushing through her veins with heart-shaped cells. He was too good at arguing with her like this. 

When she didn't immediately answer, she saw his eyes open. Half-lidded, they landed directly on her. He could easily tell just what kind of reaction he was drawing out of her, her face an open book just for him to read. 

"Did I win?"

A sheepish nod was his answer. 

Hunkering down into the fluff of his hotel bed, Harry let a lazy smile cover his features. If she squinted her eyes just so, the illusion worked well enough to imagine she was lying in bed next to him—a small version of him, but Harry nonetheless. 

"I'll stay with y'until y'fall asleep, love," he murmured, just voice a comforting rumble through her phone. Next time, she decided, she was going to have her headphones on, wishing to hear every note of his voice. 

"Thank you," she peeped, grateful even if a little guilty that he was going to stay awake when he was clearly so tired. 

Through his cracked eyes, she could see affection swimming through the shattered green of his iris. "Tomorrow's going to be better, love. I know it," he insisted, broken up by a short yawn, "And if 's not, 'm catching a flight home." 

A huff of laughter fell across the cover of her pillow. "Now you're going to make me hope I have a bad day." 

Harry's grin only widened. Dimples deeply dented his cheeks. "Don't say that," he pushed, though he didn't sound particularly convincing. 

Looking at him, even made of speakers and pixels, she doubted she would have an easy time falling asleep tonight. Not when she had him right here with her, as close as he could be. 

—————

Posing in the mirror, (Y/N) tugged the end of her skirt to flare it around her thighs. She snapped a photo of herself in the mirror, her phone partially covering her face in the reflection. 

Once the photo generated on her phone screen, (Y/N) relaxed from her pose and took a look at the shot. With a chunky, slouchy cream sweater covering her top—a borrowed piece, of course, from the opposite side of the closet—she had taken a leap and chosen to wear a skirt despite the chilly autumn weather outside. The night before, when she had picked out this outfit, she had been unsure, knowing she would undoubtedly be freezing on campus with only a skirt covering to the mid of her thighs. It had been Harry's idea to put on a pair of hose or stockings at the least to help cover her a little. 

(Leggings had been his first suggestion, and she had shot that down immediately).

Sending him a photo now, with a pair of barely used stockings pulled as high up her thighs as she could manage, was her test to see if she looked as silly as she felt. The skirt thankfully was covering the scalloped lace lining the top of the stockings, but she felt a bit scandalous with the pieces on her legs. 

Attaching the photo to a message, she typed out: 

     do you think this looks silly? i don't know if i still have the hose from my halloween costume but i'll look for it if you think that will work better!!

Pressing sending, she turned her attention to her hair instead of watching for Harry's response. All she had time for was to reach for a sparkly white headband before her phone buzzed against the countertop. From the preview, she saw that he had loved the image she sent before sending back a couple of texts in rapid succession. 

     Baby, you look gorgeous! 

     Is that my sweater? You should keep it.

     Don't change, I think you look perfect!

     But why can't I see your face? :( I miss you. 

A soft smile covered her features as she scrolled over the handful of messages. Taking a moment, she slid her headband over her head, pushing stray hairs out of her face. It felt a little silly, but she took another photo of herself, this one only of her smiling face before pressing send once more. 

Before she could even type out her gratitude for his previous messages, another handful were delivered.

     Baby! There you are!

     You look so pretty!

     Is that your new lipgloss? 

     I love when you push your hair back like that. Will you do that for the next time I get to take you out?

(Y/N) felt like she needed to be lying on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air while she twirled her hair when she read these over. Even from miles and miles away, she was not immune to the way he spoke to her. 

     thank you h🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 you're so sweet i miss you too!!!!

     i'm just worried that they're going to fall over my legs and then people will see the lace:( 

The delivered receipt never even popped up, Harry reading her messages as soon as they were sent. 

     I think you'll be okay, love. Your skirt is long enough that if they fall little, I don't think anyone will see. 

     If it would make you feel a little better, you can take one of my coats and use it to cover up if you feel like you need it. 

Truthfully, she was going to take one of his jackets with her today anyway, whether or not he gave her permission. 

     oooh that would be perfect!!!!! thank youuuuuuuu

     Of course. Stay warm today, darling. I'll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight. 

Glancing at the time, she was sure Harry would have just exited the tube and started making his way to the convention with the rest of the boys from the shop. She would have to keep it together and not text him every thought she had during the day. 

     talk to you later!!!! have fun love u

     Love you too, angel.

She couldn't wait to see him say those words to her in person. Only three more days. 

—————

From where it was tucked away under her thigh, (Y/N)'s phone buzzed. Today's lecture was an easy one to be distracted from, even if it probably wasn't the best idea to pay attention to her phone instead of the slides at the front of the room. 

Nonetheless, she reached for her phone under her skirt and glanced at the screen. 

Harry had sent a photo. 

A pinch appeared between her brows as she unlocked the screen, swiping on the notification. 

Their text thread was now made up of a photo of Harry in the bathroom at the conference center. It was a shot of his reflection in the mirror, where he was goofily posing to mimic the one she had sent over that morning. His tattooed hand was out at his side, pinching an invisible skirt to show off the flare.

     What do you think?  

(Y/N) had to choke back a laugh at the sight. 

     super cute h

     grab a jacket in case you get cold though

When he didn't immediately reply, (Y/N) tucked her phone away, smile now on her features as she pretended to pay attention to the lecturer before her. 

She was going to have to send that picture to Sarah and Mitch.

—————

(Y/N) checked the time, her expression falling when she saw just how little time had passed since the last time she looked. 

It had already been an hour since she said goodnight to Harry over the phone, but it was still too early to justify climbing into bed. Especially since she had taken a nap when she made it home from work. 

Over the phone, Harry had seemed so sleepy, recounting his long day touring the conference before getting a chance to finally sit down and give her a call when he made it back to his hotel room. She could have kept talking to him for hours, in love with the sound of his voice rumbling through the phone, but he seemed so exhausted. She didn't want to keep him up just because she missed him.

That left her alone, traveling back and forth to her closet. Different outfits were bundled in her arms each trip, the goal to be finding something cute to wear for her presentation on Monday. Without Harry here to soothe her for another couple of days—"two more sleeps," they had said on the phone—this was her only chance at distracting herself from the slides she already memorized. If she felt pretty, she thought she might be able to get through the whole thing a little easier. 

Playing music from the heart shaped speaker she stole from their bathroom, she bopped about the room, laying out different options on the bed. All of them were pretty cute, she thought, just... not right? She wasn't sure why, but none of them seemed to fit the vision she had for herself on Monday. 

Would the pink skirt come across as childish? The sweater with bows laced down the sleeves as unprofessional? But the fitted, dark green sweater she'd pulled didn't really feel like herself—at least not the version of herself that she would feel the most comfortable being when she was already going to be at her most uncomfortable in front of her whole class. 

Though it sounded like a lot of work, she figured she would only know for sure if she tried on each prospect. Even if the idea sounded even less fun when she remembered Harry wasn't going to be there to give his candy-coated opinion and tell her every sweet nothing he could think of. 

At the very least, it would fill her time and check off a task she knew she wasn't going to want to do when Harry returned home on Sunday. 

—————

Falling back onto their bed, (Y/N) didn't feel any more accomplished even with the skirt flaring around her body. She still needed to change out of this particular outfit—the one with the bow sweater layered over a silky blush dress and the same stockings that had treated her well earlier in the week—but she was too tired to do so at the moment. Instead, she pulled open her camera roll and looked at the trio of photos she took in her options. 

Even if she knew she wasn't going to gain any kind of response until the morning, (Y/N) still attached all three to a new message to Harry. He could be the deciding vote (even if she really just wanted him to pick the outfit she currently had on). 

Despite knowing he was asleep—the time being now a full hour and a half since saying goodnight—she still lagged for a moment, waiting for the receipt to change to read. Unsurprised, she locked her phone after a minute when her message stayed on delivered. 

(Y/N) pushed her phone to the side as she forced herself up from where she laid on her bed, a heavy sigh leaving her chest. She needed to get into her pajamas, then wash her face, perform her skincare routine, get her hair in shape for bedtime, and then probably feed Evie again and have a snack herself, and, if he wasn't too tired, she could start the new book she dow—

Her phone buzzed. 

Pausing where she stood, feet bare other than the stockings wrapped around her legs. She knew it was probably Sarah, confirming their plans for the following way. But, (Y/N) still, just a little, hoped it might be Harry. 

Without letting herself get too excited, she reached for her phone amongst the tufts of her comforter. 

A single notification sat at the bottom of her lock screen. 

     Harry🖤

She didn't even attempt to hold back the smile that bloomed over her features. He was supposed to be asleep. 

Sliding the notification open, their text thread opened up. Her photos took up the majority of the screen though her eyes went right to his message. 

     Are you still in the last outfit?

A little less... affectionate than she had been hoping for, but a response nonetheless. 

     i am why ! 

     i thought you were asleep 

Another message near instantly came through. 

     I'm having a harder time falling asleep than I thought. 

     I really like that last one, love. Are you wearing those stockings? 

She frowned at his explanation. She didn't like the idea of Harry tossing and turning all by himself in a hotel room. Maybe, she'd try to help him get to sleep. 

     yessss but i did find those ones that i got for my halloween costume so i can wear those instead if you think that's better for the presentation 

     Can I see? 

(Y/N)'s frown deepened. 

     the other ones???? 

It wasn't a fun set to pull up her legs since the material was so fragile and thighs when they made it up to her thighs, but she would manage if wanted to see—

     No, the stockings. 

     You're still wearing them right, love? 

Her cheeks warmed. Maybe it was the way she was reading it in her head—with the deep rumble of his voice, drawling and heavy with his eyes on her—but she swore there was a little more to this than attempting to help her pick an outfit. 

In lieu of typing out a response, she turned her camera on. She debated finding her way back to bed or standing before the mirror once more. Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, she figured the mirror was the safer choice. At least this way she could offer a full view. 

Bunching the skirt of the dress in her hand, she snapped a photo of the stockings tight around her legs, the white lace showing. There was no pattern in the netting, only the sheer white mesh, the material offering a satin finish over her skin. Nothing special, really. 

The photo sent, never reaching delivered status before being read by Harry. Though no immediate response was sent back.

(Y/N) waited as moments passed before a bubble filled with three little dots popped up in the corner of the screen. 

     You look so pretty, love. I wish I was there with you. 

     Do you have anything else pretty on under your outfit?

She blinked at the message. Okay, so she hadn't been reading him wrong, even if she was a little surprised at how quickly he was leading her down this path. 

Her fingers hovered over the offered keyboard. Truthfully, she wasn't wearing a pretty matching set the way she was sure Harry was picturing. Underneath the layers of her sweater and dress, was a comfortable, unlined pink bra and a set of cotton panties in baby blue. 

Just as she went to type an answer, she blanched, eyes widening as an alternative idea popped through her head. 

Did he want a... picture of her?

The idea had her stomach churning. 

Though it wasn't anything Harry hadn't seen before, photos seemed so much more scandalous. She didn't doubt that it had much to do with conversations she overhead her parents having, the kind when a celebrity or a girl in their community had private photos leaked and spread around. It was always the woman in the photo's fault—if she hadn't wanted those out there, she shouldn't have taken them. She shouldn't have been acting like a whore. 

She must have taken longer than she realized when another message came through.

     Baby? 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) typed out a noncommittal answer. 

    maybeeeeeeee

    why?

Harry would be disappointed to see her chewing on the pillow of her lip, but she couldn't help herself. Was it stupid to be nervous? Especially when the question itself hadn't even been asked—and even if it had, Harry was the love of her life. She lived with him, and was stressing over the idea of sending him a photo of her body? It didn't make much sense. 

     I miss you baby. Do you think I could see you? 

If there was any room for speculation over how much he missed her and in what way, it was all put to rest when another photo came through. 

It was a view of the small of Harry's stomach, angled as if he were posing the camera from the height of his chest. His hand, tattooed and familiar, grasping at a bulge through the worn black material of his sweats. 

(Y/N) blinked, breath stuck in her chest. 

No wonder he couldn't fall asleep. 

Was she supposed to send her own photo now? To be fair, it was quite the sight—one she had missed since he left—to see the expanse of his hand over his crotch, but she wasn't sure she was far enough gone to completely disregard the feeling in her stomach. 

But she couldn't leave him hanging. She knew she would be sick to her stomach if she sent something to Harry and he didn't immediately respond in kind. 

She didn't think before she reacted to the photo with a heart, typing out: 

     i miss you too!!!!! is this why you couldn't sleep 

It took all of one second, realizing what she had sent his way, to make her cringe. She was sure this wasn't the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he sent an explicit image. 

She hoped, if anything, he thought it was endearing. 

     A little bit. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since our phone call. I don't know if I can wait two more sleeps to see you again. 

Her heart raced behind her ribs. While it wasn't something she really indulged in, there was more than once this week that she had briefly wondered if she had the willpower to wait for him to return home before spreading her legs. But, as it usually did, the idea paled in comparison to what he was able to offer her. If she had to wait a couple of days, then so be it, she had decided. 

That decision didn't feel so concrete now, not with the view on her phone. 

It's not like Harry would spread her photos around. She knew that. And this would be far from the most scandalous thing she'd ever partaken in with Harry's guidance. 

And, gosh, did she miss him.

Between her legs, a heat gathered. What she wouldn't give to be on her knees before him, her hand replacing his. To hear the rumbling of his moans, hearing him call her his pretty, good girl. So gorgeous he can barely handle himself. That he could spend hours—days, even—in bed with her. All he wanted was to take care of her, starting with the ache between her legs. 

She clutched her phone tightly. 

It wouldn't be so bad, she thought. It was just a photo. If it really bothered her, Harry would delete every photo and every mention of the photos. Besides, she was an adult. 

She had moved into a home with her long-term boyfriend—who she had a sneaking suspicion was going to propose in the near future—, took care of her own needs, and would soon be facing her college graduation. She could send photos of herself if she wanted to. 

(Even if she still felt a little sick to her stomach. Aside from being unsure of sending them, she didn't even know how to take them). 

     Are you still there, baby? I didn't mean to scare you off. 

A small smile touched the corners of her mouth. She could hear those words in his voice. He was always so worried about being too much, asking for too much, when it came to her. Because he was Harry, and he loved her. 

He loved her so much, and she didn't doubt that she could trust him even more.

     yeah hold on im taking a picture !!

That was all she said before pulling up her camera. 

Making quick work of her clothing, the sweater and dress became nothing more than a puddle on the floor. She hesitated at the hem of the stockings. It felt a bit silly to keep them on, given the fact that her underwear was far from pretty and put together. But, Harry did seem to like them. 

Before she could think any more about it, she took her phone and stepped in front of the mirror. 

There was a feeling in her chest, similar to that of when he took her to the beach for the first time in Barcelona, seeing herself in so little clothing. Very different to when she would disrobe in front of him, knowing that he was only going to gaze upon her in awe. She wouldn't be able to gauge his reaction from the other end of a phone. 

If not for the fact that she had already said she was taking a photo of herself, (Y/N) may have backed down. Instead, she committed to posing before the mirror. 

She stood with her thighs together, the gusset of her panties tucked between her legs. The stockings stood out against her skin, shimmering in the low light of the lit lamps of their bedroom. Her breasts were cradled in the light pink material of her bra, unlined with the peak of her nipples pushing through. The thin line of wire under her bust held up the swells. 

Angling her camera to conceal her face once more, (Y/N) held her breath as she pressed the circle at the bottom of her screen. She didn't allow herself more than a glance at the photo before pressing send. It didn't look too bad when she peeked, but she wasn't in the mood to judge her body any more than she already was beginning to judge herself for taking the photo at all. 

She couldn't wait to see what his reaction would be. Instead, she locked her phone and dove for the safety of her bed, wrapping the throw lined at the bottom of the mattress around her nearly-bare body. 

(Y/N) knew she wasn't a bad person. Right? She had only sent a photo to her boyfriend. That was all. Was it the best photo? Maybe not, but it was of her. That should be enough for him, right? 

Harry always told her just how perfect she was, how much he loved her body. Even after she had more than one bowl of soup before he took her to bed, he never complained over her bloated stomach or if she hadn't had time to shave herself before spreading her legs. 

But, photos could be so unforgiving. She wouldn't blame him if he thought differently of her. Not to mention, she really gave in pretty quickly to this whole photo thing, didn't she? 

What if he hadn't even wanted a photo of her, and she sent one anyway? She should have know—

     Fuck

     Angel are you joking 

     This isn't fair. You cant look so pretty without me 

     Did you keep those stockings on for m e?

Something bloomed in the middle of her chest. It was a bit silly, but she knew Harry. He didn't text without punctuation and checking his spelling. Seeing the lack of periods and a disjointed word at the end, she liked to think that her photo was having a more profound effect on him than she could have hoped. 

The lighting hadn't been as bad as she thought, then. 

Confidence struck her, urging her to message him back before it had a chance to fizzle out. 

     yes daddy

She wished she could be there to see his reaction to the message. She missed seeing that flash in his eyes, his pupils dilating as he gazed at her. In her head, he would have reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her flushed to him. Hips together, where the thick bulge of his cock would press right against her core. 

Was it crazy to catch a flight? She could probably make it there soon, and then they could go home together on Sunday. 

That way she could at least see her daddy be—

     You're such a good girl for your daddy angel

     Fucking perfect you're gonna make me cum just from your picture 

     Can I show you?

The final message had her heart slowing. The heat that had fallen to the backburner during her overthinking had returned tenfold. The effect she had on him would never not amaze her. 

She definitely wanted to see. 

     please

(Y/N) waited, sitting in the message thread. Her imagination ran wild, filling in the gaps his absence left behind. 

She wondered how long he would be home before she would drip to her knees. Would she let him put his things away, or would he feel the same need she did and take care of her as soon as he made it through the door? Would he press her against the door, his hair still pulled back from his flight, minty gum being ground between his molars? Or would he give her the courtesy of placing her on the kitchen counter, shorts pulled to her ankles? 

Could she get him to play with her, chasing her into their bedroom before she tugged him down atop her? So she could lay just like she was now, on her back with her head cushioned by a pillow smelling of him. In her head, she would have something much prettier on, but if he wanted her pretty socks on, she could do that for him. She could spread her legs for him, let him fit himself between her thighs. 

Her breathing was labored as she took the hand bundled between the sheets to the small of her stomach. Her phone was still hovering above her face, waiting for the response she needed from Harry, but now her attention was beginning to split in half. 

Now, she noticed the goosebumps on her skin, rising in the wake of her own touch. The feeling brought her back to their first Valentine's Day. When he had sat behind her, their hands looped together between her legs, showing her exactly how to touch herself, to emulate the way he took care of her. Her fingertips had only touched the first thread of the elastic around her waist when a message came through.

Or a video did. 

There was a part of her that was worried that she didn't even hesitate before pressing play. The other part of her was too worked up to care. 

The video took over the full screen in an instant, the sound turned up just enough to hear soft noises. (Y/N) hurried to turn the volume up a few notches when she realized what she was looking at. 

With his sweats pushed down to his thighs, showing off the ink needled into nearly every inch of his skin, Harry had his hand fisted around his cock. Only lamps were turned on in his hotel room, leaving the space in buttery, limited light. Shadows were elongated, everything just a touch darker than she was sure it was in real. Including the black nail polish that glimmered on his fingers as he stroked his hand over his cock. 

The tip was red and ruddy, blurting with precum. He was much more worked up than she was expecting, the long night having taken a toll on him. Slick, soft pats of his hand hitting his base sounded through her phone, in conjunction with the heady pants behind the camera. 

Her mouth ran dry when she heard her name being moaned. She had missed that voice so much. 

All over a single photo she had sent. 

A week apart was much too long, it appeared. 

Abruptly, the video stopped. She didn't think before she tapped the screen again, urging the clip to start over. 

Watching the video once more, (Y/N) allowed her other hand to drift lower. Breaching the waist of her underwear, she pictured his hand as her eyes fluttered to a close. It was jarring, the first touch to her clit. The last time she had done this for herself, had been under Harry's supervision that day. Never had she been alone before. 

Though, she figured she wasn't really alone, not when she heard the grumbling tone of his moans filtering through the room. The call of her name as he jerked his fist over his length. 

With her mind becoming a bit more muddy with every breath, she attempted to remember just how Harry worked her up and helped her through the shaky breaths entering her lungs. 

He always started at her clit, working the bud in tight circles, borrowing wetness from her slit to keep her movements slick. Her back arched as she slid her finger lower, parting her folds to where her pulsing opening beckoned to someone miles away. 

Her lungs shuddered, breathing uneven as she attempted to focus. Pulling her eyes open (she hadn't even known they closed, really) she directed the small portion of her attention she had to spare towards her phone. The video had ended, the screen moments away from locking before she tapped her thumb. 

Swiping to their messages, she didn't think. 

     harry oh my god 

     i miss you so much daddy I wish you were here this doesn't feel the same without you 

     i need you 

A trio of dots came up on the corner of her screen.

     Can I see you, baby? I miss you too so much. 

     When I get home I m going to take such good care f you I promise 

     Be good and show daddy what he's doing to you love I need it 

How he knew so clearly what to say to her, what would clear through the much and spear into her chest, she was never going to be sure, but she would always be grateful.

His request for another photo was a steady distraction. It allowed her to keep some of her head on straight instead of losing every bit of her to the pleasure she was eliciting between her legs. Taking a hurried moment, she shimmied her panties down her stockinged legs until the garment was hanging off of an ankle. Spreading her legs wide, her phone angled just so, the camera caught a view of the softness of her stomach to the middle of her thighs. Just the top scalloping of the lace was caught from the stockings.

Her hand, tucked just so, worked between her legs. She wasn't sure if the slick sounds permeating the room was going to be picked up, but she hoped so. She hoped Harry would be able to hear what such a simple video had done to her. That she had viewed it twice, her underwear now sporting a damp spot with that same wetness being pulled up to coat her clit. That she really did listen when he attempted to show her how to take care of herself, circling her fingers around the bud with her pulsing opening waiting for him the second he made it back home to her. 

Oh god, when he got home. 

She didn't doubt that he was going to take perfect care of her. Throwing her head back, (Y/N) lost sight of the screen of her phone, but a different view took over her head. 

This one had Harry sitting before her, letting her nestle between his thighs as he stroked his cock in front of her face. She could see the pearls of precum beading down his length to be swept away in his stroking fist. Glistening and throbbing. She would open her mouth and let him do anything he wanted—

"Daddy," she breathed, blinking back to the world when she realized she still had a video she was to be directing. 

Keeping her hand between her legs, she shut off the camera. She only made a couple of presses before the video was off to Harry, though she kept working her fingers over her clit, dipping low in teasing touches before returning to the bud. As much as she would have liked to feel something sinking deep inside her, the idea didn't sound as appealing when she knew her own fingers weren't going to cut it. She would save that bit for Harry; toying with her clit was doing a well enough job, and she didn't have the attention to take care of two different paces, if she was honest. 

A handful of responses were delivered to her at a rapid-fire pace. 

     can I save that video baby

     you look so pretty with your hand between your legs 

     Doing what daddy taught you rigt 

     Im so fuckign proud of you I miss you so much angel 

     can I see you cum please 

     for me 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) barely was able to keep her hand from shaking as she typed.

     I want to see you:( 

It was at the same moment that her phone buzzed. A FaceTime call. From Harry.

"Harry?" she greeted, breathless when she answered. She didn't need to glance at the tiny box of herself to know that her eyes were lidded and wild, mouth parted and swollen. 

"Oh fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, the view of his face obstructed from the messy state of his hair. His cheeks blazed with warmth, baby hair clinging to his temples. "You're close, love? Can y'cum with me?" 

(Y/N) practically melted into the mattress at the sound of his voice. She missed this so much—missed him more than she even realized until then. Her clit pulsed under her finger. 

"Uh-huh," she nodded, debating turning her camera around before blinking at her phone screen. "Do you... I can show you." 

A string of curses left his raspberry mouth. "Let me see, baby. Let daddy see." 

She didn't have to give another thought before she was punching the button, reversing the camera to show a view of her spread legs. Her hand was clearly working over her pussy, the slick sounds not matching the circling of her fingers. 

"That feel good, angel?" Harry panted, his eyes almost falling closed before he suddenly remembered what was in front of him. A quiet whimper broke from her throat. "I know, baby. 'M sure it feels so good, huh?" 

For the hundredth time in the last handful of minutes, she wished Harry was with her. She wished he was hovering above her, that she could see the look on her face and the need flashing through her eyes. That he would know what she needed just from looking at her, but she supposed she could handle that part for the night. Maybe. 

"R-Really good, daddy," she let out, breathless, "I-I want to see you—I'm—" 

Before her eyes, she saw the screen flip. Where his flustered face had been was now a view of his cock. Much like his video, his fist was working relentlessly over his length, though he decidedly looked much more desperate. He was gleaming in the sheen of his precum, his thumb swiping through the near constant river dripping down. From the way he was breathing alone, she was sure he was close. 

"Harry—oh my god," she murmured, barely finding her voice, "Wh-When you get home, will you—Can you let me do that for you, please? I want you so bad." 

It was a bold request, so bluntly spoken in her book. Though it only seemed to spur Harry on. His cock jumped in his hand, another stream sliding down his cock. 

"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he groaned, the camera going shaking like his breathing, "I wanna see you first—can y'do that for me? Are y'close?" 

Shifting her hold on her phone, she moved her camera to show the pace of her fingers between her legs, working over her clit. She moved her legs wider apart, her movements growing messy and clumsy. Knowing that he was watching her was enough to have her arching her back. 

"So close, so close," she muttered, her voice thick in her throat. 

"Show me." The command of his voice was so enticing. "I wanna see how much y'miss me, love." 

When he put it that way, she couldn't hold off any more. She wanted him to know just how badly she missed him, how much she wished she was at his side, hands on each other. Shuttering her eyes, she hoped she kept her hand steady as she felt herself unravel. Though it didn't compare to the fire Harry lit in the pit of her stomach, the flames lighting under her skin was enough to simmer her blood and warm her body.

Whimpering calls of his name—both of them—fell from her lips. Her breasts heaved under her bra, heart pounding just as hard. Her fingers lagged around her clit as her hips bucked upwards into her hand. Her folds grew impossibly slick, her insides clenching around nothing. Especially when she heard the responding moans from Harry on the other end.

It took effort to peel her eyes open, to look at her own show playing on her phone screen. 

Harry was cumming, his hand still tight around his cock. Ropes of his release spurted from his tip, dripping down to his stroking hand. Deep, heavy moans fell from his lips. (Y/N) could only imagine the way he looked with his lips parted, eyes shuttered closed with his hair a messy halo around his head. How it would feel to have her head against his chest, feeling the vibrations of his voice under her ear. 

Aftershocks wracked through her body as she watched him. More and more clarity streaked through her head as she watched his own comedown begin. Through the camera, she could see the way his strokes began to slow, hand shaking as he loosened his grip. Small dribbles were all that remained of his release before he hissed, removing his hand completely. 

(She wasn't going to say it now, but she felt a bit... sad to know that the slick release covering his hand was going to be washed away. She would have cleaned him up better). 

Her own hand retreated from between her legs. Her legs moved to close around the phantom touch that had her insides pulsing. She wondered if Harry was able to see the glistening slick over her fingers before she turned the camera back around. 

"Harry?" 

It took a bit, a lingering pause with heavy breaths before Harry followed suit. 

"Sorry," he murmured, his face flushed as he blinked his eyes open, "Are y'alright, love?" 

Nestled amongst the sheets that still smelled of him, (Y/N) felt a dazed smile touch her lips. 

"I'm good. Are you okay?"

"'M alright," he confirmed, a subtle grin matching hers. "That was a lot, huh?"

She suddenly felt shy. As if this was the most scandalous thing they've ever gotten up to. 

"A little. But, good, right?" 

"Good. Really good," he cemented, a light in his eyes, "Not what I thought we were going to do tonight, but worth it." 

(Y/N) hummed. "I just wanted help picking out an outfit." 

A loud laugh bubbled from her love. "Well, at least y'know my favorite." 

Rolling her sheets, legs still a bit sticky, (Y/N) could only mimic the smile on his face. "I guess so. But I don't know if I can wear that if that's how it made you feel." 

"Maybe not," he prattled, "Might have to be something just for the two of us." 

"Maybe," she sighed. 

On her phone, she watched Harry's eyes grow heavy. Once glance at the time showed her how late the night had grown while they were busy. All after the long day Harry had gone through. 

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?" she asked, her voice decidedly quieter and more even than just moments before. 

"Probably," Harry hummed, a lazy smile pulling his lips, "Are you tired?" 

"A little. I still need to clean up, but you know me." 

"Don't I ever," he teased, affection swimming in his gaze, "Only two more sleeps, sweetheart." 

"Two more sleeps," she repeated, a sigh fanning from her lips, "I'll talk to you in the morning?" 

"I'll text y'when I wake up," he assured, exhaustion lessening only to make room for the fondness infiltrating his features. "Goodnight, baby. Love you." 

"Love you, too, H." 

The last thing she saw was the loving smile on his face before the screen cut back to their messages. It made her skin warm seeing the last few texts they shared. Everything always seemed a little bit silly once that cold clarity hit. 

Not that she would change a single moment, of course. Though she didn't see the photo thing becoming the norm between them, it definitely didn't seem so scary with Harry on the other end. 

It felt... nice, even. Even without her right in front of him, Harry still was the most loving, most affectionate. He was miles and miles away and she was still the most appealing thing to him. After a long day, she was the one he wanted to see.

Biting her bottom lip between her teeth, she pulled up the keyboard one more time. 

     you can save that video btw !

—————

(Y/N) practically bounced in her spot, eyes fixed to the front door and Evie in her arms. 

He should be back at any second. 

Like, now.

... Or, now.

Her lips thinned. Evie wriggled in her arms. 

Maybe, now?

A chirping meow left Evie. 

"I know, I know," (Y/N) murmured, "As soon as daddy's home, I'll feed you, okay? He should be home in just a second, Ev—"

The sound of the doorknob turning plucked her attention. Even Evie turned to see what was going on. Finagling out of her arms, the kitten rushed towards the door, large eyes directed upwards, waiting for her dad to appear. 

Pushing open the door, Harry was revealed, in a comfortable all black outfit with the hood of his sweatshirt draped over his head. Just as she pictured, he still had gum being chewed between his molars. His eyes were tired, though there was a spark that filtered through his gaze when he saw the tiny creature at his feet. 

"Hi, Ev," he murmured, duffle bag dangling over his shoulder as he bent down to pet between her ears. "I missed you so much, little." 

(Y/N) smiled at the affectionate tone of his voice, her hands clasped into a bundle under her chin. 

Harry lingered with his cat for only a second before he peeked up at her. Right where she was perched on the arm of the couch, a silky short dress clinging to her form. Stockings on her legs. 

"Hey, you."

Launching herself at him, (Y/N) flung her arms around his neck. Harry didn't hesitate before he reciprocated her hold, caging her to his c test with the bar of his arms around her back. Lifting her feet off the floor, he tucked his head into her neck, twirling her with the tips of her toes grazing the floor. 

"I missed you," she murmured, taking in the perfume of his scent. The sheets were beginning to dull, and while she had the full-size of his cologne in their bathroom, it didn't have the same notes that his skin, his laundry, his hair had. It didn't smell the same without the warmth of him underneath.

Harry pulsed his arms around her, the muscles blocking out of his body keeping her steady in his hold. "I missed you too, baby. Next time, you're coming with me, okay? We'll figure something out for Evie and your classes." 

"Okay," she blindly agreed, nodding her head in his neck, "I'm coming with you." 

Taking in a deep breath, Harry shifted his hold on her until he had an arm barred around the back of her thighs. It took a tap of his fingers on the plush skin, the strip between the hem of her nightdress and the lace of her stockings, to get to wrap her legs around his hips. Armed with both his duffle and his love, he started towards their bedroom. 

"Wanna shower with me first, or should we do that after?" 

"After?" 

She felt the breath of his laughter fan across her bare shoulder. 

"After I keep my promise. Y'didn't wear all this for nothing, right?"

(Y/N) only locked her ankles around his back. 

"Shower after." 

His hand shifted, giving her backside a small swat. 

"That's what I thought." 

—————

this has been a long time coming so I hope everyone likes how it turned out! thank you sooooo much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and pleaseee if you have anything fun like an idea or request pleaseee send it in!

[sincerelyrki]

forbidden attraction

getting cheated on was never easy, but you wanna know what is? revenge. and as the infamous song says, if he’s cheating i’m doing him worse (aka fucking his four best friends).

pairing : enha!hyungline x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. double pen. oral (m+?f?). cum eating/sharing. unsafe sex. spanking. handjob. profanity. name calling. degration. profanity. a bit of begging. fivesome. no cheating bcuz i don’t fw that. jakehoon kissing once. not shipping the members!! it’s just for the plot. 18+.

wc : 3.8

a/n : a birthday gift to myself and everyone else born on september 2🫡 bonnes fêtes pote <3

tl : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Jay was appalled.

There were many things in life that confused him, but this? He’s never been as speechless as he was right now.

Whether that stemmed from his confusion on why one of his best friends would cheat on a girl like you or from your warm mouth wrapped oh so fucking deliciously around his cock- he wasn’t too sure.

But as much as he was appalled, he was thankful. so fucking thankful. it wasn’t every day that his best friend's ex-girlfriend came knocking on his door with nothing more than a poor excuse of a t-shirt and her slutty little miniskirts, not that he was complaining, but it was all too conflicting. 

Was he supposed to call Sungchan and tell him that his hot ex was at his door? He couldn’t imagine that going down too well with him, not after the next few words came spilling from your pretty lips- god your lips.

He almost wishes you never came over because he wasn’t sure how he could ever go back to being strangers with you, not after seeing the way you took him so perfectly down your throat. 

But as all good things come, they go. And it went with another knock on his door, one that barely sounded out before it was being swung open. 

Jay might’ve been the most unlucky lucky man to walk this earth. Lucky because he had you on your knees for him- unlucky because of the three other men who seemingly showed up out of nowhere.

“You started without us? I should’ve known a needy fucking slut wouldn’t have waited.” And by the faux pouting voice of Heeseung, Jay would’ve kept that narrative. It seemed that everyone except for himself had come to hear about this… event? Yep, he was definitely confused.

But as said before, he was so fucking thankful. But if he had known that opening the door to an enigmatic person like yourself, would he have left it closed?

No, no he wouldn’t have. Because if he had then 

he’d miss the singular hottest thing he’d ever seen- who knew watching his best friends fuck the girl he’s wanted for what feels like forever, could feel so fucking good? 

That’s definitely the one reason why he’s in this position right now, he’d refuse any other answer anyways. 

Jay’s head fell back with an abrupt moan, his head snapping back way too fast to be classified as safe. His legs shook from beneath you from the immense pleasure shooting across his entire midsection, his noises only grew louder the deeper he reached.

Your nails were scratching red lines across the man beneath you but through the combination of the hands grabbing against you and the cock you were being lowered on, you barely noticed. 

“Almost there, you’re doing so good.” Heeseung’s voice was no louder than a whisper when he breathed heavily in your ear, the actions going on under him getting to his head. His eyes were glued to the way you sucked his friend in perfectly, your walls moulding to the twitching man beneath you.

Heeseung was almost envious of Jay, he’d do anything to feel your tight cunt wrap around him instead. But he knew that his time would come- and that it’d feel almost a hundred times better. And so he continued to shush you from over your shoulder as his lips pressed small pecks against your open neck, his hands wrapped around your waist as he moved you against Jay. 

You fell apart in the two men’s embrace, the world fading into a haze as you fell into the feeling of getting used. It’s barely been a minute since you’ve been completely lowered on Jay yet you already felt completely fucked out.

Your sensitivity came in bursts of loud gaps and quiet moans, your legs unable to clench due to the tight holds of Jake and Sunghoon, one on each side. 

“Please, i-i need more…” Even in your current situation you couldn’t help but beg for more than you could take, the desire to be completely and utterly claimed by the four men surrounding you overtaking any conscious part of your brain. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you’ve had them all, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

“You need more or-?” Heeseung paused mid to push his teeth into your neck, his teeth pressing against you for a few seconds before pulling back. He glanced at the red spot once before he began lapping at it, his warm tongue providing comfort to the sore area. 

After soothing the spot he moved more confidently, his tongue pressing flat against your collarbone before licking a stripe up to your jawline. One of his hands left your waist to pull at your hair, the loudest gasp yet leaving your lips, “or do you just want it?” He pressed a final kiss against your ear before letting go of your hair. 

“Need, I need it.” Sunghoon looked up at Heeseung’s expected gaze before moving his eyes toward your face. His cock twitched in its confinements at your expression, his eyes following your tears streaks all the way down until your open mouth. 

He knew what Heeseung was asking of him, but he wanted something else. As much as he’d love to feel your lips wrapped around his dick, he’s been eyeing something much more… tasty. 

It came to a shock to both you and Jay once you felt something warm kitten licking at your entrance- well the spot where the two of you were connected in precisely. 

Both your eyes snapped down at the sudden sensation, it was safe to say that the sight didn’t disappoint. Sunghoon wasn’t shy in the way he was so evidently open to making the both of you feel as much pleasure as possible, his tongue pressing against the two of you as Jay slid out, Sunghoon’s tongue aiding him in pushing further in. 

It was nasty, but it tasted way too good for any of you to give a shit. Neither Sunghoon nor Jay seemed to care about the way Sunghoon’s tongue continuously licked along Jay’s cock. 

“I always knew that fucking bitch was fruity.” Jake tried to tease Sunghoon but not even he could stop his eyes from following the movements of Sunghoon’s ministrations. 

As much as the other two boys enjoyed watching the three of you, they were growing extremely impatient. 

Heeseung, being done with waiting around for his turn decided to force himself into the equation with an offer he knew you wouldn’t be able to refuse, “You wanna know what would feel even better?” 

He got his answer through the barely noticeable stutter of your growing noises. A smirk pushing its way onto his lips on its own accord. “Having both me and Jay inside of you, i’d make you feel so good.” 

He could feel your torso tense under his hold and so continued talking into your ears, his voice as compelling as a story told siren, “You wanted more, didn’t you? You’d feel so full, i’d be giving you everything you’ve ever longed for.” He made his point by pushing his palm against your lower stomach- right against the spot Jay’s cock was hitting inside of you. 

“He’s so big, right?” He cooed at you when you nodded your head, big tears staining your cheeks as his words fell through one ear and down to your needy cunt. “He’d feel so good against me, we’d stretch you out so good, make you feel things you’ve only ever dreamed about.”

Jay, having felt your tortuous clenches, was quick to get drawn to his high, his hips snapping up with a new vigor as he tried to chase his heavy weighted release. 

Heeseung noticed before you did, of course he did. He’d been watching the man since he’d first come through the door, it was only natural for his eyes to be watching his every reaction. 

“Or maybe we can have Jakey with me instead, hm? He’s not as long as Jay but he’s definitely thicker.” Liquid honey was practically pouring from Heeseung’s lips, the gold flowing across your skin until it reached its searing end along Jay’s thighs. 

“M’gonna fill you up, give you everything I have-” Jay was too far gone to realize what he was saying, but he meant every word. His hands replaced Heeseung’s after pushing the older man’s off, his hips pushing off the bed as he snapped into you as hard as possible. 

His head was empty but the thoughts still repeated out through his mouth, your seductive voice was the last thing he needed before completely filling you- “do it, fill me up.” 

Seeing Jay break beneath you was nothing compared to the feeling of him coming undone inside of you, and at this moment you couldn’t help but thank your ex. 

It was like a light switched inside of you, a newfound desire filling your entire body after seeing the way Sunghoon kept licking at the spot connecting you to Jay. His mouth was completely soaked with a combination of everything, the white ring along the bottom of Jays cock disappearing just as fast as it appeared. 

You grabbed Sunghoon’s hair, a shocked whimper leaving his mouth as you pulled him away. He was looking up at you so beautifully, the stars in his eyes and the wetness along his chin… he was irritably irresistible. and by the silence filling the room it seemed that everyone agreed.

“You just can’t get enough can you?” You used your own hand to nod his head at your question, his hair tight in your hold as you forced him to move at your will. You cooed at him before giving a small pout in response, your eyes still staring at his coated face. “You couldn’t help yourself, you just had to taste him didn’t you?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer, his mind too cloudy to comprehend anything being said. His eyes were barely open as he stared at you, his entire weight being pushed against Jay’s abdomen. 

His hands were pressed against the back of your thighs with his chest resting against jay, he was completely powerless. “How did he taste?” You knew he wouldn’t answer but you still asked with a slight hope that he’d give in, but as expected- he stayed silent. 

You repeat yourself louder this time as you tug his hair harsher against his scalp, he still remained silent as he allowed his head to move under your control. 

“He’s so dumb, he can’t even speak for himself.” Heeseung laughed against your neck before pushing his lips against your collarbones, yet his eyes remained on Sunghoon. 

You hummed in agreement before turning to Jake, your heart softening at the neglected boy across from you. “Poor puppy hasn’t gotten any attention yet here you are, a needy baby who can’t do anything but sit there in silence.” 

Jake visablly lightened up at your attention, his teeth slightly poking out from beneath his lips before he pushed closer to you, his head lightly knocking against yours whilst he nuzzled against you. 

You were still sitting on top of Jay’s sensitive cock, his cum still lodged in you. “Bad boy’s don’t deserve what I was going to give you.” Sunghoon finally came to his senses as he looked up at you in confusion, your eyes meeting for the second time tonight. 

“You were the closest to Sungchan, how could you do this to him?” You knew you weren’t the one to be talking, but you had more of a reason to betray him compared to Sunghoon. You got cheated on, but Sunghoon? You couldn’t think of a singular reason why he would turn his back on his childhood best friend just for a singular fuck.

“Why?” Sunghoon shook his head once before trying to respond but no words left his mouth, “what? Is your mouth suddenly dry?” Sunghoon shook his head in denial before snapping his lips closed and looking away once again, a heavy cloud of guilt replacing the dumb look in his eyes. 

“As I said earlier, bad boys don’t deserve it.” No one knew what the “it” that you were referring to was, not until you slowly pulled Jay from out of you, your fingers pushing against yourself as you tried to keep his release in. 

Still staring at Sunghoon’s avoidant figure you grabbed Jake’s wrist, your fingers wrapping around his hand as you pulled it down to replace your own. But before he could put his hand in place of yours, you stuck two fingers inside and scooped out as much of Jay’s cum you could while keeping some in. 

You used your hold on his hair to turn his head towards your hand, his mouth dropping open at the strings of cum connecting your two fingers. You pushed your fingers together before slowly pulling them apart knowing that all the boys were watching. 

“To think that this couldn’t been you…” Knowing that Sunghoon’s gaze was now following your fingers you rose it up to Jake’s mouth, your fingertips rubbing a bit of cum across his bottom lip before you pushed in between them. 

All eyes, including your own, watched as Jake took your fingers the way you’d taken Jay’s dick hours ago. 

Jake’s tongue swirled around your two digits, his eyes closing in focus as he attempted to clean your fingers the best he could. You could feel the vibrations of his mouth against your fingers, the feeling causing your need to grow more intense.

Before anyone could react, Sunghoon pulled your fingers from his mouth and replaced them with his mouth. His lips pushed against Jake’s with an animalistic desire, his tongue pushing between the other boys lips before Jake could even process the sudden kiss. 

Sunghoon ignored the sharp tingles from his scalp as he continued licking into the other boy's mouth, scooping the cum into his own mouth. It was supposed to be his anyways, so there was no reason why he wouldn’t be able to have it. It didn’t matter that he was eating it from another person's lips, maybe it tasted even better that way.

After sharing the cum between themselves Sunghoon pulled back with a devious smile, all guilt erased from his mind. Jake’s mind was still reeling from what had happened, his mind replaying the sight of their shared spit connecting their departing lips. 

“Sungchan would’ve have let you do this.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before kissing you, the taste of the other boys heavy on his tongue as it pushed it against yours. The taste was almost indescribable, hints of bitterness with the perfect amount of sweetness from whatever Sunghoon ate before coming to Jay’s. 

Sunghoon pulled off of you for a minute before using his hand to pull yours from his hair, his fingers entwining with yours as he messily stood up. His pants were off within seconds, and his back was against the bed just as fast.

He pulled you down on top of him, his hand letting go of yours to grip as your ass to help you grind down against him. His mouth met yours once again, his nose bumping against yours with each turn of his head, he was all too addicting. 

Heeseung tsked from above you, his disapproving gaze heavy on Sunghoon’s messy side profile. “You heard what she said earlier, you don’t deserve it.” Heeseung pulled you off of Sunghoon and back into his arms, your legs moving down to rest on top of Sunghoon’s flat knees. 

“Move.” Sunghoon’s pleading look barely worked on you, his expression changing into an annoyed one before he shot both boys beside you a glare. He didn’t say anything and just scooched over. 

Jake replaced his spot, but not before shooting Sunghoon a victorious wink. He made a whole show of fluffing his pillow before laying down, his hands moving to pull off his pants with a singular swipe. 

His walls came down the second you took over, your hands grabbing his shoulder as you lowered yourself down onto him. He was already hard from watching you earlier which lowered the prep time. 

Even though Jake was definitely wider than Jay, you still took him with ease. His cock gave you exactly what you needed yet you still wanted more. 

You didn’t have to voice out your desires because Heeseung was already tapping the head of his cock against you, his tip moving around to collect as much of your slick as he could. 

His hand moved from base to tip in a repeated motion, his fingers squeezing him in the manner that he was usually used to- but this time was different. He’d never fucked someone with another cock already pressed it, but that wasn’t to say that he hasn’t given it thought before.

He’s definitely thought about fucking you with one of his friends, way too many times that he’d like to admit. When you first came to him with the idea he would like to say that he was hesitant, but he wasn’t. The day you broke up with Sungchan was probably the best day of his life, well second best to today. 

He wanted to see if the real thing was as good as it was in his dreams. He already knew your pussy would be the best he’s ever felt but he's always known that- it wasn’t anything new. But this? This was all new. 

He knew you were ready after you looked back at him with a nod, your eyes sharing unspoken words before he began to push in. He knew the stretch would be rough and he fully attended to take his time to let you adjust to the new feeling. 

He rubs an encouraging hand along your back, his palm gently pushed you flatter against Jake’s chest as his other hand held his base.

Jake, seeing the way your body was reacting, wrapped both of his arms around your waist. The new addition made it easier for Heeseung to contort your body into the way he wanted, his hand moving from your back and up to your hips to pull you up higher. 

Even with the two boys comforting you, you still remained as tense as before. Heeseung knew it wouldn’t feel as good to you if you remained in that state so he tried his best to help loosen you up, “Relax, i’ve got you.” And it worked.

And after a few minutes of random thrusts both boys managed to find a shared rhythm, their normal stroke pattern differentiating from each other. 

All three of your bodies were shining in sweat, the heat from your bodies rubbing against each other making a force field of humidity- but it didn’t bother any of you too much. At least not enough to stop. 

You could feel the bed from beside you moving, Sunghoon growing angsty with his lack of attention. “As much as I love to watch this- I think I'm going to explode if I don't feel your touch in the next three seconds.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic boy beside you with your best attempt at a small smile. It was hard to show any reaction to him at all by the way the two men were pushing into you, your body was on fire and you could feel your pleasure everywhere. 

Jake ignored Sunghoon and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue alternating between swirling around it and rolling it between his teeth. He didn’t want to share you with Sunghoon, not if it had the chance to cost him your perfect little pussy. 

Your mouth dropped open in pleasure, moans breaking through your no longer closed lips. It was too much at once but yet it somehow managed to be too little as well, you still needed more. You came here to be ruined, to be destroyed beyond fixable. And with your mouth still working- you weren’t getting that. 

“Fuck my mouth.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before pushing up beside you, his thigh pressing against your shoulder before he tapped the tip of his cock against your bottom lip.

“Will you be able to take it? I don’t think you’ll be able to focus with the other two taking you like this.” Sunghoon managed to switch the rolls once again, his voice coming out doubtful with an underlying degrading tone. “Maybe we’ll see why Sungchan cheated on you.”

Striker. Sunghoon didn’t wait for your response before he pushed into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat right away. He ignored your gag and held himself there for a few seconds- enjoying the way you gagged and choked around him. “It doesn’t feel good, does it? To have something that was rightfully yours be taken away so easily?”

He didn't care about how you reacted to his words, his need to feel your tongue pressing against him overruling anything. “You can’t even take us all at once, poor Jay sitting back and watching you get dicked down by all his friends.”

Sunghoon pulled one of your hands from its position on Jake’s shoulder before holding your open palm out to Jay, “Make him feel good too.” 

Jay was heavy in your hand when you swirled your finger around his slit, his dick still sticky with his release. He wrapped both hands around your wrist as he fucked himself into your fist, his moans matching Sunghoon’s as they worked with your moving body. 

Sunghoon felt eyes staring at him and when he looked up he saw Heeseung’s heavy lidded eyes staring back at him, his reflection barely noticeable through his pupils. Sunghoon smirked at him once before nodding his head towards you, “better make her cum fast, Jay and I want our turn.”

Heeseung shook his head with a challenging smile, “nah, I think we’re gonna edge her a few times. I’m in no rush, I’ve got all night.”

Jay chucked from the side before chiming in, “Knowing your track record you’re definitely not going to last.” Jay was lying and they all knew it, yet it still struck a chord in Heeseung.

“You sure? Pretty sure our girl didn’t even cum whilst fucking you, did you?” Heeseung stared Jay in the eye whilst baby taking you, his hand rubbing your lower back in a fake comforting way. 

Heeseung’s hand moved lower, his hand now resting against your ass. He watched the way your ass bounced back against him and the way your skin jiggled each time your bodies made contact. He pressed down once more before raising his hand up before smacking it down against you, his eyebrow raising when he felt you clench down around them.

“You liked that?” He did it again just to check and once again, you clenched. “Of course she likes that.” Jake now chimed in from beneath you as soon as his lips left your tits, “she always has.”

All three other boys shared a confused look before asking for Jake to elaborate, “What? You think Sungchan was the first to meet her?”

[harrywavycurly]

Not In The Same Way: A Harry Styles Blurb✨

Part 2: Like You Mean It

CW: Mentions of drinking, language, jealousy?

A/N: I have been thinking about this scenario in my head for a week and it just needs to get out, sorry in advance because it’s a bit sad-ish? Also this fts long hair Harry so if he’s not your thing that’s fine!

Summary: Sometimes Harry acts more like your boyfriend than your bestfriend, but he can’t help it especially since your actual boyfriend is an asshole✨

Harry looks at the time on his phone and lets out a sigh as he sees it’s just barely past midnight, far too early to be calling it a night seeing as he just arrived at the club that he’s currently helping celebrate the opening of not even an hour ago. But at the moment he doesn’t care as he slides his phone back into his pocket before he makes his way through the crowd towards the table his friends are at so he can tell them goodbye before he disappears for the rest of the evening. Once he spots them he puts a smile on his face but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he doesn’t need to check it to know it’s a new text and without a doubt it’s going to be from you. When he finally reaches the table his friends, or more so just social acquaintances that he sees at these types of events that he chooses to stick with instead of venturing off alone, greet him with warm smiles and sounds of cheer that he’s returned to them after going to the bar for a drink.

“Uh oh he’s got that look.” Harry turns to look at Gina who’s sitting at the end of the table closest to where he’s standing behind an empty chair. “You can’t possibly be leaving us so soon?” She accuses before she takes a sip of her drink, Harry looks around the crowded club and lifts a shoulder up in a casual shrug before he places his full drink down on the table.

“Sorry but it looks like you lot will still have a good time without me.” He explains as he takes his phone out, he feels the corners of his mouth drop a bit at the words on his screen, another text from you about your current location and how you just want to go home.

“Harry come on you just-”

“I’m sorry I really have to go.” Normally Harry wouldn’t be so quick to cut people off when they are asking him to stay out a little longer, he’s normally up for having fun well into the early morning hours when he goes to enjoy a night out but everything changes when it comes to you.

This isn’t the first time a night out has been cut short due to a frantic phone call or a string of clingy texts all from you, and Harry never hesitates to pick up no matter what he’s doing or where he’s at because you’re his bestfriend and have been for the last few years. The only issue is that sometimes the lines get blurred that should tell him where being your bestfriend ends and where he should let someone else, such as the absolute prick Kyle you decided to start dating two months ago take over. But he can’t ignore your calls or your texts just because he thinks he shouldn’t be the one to pick you up when you’re at a bar with your friends and want him to take you home, he also can’t ignore the slight tingling of pride he gets knowing he’s still your first call whenever you need someone.

The phone in his hands vibrating brings him back to reality when he looks and sees your name along with a photo of your smiling face taking over the screen, he quickly slides his thumb across the screen and brings the phone up to his ear. He gives the table of people one last smile and a wave before he turns and heads for the back exit, not even bothering to stop when he hears the shouts begging him to stay for just “one more drink”.

“Harry?” He smiles as your voice hits his ears while he does his best to maneuver through the dance floor full of people swaying to the beat of the music being blared through the speakers of the dj booth. “Harry are you there?”

“I’m here love.” He answers as he finally finds his way to the back exit where his driver is already waiting for him in the alleyway. He holds the phone up to his ear with one hand while he pushes the door open with his other. “You okay?” He asks as he scans the alley, his driver blinks the headlights letting Harry know where the car is parked.

“I just wanna go home.” You sigh making Harry frown as he walks the short distance to his car. “Can we go home?” Harry feels his heart drop when he swears he hears the sound of a sniffle come through your end of the phone. He quickens his pace to the parked car and opens the door to the backseat and gives his driver a little nod letting him know it’s okay to start driving since Harry already sent him your location he doesn’t need to be told where he’s heading.

“Of course love I just have to get to you first okay? M’not far so I’ll be there in a few.” He hears the sound of a door closing before you let out a huff making him assume you’ve found your way to the bathroom, deciding to just wait for him in there instead of with your group of friends.

“Where are you?” Harry looks at his suit and wonders for a moment if he should lie to so you don’t get upset thinking you ruined a night out for him. He must’ve paused for too long because a few seconds later he hears you let out a small whine before your voice is full of concern and a touch of panic. “Oh god did I interrupt something? You’re not in the middle of-”

“Hey hey it’s fine I promise you didn’t interrupt anything okay? I wasn’t doing anything important.” It’s not a total lie, a club opening its anything Harry would consider important and when he hears you sniffle he knows he needs to do something to get your mind off of the idea of you ruining his night. “What color dress did you go with for tonight? The black or pink?”

“Black the-the pink one has a stain on it from when you spilled coffee on it last New Year’s Eve.” He hears you let out a small chuckle and he smiles because he can imagine you sitting on the counter near the sink in the small bar bathroom laughing at the memory of last New Year’s Eve. “You had glitter all in your hair do you remember?” Your voice is softer and less frantic as it was a few moments ago.

“That’s because you ran us right under a confetti and balloon drop.” He doesn’t mention the kiss you planted on him as soon as the clock struck midnight, simply telling him it’s bad luck to start the new year without a kiss even if it is just one shared between friends.

Even though to him there wasn’t anything friendly about the way your hands tangled into his hair as you pulled him down to you for a second and third kiss to his lips. But then again the same could be said for his hand that he had on the side of your face and his other that gripped your hip so he could pull you closer to him while also doing his best to prolong the moment because he didn’t want you to pull away and it be the end of it, the end of a moment you’d later just brush off as if it meant nothing while to Harry it meant everything he’s just never told you.

“I had no idea that bar was going to have a balloon drop that was a shock.” You say with a laugh and Harry just nods as he runs a hand through his long hair as he looks out the window and sees the sign for the bar you’re at in the distance as they turn down the street it’s on. “That was a good night.” Harry smiles as you let out a dreamy sounding sigh and he wonders if you’re thinking of the kiss.

“It was.” He feels the car come to a stop and he notices a few random groupings of people out front, mostly just outside for a smoke or waiting for their rides. “I’m here love do you need me to come in or-”

“Can you? Or is it too much?”

“I can come in and get you that’s fine you’re in your usual spot?” He asks as his driver gets out to come around and open his door for him.

“Yes I’m in the bathroom.” Harry laughs and nods as if you can see him, anytime he’s come to rescue you from this bar in particular you always seem to be in the bathroom so you can escape whatever it is that has you calling him to come get you in first place rather it be you’re too intoxicated and don’t trust anyone around you or your fiends are being a bit mean, the bathroom is always where he finds you.

“Okay see you in a minute love.”

“Okie dokie.” You say with a smile before hanging up just as Harry’s door opens allowing him to get out and put his phone in his pocket before he heads for the entrance of the bar he is extremely over dressed for.

“Hey Carl.” Harry greets the bouncer with a smile when he approaches the door, the man looks up from his phone and gives Harry a once over before raising an eyebrow at him.

“Harry it’s good to see you but you sure you wanna come in here dressed like that? It’s two dollar tequila night.” He warns with a laugh as he reaches out and straightens out Harry’s suit jacket making Harry roll his eyes and playfully swat his hands away.

“I’m just here to take her home so hopefully I won’t be in long.” He informs the older man who just shakes his head because he knows you just as well as he knows Harry if not better since you’re here more often than he is so he knows it’s never quite that simple as just coming to get you and leaving.

“Ah well make it snappy okay? Can’t have you classin’ up the place.” He jokes as he waves Harry inside with a pat on his shoulder as he walks by making Harry chuckle as he walks through the door.

He keeps his head down a bit so he can try to avoid being spotted by the group of friends he knows you came here with, not that he’s really able to be that inconspicuous in his suit and dress shoes that make a horrible noise every time he picks them up from the sticky floor to take a step. He knows this bar like the back of his hand with how often he’s been inside either as a ride home or to join you in a night out thanks to how close it is to your apartment and how often they run specials on your favorite liquor, so he knows the small round table in the far right corner is where he’ll find a few of your friends that don’t enjoy dancing as much as the others. He also knows by the end of the night the small table will be far too crowded with drinks ranging from totally empty all the way to full to the brim as well as a few tubes of chapstick rolling around, and it’ll be surrounded by all your friends and possibly a few new additions they deemed worthy of being their dance partners for the evening that’ll either end with a new contact saved in their phone or a fake promise to see each other again.

Harry looks up and quickly scans the extremely crowded dance floor just to make sure you didn’t move from your usual spot, the bathroom at the end of the hall behind the bar. When he doesn’t see any signs of you, which he would be able to spot the tiniest hint of your hair or your smile from a mile away because to him you’re just that easy to find in a crowd, he heads towards the bar. He offers a polite smile to people as he does his best not to step on anyone’s toes and maneuver his way through the people dancing, chuckling to himself when he spots your friends swaying a little off beat near their designated table.

“Figured it was only a matter of time before you showed up.” James the head bartender shouts over the sound of customers telling him and the other bartender, Rebecca their orders. Harry just rolls his eyes as he makes his way behind the bar, giving James a friendly pat on the shoulder when he walks behind him.

“She’s lucky I love her or I’d have kicked her ass out of the employee bathroom by now. She’s been in there for half an hour.” He explains before Harry can turn and head down the hallway, hearing how long you’ve been inside the single stalled bathroom makes Harry raise an eyebrow since it’s only been about fifteen minutes since your initial text asking him to come get you.

Harry sees the very familiar door that he knows isn’t going to be locked because one time you accidentally ended up locking yourself inside with the key stuck in the doorknob and it took ten minutes for James and Carl to get the door open. He tries to prepare himself for whatever state you might be in even though over the phone you didn’t seem drunk or even very tipsy so he begins to think maybe you’re just having a rough night and want to call it quits well before your friends do resulting in them being a bit teasing, something he knows you don’t handle well in situations like this. He brings his hand up to the door and gives it three good knocks before he steps back to give you space to open the door and check who it is that’s bothering you.

“Oh thank god.” Your arms are wrapping around his middle and your cheek is pressing into the fabric of his dress shirt all before he can even say hello. “I’m so happy you’re here.” You mumble into his chest as Harry finally returns your hug and wraps his arms around your shoulders so he can pull you closer to him.

“What’s wrong love? Why’ve you been-”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Harry just lets out a small sigh as he feels you give him a tight squeeze. He places a small kiss to the top of your head while one of his hands run up and down your back.

“Ready to go home then yeah?” You pull away from him so you can look up at him and he smiles down at you as you nod but then he watches as your eyes take in his appearance making the wrinkle between your brows form as you look at him.

“You’re in a suit.”

“I am.”

“You said you weren’t doing anything important and-and here you are in a suit.”

“I wear suits to unimportant things all the time.”

“Harry…” your voice is a mixture of a groan and a whine as you rest your forehead on his chest. “You shouldn’t be here if you’re in a suit that means you were at an event and events are important because you’re Harry Styles and-”

“I’m exactly where I should be.” He says stopping your rant before you can say anything else. “Now come on let’s go get your purse so we can go.” He feels you tense up at the mention of grabbing your purse and it all begins to make sense to him while you’re hiding out back here instead of with your friends. “Having some trouble with the girls?”

“I just-they are so mean when I talk about him and it’s-I don’t like it.” Harry thanks his lucky stars you’re not looking at him as you bring up your boyfriend, Kyle because his face would’ve made you question if he was okay due to the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are no longer soft around the edges like they normally are anytime he’s near you.

“What’s he done now that’s got them all upset?” You let out a long sigh as you pull away from Harry making his arms fall to his sides as you place your hands on your hips while turning your head to look towards the back of the bar.

Harry feels his heart sink when he hears you sniffle and give your head a little shake as you hold up a hand towards him because you already know his arms are desperate to pull you back into his embrace at the sight of you getting upset over your boyfriend but you want to answer his question and you won’t be able to do that if he’s holding you because you’ll be too comfortable and won’t want to ruin the moment.

“He uhm he’s cheating on me or-or that’s what they think.” Harry licks his lips before he tucks his bottom one between his teeth as he lets your words sink in for a moment. “And I don’t know if he is or not? I don’t-I just don’t know.” You mumble as you look down at your feet.

“Why do they think that?” His voice isn’t harsh but it’s not nearly as soft as it was a moment ago. “What’s he been doing that’s got them all accusing him of cheating?”

“His Instagram is private now and he unfollowed everyone and he uh also posted some things to his uhm Snapchat that-”

“He unfollowed everyone? Even you?”

“Yes.”

“When’s the last time you talked to him?”

“I really don’t want to do this right now.” Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, that answer telling him everything he needs to know. “Please Harry. I just want to go home.” Your voice is watery as you turn to finally look at him again and all the anger Harry was feeling towards Kyle melts away when he sees your bottom lip start to tremble and your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

“Let me go get your purse and we can go.” He takes a step towards you and places both hands on your face, gently cupping your cheeks. “I love you.” Is all he says before he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too Harry.” The words sting a bit as they hit his ears because of course he knows you love him, just not in the same way.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Ellie crushing on her best friend's mom ..

And she doesn't even try to hold herself from letting herself leaning right into your touch. Her eyes still lock strongly with yours, as if she was a puppy that's completely entranced and taken by the soft caresses of its owner.

"I..I need you, m-ma'am." she whispers, barely above a breath, and it was so desperately needy.

warnings: age gap (ellie in her 20s), needy and desperate sub! ellie / indifferent and teasing dom! reader, ownership kink, thigh-riding, orgasm denial, mentions of ellie's fantasies about reader, infidelity, reader has some type of avoidance or issues with her guilt happening, slight angst(?)

a/n: i don't usually like writing age gaps so i tried to make it obvious that they are both adults and i also don't imagine ellie to be a freshman or sophomore with a milf! i did find this request really unique, though. anon should write because that is a lovely prompt.

And she doesn't even try to hold herself from letting herself leaning right into your touch. Her eyes still lock strongly with yours, as if she was a puppy that's completely entranced and taken by the soft caresses of its owner.

"I..I need you, m-ma'am." she whispers, barely above a breath, and it was so desperately needy....

Your hands cup her face, strong and loving. A touch not of lust, not pure sexual desire, but rather an emotional need that begs to be quenched. That scares you a bit. Your daughter isn’t home, but Ellie sure is. 

“Do you think about me, the way I think about you?” Ellie asks, sounding particularly uncertain. 

You simply smile, an expression similar to Ellie’s gaze that doesn’t reveal much. “Why, do I think of you as my owner?” You question, and Ellie’s heart squeezes within the confines of her ribs. 

“No, not that! I mean..Do you crave me, too?” With a voice but a whisper, Ellie looks up at you between the fans of her lashes. 

Of course, you dance around it all. Perhaps you’re scared to fully close the distance, as if getting this close to your dear daughter’s best friend isn’t bad enough. The answer that follows is one that Ellie cannot be surprised by, but she can’t be disappointed at your avoidance, not when your thumb applies itself over the softness of her cheek, just barely grazing over her jaw. 

“Sure, I crave you. Are you going to give me what I want?” You lean in as you speak. Ellie’s self control is limited. 

A college-age thing is what Ellie is. Not inexperienced, but starved and needy for a touch of a hand from a mind that knows how to actually control her. Most girls within her dorms would fuck her and dip, sad truth. You talk in pretentious rhymes, touch her with just grazes and soft affections, so aggravating and yet, she finds herself visiting you when your daughter is unaware. 

With such limited self control, you can’t be neither offended nor surprised when this freckled face leans in, and your stomach internally coils with a dose of need when she hesitates in her journey to imprint the lines of her lips onto yours. It’s a need that differs from Ellie’s, one that isn’t as impatient. Yours begs your fingers to soak themselves with her nectar, and it wishes to ruin her. 

“C-Can I kiss you now?” Ellie asks pleadingly. “Please?”

The disappointing thing should be that you don’t say yes, or even throw an ounce of enthusiasm towards her. In a way, it sets her insides on fire. A sick part of Ellie likes the neglect on your behalf. Still, she finds herself leaning, leaning even closer into your space, and finally allowing herself to feel what she has hoped to experience after ages of perverse courtship. 

Your kiss isn’t comparable to her past in any way, shape, or form–you possess her mouth with an intensity that leaves her gasping for oxygen from the start. It is far from the sweet, tender peck high school crushes offered up to her, and truly opposite from drunken, sloppy make-outs on dirty dorm couches. Your lips seem to wrap around or embed themselves against each of hers, giving separate attention before the pink, wet muscle Ellie has dreamed of feeling buried between her freckled thighs delves between her plush lips to seek out her tongue, though it may be tied. 

It is all too soon when you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. Ellie feels a slight sense of satisfaction upon seeing you breathless. She is far too used to your indifference to the point where she finds herself surprised that you exhibit any vulnerability, even if it is just a shortness of breath. It doesn’t leave her any less in need of you to own her, though. 

You sit on the couch behind you, and like Pavlov’s dog, Ellie crawls into your lap. Ellie, the same Ellie in boot-cut Levi’s and some worn hoodie, finds herself in the lap of you, a woman who only slips on skirts you’d typically find in an office, and heels Ellie wishes you’d crush her with. Ellie previously never cared to sit in a woman’s lap like a needy dog, but can’t seem to help herself. 

Right there on your couch, husband working to provide and your daughter back at her dorm room, you give Ellie the sensations she has been aching for. Her Levi’s are hap-hazardly thrown on the ground, and her panties are still on her. The fabric sticks to her sloppy, wet cunt as she drags it over the plush of your thigh. 

“U-Uh, huh..fuck me..” she breaths, hips shifting on you. You don’t miss the way her eyes glaze over, the lids sliding over her eyes, twitching in explicable need. 

“Fuck you? That’s pretty vulgar, Ellie.” You playfully scold, your affectionate hold on her hips dragging the one thing she is thinking with onto over your thigh. Her clit.

“Jus’ make me so needy, can’t help it.” She whines in your ear, heating up the cartilage. 

She can’t figure out why, but you allow Ellie to rut herself against your leg like it’s her lifeline. You’ve got this slick smile plastered on your face, and she doesn’t comment on it. In truth, she is scared that one wrong word or question of “what are we doing? Will we do this again? Is this more than just teasing and cumming?” will force you to flee. She imagines you so fragile in your feelings for her, only letting your guard down and allowing yourself to actually fuck and own her will cause a quake in the Earth. 

“You’re close.” You state, and the simplicity of it makes Ellie softly moan. The sound travels from your ears, between your brain, and straight down to your own cunt. 

“Gonna make a mess on your thigh with my cum, mhmm..” Ellie bites her lip to hold back from moaning too loudly, not wanting any neighbors to wonder why the sounds are erupting from your lovely house at four in the afternoon. 

The intense feeling of something bubbling up inside of her most desperate places, like a witches’ cauldron right before it boils over, is exactly what Ellie feels. She is right on the edge of something she believes to be exactly what she needs, and the start to maybe someday feeling your touch on her bare pussy, or at least dragging the soaked thing along your thigh for a second time. Instead, she is left empty-handed, and utterly humiliated. 

“Okay, okay. That’s enough.” You say, hands unfortunately slipping away from her janky hips. Ellie swallows her disappointment down in a wretched lump, awkwardly swinging one leg over and situating herself on the couch beside you. Her clit jumps from just seeing you, the red of your cheeks you can’t hide with verbal denial or a schooled expression. 

“I’ve got a comp essay to write. See you later, ma'am.” Ellie mumbles, not really thinking about whether or not you can hear it. She grabs her jeans, zipping up the metal teeth, and then laces up her converse. Her guess is that you pretend not to hear her, not uttering a single word. 

Outside of the door, Ellie wonders what it is that makes you the way you are. You want to have her, and you were so close to fully letting go. Perhaps it’s the guilt; you’re a married woman, afterall. Ellie is your daughter’s best friend, for Christ’s sake. She should feel guilty. Her ribs ache at the thought that she isn’t feeling what is morally right, but the haunting thoughts of your touch on her body leave her mind clouded. 

She wishes that she could be even half as casual as you are. 

taglist: @kaykeryyy i know you like getting tagged on ellie fics, so enjoy!

[faebled-stories]

Max Level: Pleasure Unlocked

Le Sserafim's Miyawaki Sakura x Male reader

AN: So... I may have been a tiny bit late to class today 😅. Why, you ask? Well... I was up all night re-watching Marry My Husband (totally worth it, btw). Anyway, fast forward to class, and I casually checked my phone, and—wait for it—WHAT?! Almost 300 likes for Ms. Kim Chaewon?! You guys are seriously amazing! 💖 This story was supposed to drop tomorrow, but because I love you all so much... here’s a little treat! 😘✨

P.S. Why is this lecture soooo long? Send help! 😂

Miyawaki Sakura, the eldest member of Le Sserafim, had found a new thrill—one that didn’t involve the stage lights or concert crowds. Live streaming had pulled her into its vibrant, fast-paced world of colorful pixels and instant connection. It wasn’t just a hobby anymore; it became her escape—a digital realm where she could unwind and be herself. Streaming offered her a space where she could share her love for video games in the most authentic way possible. Her laughter would echo through the headset, filling the room with the joy she found in navigating complex game worlds and strategizing with her audience. It was a welcome reprieve from the pressures of K-pop stardom, a place where she could exist without expectation.

But as Sakura’s love for streaming grew, so did the distance between her and Y/N. Y/N cherished their quiet evenings together—the ones filled with soft conversations, playful glances, and the warmth of shared intimacy. Now, those moments seemed to slip away, replaced by the blue glow of Sakura's monitor and the sounds of gaming filling the room. He found himself feeling increasingly sidelined, the comforting presence of his girlfriend diluted by the endless stream of fan interactions and in-game distractions. Every evening, as he sat in their apartment watching her stream, Y/N felt like a shadow in her life, forgotten behind the glow of her screen.

The silence after Sakura's gaming sessions hung in the air, heavy and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the laughter that used to fill their nights. He would lie in bed, staring at the empty space beside him, wondering when their quiet, intimate nights had been swapped for late-night streams. The late-night absence became more palpable, the connection they once shared now buried beneath layers of bright pixels and fan interactions.

Frustrated and unsure of how to bridge the growing gap between them, Y/N turned to the one person who knew both of them best—Kwon Eunbi, Sakura's former leader and the matchmaker who had brought them together in the first place. Eunbi, always the voice of reason and support, listened with a thoughtful expression as Y/N poured out his concerns.

"I just don't know how to get her attention anymore," Y/N confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "She used to light up when we were together, but now it feels like I'm competing with a screen."

Eunbi, ever the sage, leaned in with a twinkle in her eye, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Well, my dear, sometimes you just need to remind her of what she's missing," she said, her tone playful yet reassuring. "There's this little shop downtown. They have... items that might help reignite that spark you're worried about. A little mystery, a little surprise—that's the key."

Y/N blushed at the suggestion, but the idea intrigued him. Maybe Eunbi was right—maybe a little spontaneity was exactly what their relationship needed. "Okay noona," Y/N said with newfound determination. "Take me there. I'll do whatever it takes."

Eunbi grinned. "That's the spirit. Trust me, after this, she'll be more than eager to spend some time away from that screen, and if it doesn't work out... you have my number" the older girl winked before giving a slightly playful slap to Y/N’s behind

As soon as Eunbi led him into the little adult shop tucked away in a quiet side street downtown, Y/N’s nerves melted into curiosity. The shop was intimate, lined with rows of items that promised to stoke passion and bring lovers closer. Eunbi was more than willing to offer her guidance, clearly enjoying herself as she pointed out various products.

"Trust me," Eunbi had said with a wink, picking up a small bullet vibrator from one of the shelves. "This one is discreet but packs a punch, It's perfect for getting things started. She won’t see it coming." Y/N’s cheeks had flushed at the thought, but the image of Sakura’s surprised reaction made her smile. It was perfect for catching his girlfriend off guard.

As they continued browsing, Y/N’s eyes landed on a sleek, curved G-spot vibrating dildo that promised deeper, more intense sensations. He couldn’t help but imagine how Sakura might respond to its use—what that extra thrill might do to rekindle the heat between them. Eunbi happily skips over to Y/N with a box that he hasn't seen before, a rabbit ear vibrator "Y/N you have to get this, I’m telling you Sakura will melt and turn to putty in your hands, I have one myself and it's pretty amazing." Y/N looked at his noona with a skeptical look. Why is she so into this, is his precious noona actually not as innocent as she portrayed to the public?

Thinking about her words he can't deny that the idea of being the one to control Sakura’s pleasure sent a surge of excitement through him. He added it to his growing selection of items.

The final addition was a delicate set of pastel pink lingerie. His girlfriend's favorite color. lace-lined and revealing, something that he knew she would love, he remembered her saying she wanted something similar to this but was always ashamed and embarrassed to buy it

Y/N picked up the set knowing how much it would make his lover feel even sexier. He could already imagine the fabric clinging to his girlfriend's skin, the look in Sakura’s eyes when she sees it. There was no doubt that tonight, he would make sure all of Sakura’s attention was focused on him.

As the duo went to the counter the current cashier was about to take a break and out comes his replacement, someone who Y/N would not have expected to work here.

"Oh Eunbi unnie welcome back Oh! and Y/N oppa, what are you doing here?" the duck looking girl squealed. To say Y/N was shocked is an understatement. His girlfriend's former members, his friends, were all so familiar with this place.

"I was showing Y/N around the store, he needed my help" Responded the eldest. "Oppa is Sakura unnie giving you a hard time?" Yena responded, causing Y/N to shrink into himself in embarrassment. 

The girl started scanning the products one by one, her curious eyes glanced back and forth from y/n and each product he bought. "I didn't think Sakura unnie would be into this, I guess she's less of a prude than I thought" At this point Y/N just wanted to leave, he slightly hid behind his noona as she started placing her own products she wanted to buy. 

"I’ll pay for it Y/N I get a discount here, just pay me back after" Y/N nodded before Eunbi tapped her card and they both left with Yena waving to them, saying that they should visit her again.

With his purchases in hand, Y/N left the shop feeling embarrassed about the whole situation but he thought about the end goal and it made him feel more confident than ever. This was his chance to break through the monotony that had settled between them.

Later that evening, back in their shared apartment, Sakura was already in the midst of her nightly streaming routine. Her set up was in the living room, per Y/N's request after waking him up way too many times. It was bathed in the soft glow of the monitor, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across her face as she engaged with her audience. Y/N, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, watched from the shadows, clutching the items he had bought earlier.

He knew exactly what to do.

Grabbing a piece of paper, Y/N quickly scribbled a note and held it up just out of view of the camera, flashing it at Sakura with a grin. The note read: "Since you're so into games, let's play one right now, this will be level one, don't make anything obvious, good luck."

Sakura blinked in confusion at first, her head tilting as she tried to make sense of the message. But when she looked up at Y/N’s playful expression a delicate smile spread across his lips, a knowing look in his eyes. Sakura then glanced down at her stream, her posture adjusting as if nothing had changed, she quickly muted her mic. “ Not now Y/N, I'm busy.” before turning it back on and saying her mic was glitching. But Y/N had spent too long planning this out, spent too much money to turn back now. 

Satisfied with the confusion, Y/N smiled back. The game was on.

Without another word, Y/N crouched and began crawling under the desk. Since her desk was longer than any normal person would normally have, It made the access to the prize easy for him as he just needed to go from the side, his movements smooth and deliberate, hidden from the camera’s view. Sakura’s attention was still on the screen, her voice cheerful as she interacted with her viewers, but Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long before his girlfriend’s focus would shift entirely. Beneath the desk, Y/N felt a rush of excitement as he prepared to introduce a new level of spontaneity into Sakura’s night.

The note had been the first step—a secret shared between them, a playful challenge that only the two of them would understand. What happened next was up to Y/N, and he was ready to make it unforgettable.

Y/N smirked as he slowly slid the small bullet vibrator out of its box, he wiped it with a wet wipe before lifting up the pink short skirt in front of him, He brought the toy up and pressed it against Sakura's panty-covered mound, watching with delight as the Japanese girl jolted slightly in her seat. Sakura tried her best to maintain focus on the video game, determinedly gripping her mouse and keyboard as she attempted to hide her reactions to the subtle vibrations. But Y/N could see right through her act - the way Sakura's thighs clenched together, the slight flush creeping across her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.

To save face Sakura quickly slapped Y/N’s hand away from her wet pussy but Y/n quickly placed it back to its home.

The little vibrator buzzed away, its vibrations transmitted through the thin fabric barrier. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off of Sakura's core, could sense her wetness growing with each passing second. Sakura squirmed almost imperceptibly, fighting the urge to spread her legs further.

Sakura's game character died with a pitiful electronic squeal, breaking the spell. She blinked hard a few times, trying to regain her composure as she struggled to stay focused on the screen. Y/N chuckled quietly, pulling the vibrator away.

Rising up from his spot on the floor under the desk, Y/N made sure that he was holding eye contact with Sakura the whole way. Sakura's eyes widened as Y/N made a show of slowly swiping his fingers on the toy before rubbing them together and slowly pulling them apart a slick line of the idols juices were connecting Y/Ns fingers showing her that even though she's against it, her body doesn't lie. Y/N’s fingers were brought to his lips, eye contact still not breaking and in an exaggerated motion he licked her fingers clean. Sakura quickly glanced away, her face burning crimson now, but she couldn't keep her eyes from peeking back at Y/N. A shaky exhale escaped her lips.

Y/N just winked before reaching for a piece of paper that read Level 2 commencing before crawling back to her side of the desk, leaving Sakura even more flustered and distracted, though trying her best to play it cool. Y/N made a mental note - Sakura was even more responsive than expected. This was going to be fun indeed...

The next level involved the G-spot vibrating dildo, escalating the intensity. There was only one small thing blocking his way, deciding to deal with it he wrapped his fingers around her panties before giving it a quick and powerful tug completely ripping them. The sound loud enough to catch Sakura off guard. Shocked, the idol’s hand instinctively reached down, her fingertips brushing her now bare, wet pussy. She inhaled sharply, her body reacting to the sudden exposure, but she didn’t dare glance away from the screen.

Y/N teased her relentlessly, his fingers circling her entrance before finally pushing the toy into her slick cunt. He moved it slowly at first, letting her adjust to the sensation, feeling her muscles tighten around the intrusion. Sakura’s hand gripped her mouse tighter, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her composure. She nearly missed a key on her keyboard, her body betraying her as Y/N expertly played with her, pulling the toy out just as she neared the edge of release.

Her breath came in shallow, uneven pants. The subtle strain in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who watched with a smirk, knowing just how close she was to losing control. Yet, he denied her the satisfaction of climax, bringing her to the edge again and again only to retreat, leaving her desperate and aching.

“Fuck,” Sakura muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she tried to focus on her stream. Her viewers, blissfully unaware of the torment unfolding beneath her desk, cheered her on in the game, oblivious to the real game being played just out of sight.

Y/N pulled the toy away once more, but this time, Sakura couldn't hold back her frustration. "Ahh, what the fuck" she whispered harshly, trying to control her reaction. She couldn’t look down to see what he was doing, not without giving herself away on camera. She tried to push through the absence, hoping Y/N would relent, but the moment stretched on.

And then, without warning, Y/N switched the vibrations onto its highest setting and plunged it back into her, the thick dildo buried deep inside her clenching cunt, the toy felt around and lived up to its name, pressing on that spot she loved.

"AHHHH!" Sakura’s cry pierced the quiet of the room, her pussy convulsing around the toy as an intense orgasm overtook her. She barely had time to mute her mic, her thighs trembling and squeezing together, her stomach contracting as wave after wave of electric pleasure crashed over her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation

Her game character spun wildly on screen, her mouse jerking out of control as her body seized up. Her viewers, concerned but unsuspecting, quickly flooded the chat with messages.

"Are you okay? What happened?" one asked.

"You just screamed like you saw a ghost, lol," commented another, oblivious to the real reason behind her outburst.

Sakura’s cheeks burned with humiliation. They had heard her, but thankfully they couldn’t know the truth—how their sweet, innocent idol was secretly being driven to the brink of madness by her boyfriend under the desk. With a shaky breath, she forced a laugh. "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought I saw a bug under the desk," she lied, her voice higher than usual, the embarrassment clear. "You know how I get when it comes to bugs!"

Her viewers, still clueless, accepted the explanation, laughing along with her as they playfully scolded her for getting so worked up over something so trivial. But Sakura’s mind was far from the stream now. The aftershocks of her orgasm still rippled through her, and she bit her lip hard, willing her body to calm down. The irony wasn’t lost on her—here she was, playing the role of their wholesome crush while secretly being ravaged by Y/N just out of sight.

Satisfied for the moment, Y/N leaned in and gave her sensitive pussy a slow, teasing lick, sending another shiver through her body. Her thighs trembled, clenching around his head as his tongue worked its magic. She didn’t want to admit how much she missed this—missed him—but the pleasure coursing through her veins made it impossible to deny. He left a final lingering kiss against her soaked lips before pulling away, leaving her panting and desperate for more.

As Y/N stood, he reached for the final toy in his collection, pulling the rabbit-ear vibrator from his bag. His fingers traced the packaging—Rabbit Ear Toy: Maximum Clitoral Stimulation—and a grin spread across his face. The playful sparkle in his eyes revealed his mischievous intent, recalling how Eunbi had enthusiastically recommended this particular device. With a small chuckle, he knew this would be the perfect grand finale to their secret, unspoken game.

Y/N scribbled a quick note—Level three, good luck—and slid it over to Sakura. Her gaze flicked to him, and their eyes met briefly. A silent exchange of both anticipation and trepidation passed between them. The tension hung thick in the air, a blend of excitement and nerves that only heightened the moment. Sakura’s cheeks flushed as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to remain focused on the game, but her attention was split, knowing what was coming next.

As Y/N shifted back into his familiar spot under the desk, his breath hitched in anticipation. It had become his little domain, a place where he could send Sakura into oblivion without her viewers being any the wiser. He carefully unwrapped the vibrator—an egg-shaped toy, compact but powerful. The soft, flexible rabbit ears promised an intensity that could tip her over the edge with just the right pressure. His hands, steady and deliberate, moved between her legs, teasing her for a moment. The toy slipped between her folds, refusing to cooperate at first, but Y/N’s persistence paid off. He finally nestled it perfectly in place, the rabbit ears snugly embracing her clit.

For a second, he paused. The anticipation in the room grew thick as Sakura shifted in her chair, her breaths shallow. The tension between them felt electric. Y/N knew what this small delay would do to her—he was prolonging the inevitable, letting her body crave the release that was just out of reach. Then, with a press of the button, the vibrator buzzed to life.

The effect was immediate. A surge of pleasure ripped through Sakura’s body, her muscles tensing as the toy began its relentless rhythm. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying desperately not to give herself away. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of heat cascading from her core, and her hands trembled as they hovered over her mouse and keyboard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her body writhing ever so slightly, desperate to remain still for the camera.

Her chat lit up with messages of encouragement. Her viewers had no clue the real battle she was fighting—the one between maintaining her composure and succumbing to the pleasure that was quickly unraveling her. The boss fight on screen grew more intense, each phase of the battle requiring her utmost focus, but her concentration wavered with every flick of the vibrator against her clit. It was nearly impossible to think, let alone execute precise game mechanics, as the rabbit ears worked her over with merciless efficiency.

Sakura whispered to herself, “Y-You’ve got this, Sakura!” Her voice was strained, too high-pitched to mask her struggle, but she plastered on a wide smile for her audience. Her hands shook violently now as they moved across the keyboard, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the game. Her pulse raced in sync with the toy, the pleasure mounting to unbearable levels.

The boss’s health bar ticked down in sync with her endurance, her every keystroke becoming sloppier, more frantic. As the final blow landed and the boss collapsed in defeat, Sakura could no longer hold back. Her body convulsed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave. A guttural shout escaped her lips as she slammed her hands down on the desk, her voice cracking with a blend of triumph and carnal release.

“YESSSS!!” she screamed, her eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the force of the orgasm that ripped through her. Her muscles clenched, and her toes curled as the vibrator continued its assault, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until she was utterly spent.

Her viewers erupted into cheers, congratulating her on the hard-earned victory. Oblivious to the real reason behind her breathlessness and the flush on her face, they celebrated her skill and persistence. The screen flashed with messages of admiration, and Sakura forced herself to sit up, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

“Whew… that was intense!” she gasped, wiping away the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her hand reached for her water glass, her fingers still trembling slightly as she took a long, much-needed drink. “Thanks for cheering me on, guys,” she added with a weak laugh, masking the exhaustion coursing through her.

As Sakura leaned back in her chair, Scrolling through other games to hopefully find a good one to end the night, Y/N, who had been patiently watching her recovery, wasn’t quite done yet. A devilish grin played on his lips as he leaned forward, his finger hovering over the vibrator’s controls. Without warning, he cranked the toy up to its highest setting.

The sudden jolt of the vibrator sent Sakura reeling. Her body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as the intensity of the stimulation threatened to unravel her all over again. Her breath hitched in her throat as her muscles tensed, gripping the arms of her chair to ground herself. Y/N’s laughter echoed softly from beneath the desk, watching her fight the new wave of pleasure with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

Sakura, the ever-composed streamer, found herself on the precipice of a new kind of experience. The powerful vibrations of the new toy sent shivers through her body, a primal force that ignited a wildfire of anticipation within her. Her body responded with a raw, undeniable intensity, the moisture building until it seeped through her folds, dripping off the chair and leaving a glistening trail on the floor. The sweet scent of candles that once permeated the room was quickly overtaken by the pungent aroma of her arousal, a testament to the burgeoning passion that consumed her.

As the pleasure reached its crescendo, a surge of instinct took over. With lightning-fast reflexes, Sakura muted her microphone and switched off her camera, craving the sanctuary of privacy for the intimate storm that was about to break. The online world faded away, and she surrendered completely to the throes of ecstasy.

The timing was impeccable. As Sakura neared her peak, Y/N, her boyfriend, seized the moment. He seamlessly combined the pleasure of the vibrator with the intimacy of his mouth, diving forward with a ravenous hunger. His tongue explored the depths of her, savoring her taste and fueling the fire that burned within her. Each flick and swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

The combined sensations were too much for her to bear, and with an animalistic moan escaped Sakura's lips, a guttural sound intertwined with a scream that seemed to rise from the very core of her being. "UGH FUCK YEEESSSS Y/N!" Her voice was a raw expression of unrestrained pleasure. She grasped his hair, her body convulsing in a wave of ecstasy. Her legs lifted and wrapped around him pulling his face impossibly close to her core, her muscles contracting and relaxing with each tremor, the old gaming chair squeaking in protest with every movement. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant hue, a visible marker of her heightened state as she rode the wave of her orgasm with unbridled abandon, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Sakura climaxed with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Y/N continued his ministrations, prolonging her orgasm until she felt every ounce of pleasure.

For Y/N, the experience was both exhilarating and intensely intimate. He couldn't see anything; his vision was blocked by Sakura's body. Each subtle movement sent shivers down his spine—her soft skin felt warm and alive against him, her thighs encasing his head in a passionate vice that was as constricting as it was pleasurable. it was just the two of them, enveloped in a cocoon of heat and desire.

This was a Sakura he rarely saw, one that lay hidden behind the carefully curated persona of her online streams. In those moments, she had shed the facade of the cheerful, bubbly entertainer and revealed a side of herself that was raw and unfiltered. It was the Sakura from before her streaming career, the girl who had always been playful and spontaneous, exuding an authentic vulnerability that left him breathless. Her laughter echoed in the confines of his mind as he realized how seldom he’d had the chance to witness this intimate version of her.

The chaos of streaming and the demands of her audience faded into the background, replaced by a potent chemistry that crackled between them. His own heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum echoing the urgency of the moment, while his breath hitched at the raw display of passion and surrender before him. Every heartbeat was a reminder of how deeply and irrevocably he craved this connection.

This moment carved a permanent mark on him, etching itself into his memory like a secret tattoo. It was a reminder of the beautiful, complex dynamics that fueled their relationship—beyond the streaming lights and scripted interactions lay a blend of affection, longing, and a hint of danger. Their souls intertwined in this rare instance, revealing as much about their hearts as it did about their desires. The very essence of their bond lay anchored in these fleeting but fervent exchanges, making each encounter a treasure and a risk he was willing to embrace.

Sakura's breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly released her hold on Y/N, her legs trembling, weak from the intense stimulation. The room seemed to amplify all her senses, the cooling sensation of sweat mingling with her skin a stark contrast to the recent heat. Her legs, barely able to support her, struggled to find their footing as she fought to regain her composure. The assistant to her pleasure, the formidable toy that had helped push her to the edge of chaotic bliss, lay on the floor, a glistening reminder of the storm that had just passed. Its surface, coated in her essence, served as a tangible testament to her unleashed passion.

Realizing that her momentary loss of control had severed her connection with her viewers, Sakura quickly attempted to regain her composure. Her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. But before she could complete the act of resuming, Y/N’s steady hand came to rest against her thigh, gently halting her fidgeting. Kneeling between her legs, his tall frame allowing him to almost come face to face with her, their eyes meeting in a moment that felt both electric and profoundly intimate.

Sakura's mind swirled with a haze of emotions, a flicker of melancholy washing over her like a soft tide. She missed these moments—the brief interludes where they could shed their roles and embrace a deeper connection, where laughter and genuine emotion melded seamlessly into something more. Each stolen glance, every shared laugh had been a thread weaving them closer, and yet, amidst the chaos of their lives, she felt those threads fraying, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

In that heavy silence, Y/N reached for her, his fingers warm as they gently cupped the back of her head. There was no need for words; his eyes spoke volumes, conveying understanding and longing in a single gaze. Then, with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine, he leaned in and sealed their lips together in a passionate kiss. The flavors of her arousal mingled with saliva—a delicious, intoxicating symphony that danced on their tongues, each movement igniting a fire deep within her core.

Sakura was momentarily consumed by the warmth of his embrace, every worry dissolving into the sweet elixir of their connection. But as the kiss lingered, her heart raced at the thought of what lay beyond this moment. Still lost in the afterglow, Sakura whimpered softly when Y/N finally pulled away, his lips brushing against hers gently as they parted. His gaze held her captive, a silent promise lingering in the space between them, but it only deepened her desire, leaving her craving more.

This was the testament to their bond—a connection that blossomed amidst the chaos of her storm, a lingering whisper of hope amid uncertainty. She knew she couldn’t let this slip through her fingers again, not when they had ventured into a territory that felt so beautifully raw and undeniably real.

But as the seasoned entertainer she was, she corrected her streaming gadget, turning her webcam back on and adjusting her microphone. Her face, still flushed from her recent exertion and her lips swollen, was now contorted into an apologetic smile as she addressed her audience, hiding the true reason behind her sudden departure by blaming it on unpredictable internet issues.

"Sorry about that, guys," she panted, her voice slightly uneven with the remnants of her peak. "We had a little technical glitch," she continued, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous hint that was not quite caught by her virtual audience.

The chat, a flurry of messages, was filled with questions and mild irritation. Her viewers were curious, their previous excitement now shifted to suspicion and a growing sense of doubt . They wondered what had caused such a sudden disruption. Yet, despite their curiosity, they respected her privacy, unwilling to push for explanations that she was not willing to give until she was ready. In their minds, the truth of her interruptions could often be their most decadent fantasies, creating an air of mystique and allure around her that kept them coming back for more. Sakura, a master of her craft, knew how to keep her audience hooked, turning even a glitch into a potential performance enhancement, as her viewers' imaginations filled in the blanks left by their sudden disconnection.

Y/N, with an air of mystery swirling about him, gracefully emerged from under the desk, his presence suddenly filling the room with an electric energy. As if appearing from the shadows, he moved with a fluidity that captivated Sakura, drawing her gaze irresistibly. From his vantage point behind the monitor, Y/N's eyes met Sakura's, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths.

His movements were deliberate, with a rhythm that matched the beating of Sakura's heart, as if he were conducting an intimate dance where only the two of them could hear the music. The fact that he planned this whole thing gave Sakura a warm feeling. The remnants of their shared passion became a declaration of love, a promise of intimacy, and a reaffirmation of their bond.

Satisfied with his thorough work, Y/N offered Sakura a look, his eyes darting back and forth from Sakura and a bag that was placed just to the side. A secretive smile playing upon his lips. It was a silent challenge, an invitation for Sakura to join him in their next adventure. Turning away, he walked calmly towards the bedroom.

As he cleaned the toys and meticulously arranged them in their new resting place, the nightstand, Y/N took the time to appreciate the small details of their shared space. The nightstand, once merely a piece of furniture with no purpose, now held a whole new meaning, a symbol of their intimate connection.

Sakura remained seated, her breath catching in her throat as Y/N disappeared into the shadows of the bedroom. The atmosphere lingered with a charged energy, the room still humming from the intensity of their shared moment. Sakura’s mind raced, replaying the image of Y/N’s mischievous smile, his teasing, deliberate movements, and the unspoken promise that hung in the air like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

For a moment, Sakura sat frozen, the temptation pulling her forward. She felt a surge of warmth radiate through her, a tug towards the bedroom where Y/N awaited, his presence as enticing as ever. The weight of their connection, unspoken but deeply understood, anchored her as she ended the stream and rose from her seat.

Sakura’s eyes fell to the bag on the floor, under the coffee table, its presence both familiar and intriguing. She had seen Y/n walk in with it  earlier but hadn’t given it much thought in the midst of her stream. Now, as the evening light dimmed into twilight and the apartment grew quieter, curiosity took over. Slowly, she bent down, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the bag as she picked it up. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a ripple of anticipation through her. 

Peeling back the wrapping, her breath caught when her eyes landed on the contents. A stunning set of lingerie lay folded neatly inside, the color immediately striking her—her favorite color. The rich, silky fabric shimmered slightly in the low light, delicate lace tracing intricate patterns along its edges. She lifted it out of the bag, feeling the cool smoothness of the material slip between her fingers. The fabric felt luxurious, softer than she imagined, and as she held it up, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Y/N had remembered.

In the whirlwind of their lives, it wasn’t often that someone paid attention to the small details, but Y/N always had a way of doing just that. Not just any lingerie, but a set that spoke to her tastes, a color that made her feel powerful, beautiful, sexy. The care and thoughtfulness behind it warmed her from the inside, the kind of warmth that settled deep, in the quiet places of the heart.

Sakura didn't waste time, a surge of excitement bubbling up inside her. Without even heading to the bathroom, she began to undress right there in the middle of the living room. Her body was sore, every muscle aching from the games “levels”, but the thrill of the moment outweighed the discomfort. She moved slowly, peeling away the layers of her clothing, and as each piece fell to the floor, she felt lighter. Her breath hitched when the cool air of the room brushed against her bare skin.

Pulling the lingerie up over her legs, she marveled at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been crafted just for her. The lace clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that made her feel both strong and undeniably feminine. She caught a glimpse of herself in the nearby mirror and paused for a moment. The reflection staring back at her was striking—she looked lovely and powerful. The fatigue that had settled into her bones seemed to dissipate, replaced by an invigorating energy, one that thrummed beneath her skin like a quiet storm ready to break.

Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the slightly ajar bedroom door, and that’s when she felt it. The pull. It was almost magnetic, an invisible force drawing her toward Y/N. There had always been something between them ever since they met, something more than words or physical attraction. It was an unspoken connection, a shared intimacy that went beyond the surface of things. Y/N had a way of turning even the smallest gestures into something profound. A simple gift of lingerie wasn’t just a gift; it was a conversation, an invitation, a reminder of the bond they shared.

Sakura’s heart raced as she stood at the threshold of the bedroom, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. From where she stood, she could see Y/N’s silhouette bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. The room itself was dim, quiet, filled with the gentle hum of the night outside. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, focused. There was a look in his gaze—one that she knew well. Mischief, affection, desire, all wrapped into one.

Her breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t the cold air or the tightness of the lingerie. It was the way Y/N looked at her. As if she were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. As if the night was theirs and theirs alone.

Without breaking eye contact, Sakura stepped inside the room, her bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound echoing in the quiet. It was as if the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in the cocoon of their own making. The air between them was thick with anticipation, with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in the sight of her standing before him in the delicate lace and silk he had chosen. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, appreciative smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes—a smoldering intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

She moved closer, the space between them shrinking with every step. Her own breathing had become shallow, her pulse quickening in response to the heat building between them. It wasn’t just about the physical desire; it was the emotional weight of everything they had shared, everything they had been through together, all condensed into this one, intimate moment.

Sakura reached the edge of the bed, standing just before him, her body illuminated by the soft, golden light. Y/N reached out, his hand gently grazing her thigh, his fingers brushing over the delicate lace. His touch was light, teasing, sending a shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, the feeling of his skin against hers.

He had given her so much today, endless pleasures each one more intense than the last. But now, as she stood before him, she knew the time had come, it was his turn. She smiled, slow and teasing, as her fingers toyed with the straps of the lingerie. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a soft whisper filled with promise.

"You’ve given me so many gifts today baby. Now it’s your turn to unwrap your present." 

She gave him multiple kisses from his neck to his cheek, ending with a needy one on his lips.

“Since you're so into games, let's play one right now,” her words mimicking those that started this whole thing.

The night had just begun, filled with endless possibilities Sakura's situation mirrored her favorite games. She had failed multiple times but knew that this was a fresh start, an extra life, With a smile she positioned herself face to face with his crotch and pulled down Y/N's pants exposing his member, she gave the tip a quick kiss and lick, before reminding him that singing was not the only thing her mouth was used for.

Miyawaki Sakura was back on level one.

[yandere-romanticaa]

The lush green garden would always come to life whenever Jing Yuan would step foot into it - the jade like sheen on the leaves would make a person wonder if they had walked inside a man made paradise as the scent of opulent blooms would trail not far behind. The garden was a source of tranquility, a place to come and rest, to seek peace of mind.

Naturally, that was not the case for you.

With a huff and suppressed cough, you tried to push the massive white lion off you, its snow-white fur sticking to your frowning lips as it only pressed itself closer. The massive cat clearly had other things in store for you as it evidently found your frustration amusing, if not downright adorable.

It was no different than its insufferable owner.

"Now now Mimi, play nice." said Jing Yuan with a tut, his voice playful and airy. The man sat across you with his legs lazily crossed against one another, a cup of tea in his hand. Sluggishly, he took a hard sip, eyes closed in complete relaxation as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down in joy.

You wanted nothing more than to smack the pristine red porcelain out of his hand.

"General." you seethed, teeth bared in anger. It was difficult not start acting out of line but in due time, you had learned that the best way to get the man to listen was to be nice. Sure, you probably looked like a raging demon, ready to claw his throat out with your bare hands but those feelings had to be pushed aside. Your smile was crooked and twisted, obviously fake but Jing Yuan didn't seem to care. He acknowledged you with a serene smile as he placed the cup back on the table. From the corner of your eye, you could still make out the pretty white wood used which the table was made of as an assortment of various sweets was spread on it. Cakes, strawberry and lemon tarts, odd candies, fine chocolates and other goodies, all of which served to soothe you, or so Jing Yuan liked to tell himself in a vain hope to win you over.

Just as you were about to speak once more, Mimi had the bright idea of pressing her paw against your stomach, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. The creature seemed to purr in delight as she brought herself even closer to you, shoving even more of her thick hair down your throat as she nuzzled herself deep into your mouth and nose. You spat out an endless sea of fur, saliva sticking to the corner of your lips as an amused Jing Yuan laughed his butt off in the background. Even with your obscured vision thanks to Mimi's head, you could clearly see the general clutching his armored chest, tears almost streaming down his eyes as he laughed his heart out.

It was a shame how pretty he was. The way in which his soft locks would sway back and forth, the few rays of sunlight framing his face just right, making him appear even more handsome than he had any right to be.

You hated how much he made your heart skip a beat, he had no right, not after taking you away so selfishly. If you were to maim his face with a butter knife a little, just a little, would the endless throbbing inside of you cease?

There was no time to even process the thought as Mimi had fully tackled you to the ground now.

As if she could sense your violent thoughts, the lion started to lick your face from top to bottom. She purred and purred, the sound ringing loudly in your ears as you brought your arms towards her head, desperate to make her move. The lion seemed to be made of iron rather than flesh and blood because no matter how hard you tried, she would not be moved.

Gods be good, did Jing Yuan teach his pet to be an outright pest like this?!

You didn't even notice the general had moved and was now next to you. He laid sideways, his cheek pressed up against the palm of his hand as the other arm was outstretched to pet the top of Mimi's head. The fur was soft to the touch as Jing Yuan mumbled praises to the lion but his gaze was locked onto you, golden eyes twinkling with adoration and something just a bit darker.

Despite the current predicament, Jing Yuan was acutely aware that this situation was far from normal. He would toss and turn in the dark of the night, mind twisting with horrible thoughts and selfish ideas, none of which were fitting of someone like him. You had carved your place deep inside Jing Yuan's heart and had wrapped yourself around him like a vine in spring. Sometimes, he would be met with sharp thorns, wounding him horribly. He knew that he had no right to be upset with you but that did not change the fact that a wound was still a wound, blood was still blood.

And you always knew how to cut deep.

This was his punishment, he supposed. The grueling price to pay for keeping you by his side for all of eternity as he would suffer at the thought of knowing that his feelings would never be truly reciprocated. With each rising sun and till the setting orange dusk, Jing Yuan was always seeking ways to worm his way into your heart, to discover a way to make you love him. He was a patient man and his cunning knew no bounds, it was only a matter of time before some progress would start to show... Still, it was never going to be quite like the thing he wanted.

That is precisely why he was enjoying himself so much at this moment. He took the sight in like a man starved and engraved the sight deep within his heart and mind, a rare happy memory of his to keep. Ever the opportunist, Jing Yuan was going to make the most out of this moment.

His own selfishness made him sick to his stomach but his madness called for more. With a tap of his palm, Mimi stopped her little assault and finally gave you a moment to breathe, which you took like a fish to water. Even with your hair disheveled and face sticky with spit and drool, nothing could deter Jing Yuan from admiring you.

He had managed to craft his ideal paradise. He just wondered how much time he had left until it would all come crashing down.

[puckstories]

Stuck With Me | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Cursing, established relationship, kissing, idk what else. Only edited once.

Summary; Based on this request: "could you do a fic of reader feeling jealous and quinn being reassuring 💕tyy"

Word Count; 4.0k

Author’s note; This is not my best work at all, I'd probably rate it a 4/10 just because I didn't really flesh out the jealousy + the pacing is kind of rushed, but I'm tired of looking at it frankly. Possibly in the future I will go back and edit it and make it better. Thank you to the anon who requested this though, I hope you liked it at least a little bit. Also, it's not really mentioned, but Quinn is not drunk and is okay to drive home + Josh is Josh Norris, and Kaylee is just a character I made up, no one IRL. -Honey.

“You’re staring,” Josh comments, nonchalant as he leans closer to nudge your arm.

Startled, you tear your gaze away and take a long sip of your drink, using the glass as a shield. “I was not,” you mumble, trying to sound casual as you glance sideways at him.

Josh chuckles, the sound resonating just slightly over the music playing. “Sure,” he says, dragging out the word with a smirk that makes it clear he’s not buying your denial for a second.

You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh as you lean back against the cushioned booth. No matter how hard you try, your gaze betrays you, drifting back toward the pool table across the room. Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass as you watch Quinn and Kaylee, their heads tilted close as they laugh about something you can’t hear.

You met Kaylee earlier, when you and Quinn first arrived at the bar. She’d come over almost immediately, her tall frame poised with an effortless grace that made you feel small and slightly disheveled in comparison. She was gorgeous—model-gorgeous—with sleek, fiery red hair that fell perfectly over her shoulders and striking green eyes that seemed to gleam in the dim lighting.

And Quinn had lit up when he saw her.

“She’s just an old friend,” he’d said casually, his hand brushing your lower back as he introduced you. They’d gone to college together, apparently, and while she’d been nothing but kind and polite to you, there was something about the way she made him laugh that stuck with you. It was freer, lighter somehow, as if she knew a version of him you didn’t.

She did, actually.

You knew it was irrational. You knew that Quinn loved you, that he hadn’t seen her in years and that they were just catching up. But the jealousy crept in anyway, an unwelcome guest settling in your chest. It festered beneath your skin, bubbling hotter and more insistent with every glance and every laugh they shared over the pool table.

“You’re doing it again,” Josh observes, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your head swivels back toward him, a guilty heat rushing to your face. “Doing what?” you ask defensively, though the slight waver in your voice betrays you.

Josh arches a brow, leaning back in his seat as he folds his arms. “Staring. Sulking. Probably plotting Kaylee’s downfall, if I had to guess.” His tone is teasing, and there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he studies you.

You groan, setting your empty glass down on the table with a soft thud. “I’m not sulking.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies, clearly unconvinced.

“And I'm not plotting anyone's downfall!” you insist, but your gaze betrays you once again, flicking back toward Quinn and Kaylee. She’s leaning over the pool table now, lining up a shot, and Quinn is watching her with an amused grin, his arms crossed as he leans casually against the edge.

Your chest tightens. You know it’s nothing. You know Quinn is yours, that he’s coming home with you tonight, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind refuses to let it go.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You don’t wait for Josh’s response, sliding out of the booth with your glass in hand. The hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter surround you as you weave through the crowded bar, bodies shifting just enough to let you pass. Your pulse feels louder in your ears than the bass thumping faintly from the overhead speakers.

When you reach the bar, you set your empty glass down with a quiet clink and take a seat on one of the worn barstools. The polished wood is sticky beneath your palms, and the faint scent of spilled beer and citrus lingers in the air.

You glance up, taking in the bartender, a guy with a mullet that somehow works on him, tattoos winding up his arms like intricate stories inked into his skin. He’s busy, sliding a tray of colorful cocktails across the counter to a group of friends celebrating a bachelorette party. You lean on the counter, your gaze drifting to the mirrored shelves behind him, rows of liquor bottles glinting in the dim light like a kaleidoscope of temptation.

After a minute or two, he finally makes his way over to you, wiping his hands on a rag tucked into his waistband. “What can I get you?” he asks, his tone brisk but not unfriendly.

“I’ll just get a Jack and Coke, thanks,” you say, offering the bartender a polite smile. As he reaches for a glass, you lean slightly over the counter, your voice carrying just enough over the ambient noise of the bar. “And my boyfriend has a tab. Last name’s Hughes—put it on there, please.”

The bartender pauses for a moment, giving you a quick once-over before nodding. “Got it,” he says, turning toward the shelves with practiced ease.

You settle back onto the stool, your fingers tracing idle patterns on the sticky wood of the countertop as you glance around. Behind the bar, the bartender moves quickly, grabbing a tumbler and dropping in a few cubes of ice before reaching for the Jack Daniel’s. His movements are efficient, the kind that come from muscle memory, and within moments, the golden liquid pours into the glass, followed by a splash of Coke.

It’s a simple drink, nothing fancy or fussy, but that’s what you like about it—consistent, reliable, no surprises.

He sets the drink in front of you with a small napkin, the condensation already starting to bead on the sides of the glass. “There you go,” he says, glancing briefly in your direction before moving on to the next customer.

“Thanks,” you reply, wrapping your fingers around the cool glass.

Taking a sip, the familiar blend of sweet Coke and smoky whiskey slides down smoothly, the warmth spreading through your chest. It’s exactly what you need—not too strong, not too complicated. Just enough to ground you as you try to push away the nagging thoughts that have been buzzing at the back of your mind all evening.

Sliding off the barstool, you clutch your drink in one hand and begin making your way back to the booth you’d claimed earlier, until your body collides with something—someone—firm and unyielding. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you stumble back, your drink sloshing out of the glass and soaking into your white top. The cold liquid clings to your skin, staining the fabric a disgusting, murky brown.

“Shit, sorry,” the guy mutters immediately, his voice filled with genuine regret. He moves quickly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the bar behind you. “Here, let me—”

He leans forward, attempting to dab at your shirt with the wad of napkins. His well-meaning gesture only amplifies your frustration, the awkwardness of the situation making your cheeks flush. You set your now-empty glass on the nearest surface with a loud clink and grab the napkins from him.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice clipped as you step back. “Thanks, I got it.”

You don’t wait for a response, brushing past him and heading toward the bathrooms. Your pulse pounds in your ears, a mix of embarrassment and irritation settling in your chest.

Pushing the door open, you’re relieved to find the women’s bathroom empty. The faint hum of fluorescent lights fills the silence as you approach the sink. With a deep sigh, you wet the bottom of your shirt under the cold stream of water, scrubbing at the stain with a dollop of foamy soap from the dispenser.

The dark blotch stubbornly clings to the fabric, refusing to disappear entirely. You scrub harder, the rough texture of the paper towels adding to your frustration. After a few minutes, the stain fades slightly, the color no longer as glaring as before.

You toss the soggy paper towels into the trash with a sigh of defeat, inspecting the faint brown shadow that still mars your top. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, resigning yourself to your less-than-pristine appearance. Moving to the hand dryer, you press the button and hold your shirt away from your body, letting the warm blast of air dry the damp fabric.

You let the hand dryer hum for another minute, the hot air doing its best to dry the wet fabric of your shirt. It’s still slightly damp when you decide to give up and leave the bathroom. The faint shadow of the stain remains, but you’ve done all you can. With a sigh, you smooth the fabric down and push the door open, exiting into the social minefield.

As you make your way back to the booth, the familiar knot of unease tightens in your stomach. It’s not just Josh at the booth anymore. The entire group is back now, including Quinn—and Kaylee, of course. They’re sitting next to each other, laughing softly at something, their heads tilted just close enough to make your chest tighten uncomfortably. Because of course they’re next to each other. Of course.

The frustration you’ve been trying to tamp down flares up again, prickling hot under your skin. You glance away, your eyes threatening to roll before you can stop them. But it’s as if Quinn has some sixth sense for your mood, because the second you look back, his gaze locks onto yours.

He smiles at first, the kind of warm, easy smile that usually makes your heart flutter. But then his eyes drop to your shirt, the faint stain still visible against the white fabric, and his expression shifts to one of confusion.

“What happened to your shirt?” he asks, his voice cutting through the chatter as he abandons his conversation. He slides a little further into the booth, making room for you to take your usual seat on the end.

You approach the table, sitting down a little harder than you intended. The irritation bubbling beneath the surface sharpens your tone, and when you finally respond, it comes out rougher than you’d meant. “What do you think happened?”

Quinn blinks, visibly taken aback by the edge in your voice. His eyebrows shoot up briefly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. The silence that follows feels heavy, the casual buzz of the bar suddenly too loud in contrast.

Quinn leans slightly closer, his voice softer now, careful, his breath hitting against your ear. "Are you okay?"

You exhale a long sigh, the weight of the evening pressing down on you as you lean into his side. The familiar warmth of his presence wraps around you, grounding you in a way that words can’t. “I’m fine,” you murmur softly. “Sorry for snapping at you.”

Quinn doesn’t hesitate, his arm slipping casually over your shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He presses a kiss against your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a brief moment.

“It’s okay,” he replies, his voice low, just for you to hear.

For the next little while, you sit in the booth, letting the conversation flow around you. Quinn dives back into catching up with his friends, his laughter easy and unguarded as he shares stories and memories you’re only half-listening to.

You chime in occasionally when someone calls your name, offering a small smile or a quick reply. But mostly, you let yourself fade into the background, content to simply exist beside Quinn. His arm remains draped over your shoulder, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your arm.

“…double date, right?”

You only catch the tail end of the sentence, your mind still drifting when you feel Quinn give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. The touch pulls you back to the moment, your eyes blinking as you try to focus.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, glancing around the table.

The group erupts into light laughter, the kind that feels good-natured rather than mocking. Quinn leans in slightly, his smile soft but amused as he repeats himself. “A double date. You’d be down for that, right?”

“Oh, uh… sure,” you reply, nodding quickly before the words have fully sunk in. Your gaze shifts between the faces at the table, suddenly feeling as though you’ve missed an important detail. “With who?”

Quinn’s smile widens, and there’s a playful gleam in his eyes. “Kaylee,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your mouth falls open slightly, caught completely off guard by the response. You blink, turning your attention to Kaylee, who’s sipping her drink with an easy grace. “You… have a boyfriend?” you manage to ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Kaylee lets out a light, melodic giggle, setting her glass down on the table. “Soon-to-be fiancé,” she corrects, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. “At least, once he grows a pair and actually proposes.” She laughs again, shaking her head. “He’s working late tonight, so he couldn’t make it.”

Her words hit you like a freight train. Fiancé? Working late? You feel your stomach drop as the realization sinks in. All of your jealousy is baseless. Kaylee wasn’t flirting with Quinn; she wasn’t even remotely interested in him that way.

She had a boyfriend. Soon to be fiancé.

Heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks, the embarrassment washing over you like a tidal wave. You manage a small smile, but inwardly, you’re cringing so hard you wish the ground would swallow you whole. "Yeah, that'd be fun, for sure."

The next couple of hours fly by in a blur, and before you know it, everyone is saying their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and promises to meet up again soon. The warm glow of the bar’s lights spills out onto the sidewalk as you and Quinn step outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

It’s dark now, and a light drizzle begins to fall, the raindrops cool and soft as they dot your clothes. You glance at each other and break into a jog toward the car. By the time you reach it, the rain has picked up, turning from a drizzle into a steady downpour. You barely make it inside before the skies seem to open up, the sound of rain pelting against the roof filling the silence as Quinn starts the engine.

“Well, that was close,” he mutters with a small laugh, brushing the dampness from his sleeves before backing out of the parking spot.

The car is warm, the faint scent of Quinn’s cologne lingering in the air as he drives through the quiet streets. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence, the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the windshield almost hypnotic.

Then, his voice cuts through the quiet. ���What was up tonight? You were quieter than usual.”

The question catches you off guard, but you quickly shake your head, hoping to dismiss it. “Nothing,” you say.

Quinn glances at you briefly, his expression skeptical even as he keeps his focus on the road. “I know you,” he says evenly. “And I know it’s not nothing, so just tell me.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to look out the window. The rain blurs the city lights into streaks of gold and white, a beautiful distraction from the conversation you’d rather not have. “Quinn, I’m serious. It’s nothing,” you insist, your voice firmer this time.

He presses his lips together, his jaw tightening slightly. “Was it something I did?” he asks after a moment, his voice softer now, tinged with concern.

“No,” you reply quickly, shaking your head.

“Then what is it?” he presses again, his tone patient but persistent.

Your chest tightens, the question hanging in the air between you. It’s not that you don’t want to tell him—it’s just that you don’t even know how to put your feelings into words. The jealousy, the self-doubt, the small spiral you’d gone through earlier tonight—it all feels so petty now, so insignificant in hindsight. And yet, the weight of it still lingers, sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You sigh, leaning your head against the cool glass of the window. "Just drop it."

At your words, Quinn pulls the car onto a quiet side street, the tires crunching over loose gravel before coming to a halt. He shifts the gear into park with a resolute click, his jaw tightening.

You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?” you demand, your voice edged with confusion.

He leans back in his seat, shrugging nonchalantly, though his eyes betray his concern. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Quinn, I told you—it’s nothing,” you snap, the irritation bubbling to the surface. Your arms cross tightly over your chest, a defensive shield against his relentless prodding.

He shakes his head, undeterred. “And I know you’re lying.”

A frustrated sigh escapes you, sharp and heavy. “You know what? Fine.” You unbuckle your seatbelt with a jerky motion, the click echoing in the small space. “I’ll walk home.”

Before Quinn can respond, you fling the door open and step into the storm. The frigid rain pelts down, soaking through your clothes almost instantly. The dirt road beneath your feet churns into sticky mud, clinging to your shoes as you march away, your defiance burning hotter than the cold seeping into your skin.

“Y/N!” Quinn shouts from the car, his voice cutting through the rain like a lifeline you refuse to grab. When you don’t stop, he curses under his breath. You hear the unmistakable sound of his seatbelt unclicking and the slam of his door.

The rain muffles his footsteps, but you know he’s chasing after you. “Y/N, wait!” he calls, urgency threading through his voice. You don’t slow, your pace quickening despite the mud threatening to pull you down.

“Y/N!” Quinn’s voice grows closer, and you finally halt, spinning around with enough force to startle him. He skids to a stop, but momentum carries him forward, and he stumbles into you. His hands instinctively reach out, gripping your arms to steady you both.

“You want to know what’s wrong, Quinn?” you snap, your voice trembling with more than just the chill. Rain streaks down your face, mingling with the tears you can no longer hide. “I’m embarrassed, okay?”

His hands drop, and for a moment, he just looks at you, water dripping from his lashes and the ends of his messy hair. “Embarrassed?” he repeats, his voice soft, almost incredulous.

You wipe at your eyes with a trembling hand, though the rain makes the gesture futile. “Yeah, embarrassed,” you admit, your voice barely audible over the steady drumming of rain. You look down, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought Kaylee had a thing for you.”

Quinn blinks, clearly taken aback. “I—you what?” he stammers, his brows knitting together in confusion.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cold rain. “I thought she liked you,” you repeat, more firmly this time, though the words still sting as they leave your mouth. “But she has a boyfriend, so obviously she doesn’t.”

“She’s just a friend from college,” Quinn says, his voice steady, as if the explanation should settle everything.

You nod, but it feels hollow. “I know.”

“And even if she was single,” he continues, stepping closer, “I’m not.”

His words make you glance up despite yourself. The weight in his gaze pins you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

“I have a girlfriend,” he says, his tone softening but no less resolute. “A girlfriend who makes me chase after her in a rainstorm in the middle of the night.”

The corners of his lips tug upward into a faint smile, though there’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. Your heart twists at the realization—you’d been so caught up in your own doubts that you hadn’t stopped to consider how much he’d already chosen you.

The rain pours around you, but the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning.

“Quinn—” Your voice falters. You search for the right thing to say, something that can express the tangle of emotions inside you. Embarrassment. Relief. Gratitude. "I usually never get jealous like this. I'm sorry."

Quinn’s expression softens as he reaches up, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The rain pelts in a steady, rhythmic drizzle around you, the droplets catching the light from the streetlamp above, creating a soft halo that bathes you both in a muted glow. He smiles, not in the least bit fazed, his eyes warm and reassuring.

"It's okay," he says simply, as if it's no big deal, his tone so calm, so easy, that it almost makes you feel like your jealousy was nothing at all.

"Quinn, I'm serious," you say, your brows knitting together as you try to convey just how sorry you truly were.

"Baby, it’s okay," he repeats, his voice low and full of understanding. "We all get jealous sometimes," he continues, his fingers now gently brushing your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your skin as if he’s trying to soothe away the tension. "I just ask that next time, you talk to me about it, okay? I want to know how you're feeling."

His words are earnest, leaving no room for doubt. He’s not upset, just asking for honesty—asking for you to trust him with those feelings. And that, more than anything, makes your heart soften.

You nod, the weight of your earlier emotions starting to ease. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn’s smile deepens, a mixture of relief and affection in his eyes as he gazes down at you. He reaches out, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your damp cheeks, wiping away the raindrops that have begun to cling to your skin. Then, without another word, he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

The world around you seems to fade as his mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate, his lips warm and soft despite the chill of the rain. The kiss is intense, full of emotion, as if he’s pouring everything he feels into it—the reassurance, the love, the unspoken promise that he’s here for you, and only you. Your arms find their way around his neck, pulling him closer, and in that moment, the jealousy, the embarrassment—it all melts away, washed clean by the feeling of his lips on yours.

The rain continues to fall, droplets dancing off the pavement, but all you can feel is him—the solid warmth of his body against yours, the softness of his hands cradling your face. The streetlight above flickers softly, casting the two of you in a golden glow, making the moment feel like something out of a dream, something ethereal and untouchable.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests gently against yours, and for a moment, you just stand there, catching your breath, your hearts beating in sync.

Quinn looks into your eyes, his gaze steady and full of love. "And for the record," he says, his voice low and serious but with a teasing lilt at the end, "I don’t want anyone else. You’re stuck with me, okay? Deal with it."

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips, the tension fully gone now, replaced by warmth and affection. The way he says it—so matter-of-fact, so confident—makes your heart swell. You shake your head, smiling as you look up at him, the rain continuing to fall around you both, but in this moment, you’re completely lost in each other.

"I love you," you whisper, your fingers threading through the damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for another kiss, this one softer but just as full of meaning.

[na0koz]

HIII

Your thoughts on S/O reader meeting jinx’s family (vander, vi, mylo and claggor if they’re alive, etc) and how that would go?

helloo ty for the req, i just included vi and vander in this. hope that’s ok! though, i feel like i didn’t really tap into jinx’s toxic-ness in this, just her pretending to hate vi and acting like a teenager. sorry u guys.

toxic!jinx masterlist

vi had accidentally let slip to vander that jinx had met someone over their ‘family dinner’ (jinx really hated when vander called it that, it’s just dinner).

since then, vander had been pestering jinx for weeks trying to get her to bring you round to one of these stupid dinners. she shut him down every time saying you were busy. you definitely weren’t, vi could guess that much. she’s been here before, with her ex.

finally, jinx agrees to bring you over for dinner.

jinx tells vander what you like to eat, in a strange amount of detail, and he cooks it. he can’t say he’s not trying to make a good impression on you.

she decides it’s best for her to go pick you up from your apartment, and once you reach the front door, she grabs your wrist as your reach for the doorknob. “my family is weird, okay. just like, ignore whatever they say. about me.”

her grip on your wrist is tight, and her gaze steady. you can tell jinx is nervous.

“it’s okay, baby. i’m sure they’re not weird,” you reassure her.

she furrows her brows slightly. she’s having second thoughts on this, maybe you should just go home. jinx is pulled from her thoughts when the front door swings open and she sees her sister standing on the mat in front of the door.

“why are you just standing here? looks real weird, y’know,” the pink haired girl says as she leans on the frame.

“ugh, shut up, vi.” jinx says in a lowered tone, one that already sounds annoyed. she pushes past her sister and drags you inside, still gripping your wrist.

as you take off your shoes and hang up your coat, you hear a gruff voice from above you.

“i’m vi. nice to, uh.. meet you.”

you smile up at the unfamiliar face and introduce yourself in return. then you hear jinx scoffing and saying something along the lines of “get off me!” as you look over to see who must be her dad taking his hands off her shoulders while chuckling.

“hey. i’m vander, p- jinx’s dad, it’s nice to finally meet you.” he smiles a warm smile, one which you reciprocate. you wonder what he was about to say before he said jinx’s name, but you think it’s best to leave it when you look over to jinx and see her giving vander a mean look.

-

dinner was finally ready and you go to sit at the table. vi usually sits next to jinx, but jinx runs to the table to kick vi out of the way so you could sit in her place. vi sighs and sits opposite her while vander laughs to himself, setting dishes over the table.

the four of you eat in silence for a bit, before vi pipes up with a smirk on her face.

“you’re literally the only thing jinx talks about, y’know.”

jinx exclaims. “huh?!! not true! bitch.” she kicks vi as hard as she can.

vi kicks her back. “you’re the bitch, stealing money out of my wallet to buy god knows what.”

“i did not!” jinx stands up from her seat. you swear her eyes flash a hot pink when she gets worked up.

“girls.” vander intervenes, “sorry, [name].”

you tell him it’s okay and giggle into your food.

jinx turns to you and tells you that vi is totally lying and you shouldn’t believe anything she says, that she’s a pathological liar.

“uh huh,” you nod, side eyeing vi with a grin as jinx flops back down into her chair. you know it’s hers because it has her name carved into it, along with some pink and blue paint splotches. it’s no secret how possessive she is.

you all continue eating while chatting and getting to know each other, vi and jinx occasionally at each other’s necks as you and vander give each other apologetic looks.

a few hours pass, and you’re getting ready to leave what you deem a successful meet-the-family while pulling your shoes on. jinx is doing the same.

“aww sis, you’re not staying over?” vi says sarcastically, dodging a kick from jinx.

“nope. i’d rather be with [name] than you two fuckers.”

“language, missy,” vander chimes in from the kitchen as he finishes up the last of the cleaning before making his way into the hall to see you off.

“just ‘cus you’re in loooove with her,” vi sings, shoving jinx’s shoulder. she’s stepped over the line now, and jinx practically pounces on her, pulling her hair and smacking her.

vander mutters to himself and pulls jinx off her sister by the back of her jacket, much to her dismay. (“get the fuck off me!”)

she scoffs and pulls her other boot on, while you giggle to vi who was brushing herself off.

“it was nice to meet you.”

“you too, vander. thank you for dinner,” you smile.

jinx reaches for your hand and the doorknob simultaneously. “yeah, yeah. whatever.” she pulls you out of the house and very nearly slams the door behind her.

she sighs hard and slumps onto your shoulder as the two of you start to walk home.

“i did not like that.”

“yeah, i could tell,” you laugh.

[rvp32]

One Step at a Time

 Mina is an idol, a princess, and an enigma. She was a star that burned brightly in the sky but always just out of your reach. She was a beauty like none other, like an angel who had descended onto Earth. She was your best friend, with whom you shared everything—everything except the one secret you kept hidden because you were scared of ruining the friendship you cherished the most.

“Mina, we need to leave soon. The music video shoot will start in a bit,” you reminded her as you finished packing some necessities.

Mina emerged from her room, her radiant smile lighting up the space. “Yes! Just one sec, I need to grab my Switch from the console,” she said, heading to the TV.

You watched her with a mixture of admiration and longing. She was effortlessly graceful, her every movement a dance, every glance a spark of life. Being her manager had its challenges, but the hardest part was hiding your feelings. You admired her from afar, cherishing every moment you spent together, yet always mindful of the line you couldn’t cross.

As Mina gathered her things, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for another day of keeping your emotions in check. You loved her dearly, more than she could ever know. The way her eyes sparkled with excitement, her laugh that could brighten the darkest day, her unwavering dedication to her craft—every aspect of her drew you in deeper.

Your mind drifted back to the countless nights you’d spent talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between. She was your confidante, your muse, your everything. But you were just her manager, her best friend, the one who was always there but never close enough.

“Got it! Let’s go,” Mina called out, breaking your reverie. She flashed you a smile, and your heart ached with the weight of your unspoken words.

As you made your way to the car, you stole glances at her, committing every detail to memory. The way her hair caught the light, the subtle scent of her perfume, the way her eyes twinkled with anticipation. Each detail was a precious fragment of the person you loved but could never claim.

“How are you feeling today? Are you ready for the shoot?” you asked, occasionally stealing glances at Mina through the rearview mirror.

“Yes! Thanks to you I got some much-needed rest. If you hadn’t taken my Switch, I might have ended up playing the entire night,” Mina said with a playful smile.

You chuckled. “Well, someone has to look out for you. You know how you get with those games.”

“I do, I do. And you’re always there to keep me in check,” she replied, her tone affectionate. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You felt a pang in your chest but kept your voice light. “Probably pull a few all-nighters and show up to shoots with panda eyes.”

Mina laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “True! And then you’d have to deal with a grumpy, sleep-deprived me. Not a pretty sight.”

“Hey, I’ve seen you at your worst, and you still look like an angel,” you said before you could stop yourself.

She blushed slightly, looking out the window. “You’re too kind. Really.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, filled with the hum of the car and the city sounds outside. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your unspoken feelings settle back into place.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today’s shoot?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It’s the final scenes for the music video. Lots of choreography, some close-ups. The director wants to capture that ‘ethereal princess’ vibe you do so well,” you explained.

Mina nodded, her excitement palpable. “I love those kinds of shoots. They’re always so magical.”

“And you make it look effortless,” you added, your admiration clear.

She glanced at you through the mirror, her eyes soft. “I have a good team behind me. Especially you.”

Your heart swelled with emotion. “Just doing my job.”

“More than just your job,” she said quietly. “You’re always there for me, in ways I can’t even begin to describe.”

You swallowed hard, the intensity of your feelings threatening to spill over. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” she echoed, her voice filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

*****

The shoot went smoothly, finishing no later than late afternoon, much faster than scheduled due to Mina’s professionalism.

“Good work, Mina! You were amazing out there!” you complimented her.

“Thank you! I’m so tired,” Mina said, walking toward you to grab the drink you were holding.

“So, what else is on the schedule for today?” she asked, sipping her drink.

“You have group practice coming up later this evening, and by 8 p.m., you should be done and free to go home,” you informed her.

“Yay! I can’t believe I’m getting out so early today!” Mina cheered.

******

Later, you drove her to the JYP Entertainment building. Mina was in high spirits, humming along to the radio as you navigated through the city traffic. Upon arriving, she waved at a few familiar faces and headed towards the practice rooms.

As you walked down the hallway, Mina spotted Hyunjin from Stray Kids. He was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. When he saw Mina, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“Noona! Great to see you,” Hyunjin greeted, straightening up.

“Hey, Hyunjin! It’s been a while,” Mina replied, returning the smile.

The two of them chatted for a bit, catching up on their busy schedules. You watched them interact, noting the easy camaraderie between them. They laughed and teased each other, the conversation flowing naturally. At one point, Hyunjin playfully ruffled Mina’s hair, and she swatted his hand away, giggling.

“You’re always messing up my hair,” she complained, but her tone was light and affectionate.

“Just keeping you on your toes,” Hyunjin teased back.

The moment was sweet, a reminder of the strong bonds formed within the industry. You felt a pang of jealousy but quickly brushed it aside. Mina’s happiness was what mattered most.

“I’ve got to head to group practice now,” Mina said, glancing at the time. “Catch you later, Hyunjin!”

“Good luck!” Hyunjin called out as she turned to leave.

Mina walked over to you, her smile still lingering from the interaction. “Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” you replied, leading her to the practice room.

Inside, the other members were already warming up. Mina joined them, her focus shifting seamlessly to the task at hand. You watched from the sidelines, admiring her dedication and skill. She moved with a grace that was both powerful and effortless, her presence commanding the room.

As practice continued, you kept an eye on the time, making sure everything stayed on schedule. Mina’s energy never wavered, her passion for performing evident in every move. You felt a swell of pride, knowing that you played a small part in supporting her journey.

When the clock struck 8 p.m., practice wrapped up. The group exchanged a few words of encouragement before heading out. Mina approached you, her face flushed with exertion but glowing with satisfaction.

“All done for the day,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice.

“Great job today, Mina. You were incredible,” you praised.

“Thanks to you,” she replied softly.

You smiled, your heart full. “Ready to go home?”

“You go on and head home, Hyunjin wanted to grab some food so I am going to meet with him and have him drop me home,” Mina says 

Hearing Mina’s gratitude made your heart swell, but it also brought a sharp pang of longing. A part of you wanted to stop her from going, to hold her back and keep her close, but you knew you had no right to do that. Being powerless in this situation, you could do nothing but nod and say, “Okay, good night, be careful!”

She gave you a warm smile. “Good night. See you tomorrow!”

You watched her walk away, every step pulling her further from you. The ache in your chest grew, but you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within.

After Mina left, you made your way to your office to pack up. The room felt emptier than usual, the silence almost suffocating. You gathered your things, trying to focus on the tasks at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to Mina. The image of her smiling face, and her gentle words, lingered in your thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of what you could never have.

As you headed home, you took a detour through the parking lot. That’s when you saw them—Mina and Hyunjin. They were standing by his car, talking animatedly. Then, to your dismay, Hyunjin pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back, her expression relaxed and happy.

A wave of jealousy crashed over you, raw and intense. You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white. The helplessness you felt was overwhelming, the realization that you had no place at that moment, no right to feel this way, cutting deep.

Mina and Hyunjin broke apart, and she got into his car. You watched as they drove away, the taillights disappearing into the night. The sense of loss was almost tangible, a hollow ache that settled in your chest.

When you finally arrived home, the emptiness of your apartment felt even more pronounced. You dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. The events of the evening played over and over in your mind, each memory tinged with longing and regret.

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, but they persisted. The sight of Mina and Hyunjin together, the easy affection between them—it was a stark reminder of everything you couldn’t have. The love you felt for her, unspoken and unrequited, weighed heavily on your heart.

Reaching for your phone, you scrolled through the photos you had taken during the shoot. Each picture was a testament to Mina’s beauty and talent, but also a painful reminder of the distance between you. You lingered on one photo, in particular, a candid shot of her laughing. It was a moment of pure joy, unguarded and real. You wished you could be the one to make her laugh like that, to share in her happiness in a way that went beyond friendship.

But you knew it was a dream, a fantasy that would never come true. Loving Mina from afar was all you had, and it had to be enough. You had to accept that.

******

This was the last music show Twice would be on for this comeback. The comeback had gone exceptionally well, with the group winning numerous awards. After this final performance, all the members were given some well-deserved free time to relax and enjoy themselves. As everyone waited in the dressing room, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and excitement.

You were busy making sure everything was in order when Hyunjin appeared at the door, carrying bags of food and drinks. He wore a bright smile, his presence immediately lifting the already jubilant mood.

“Hey everyone! I brought some snacks and drinks to celebrate your amazing comeback!” Hyunjin announced, his voice full of enthusiasm.

The members of Twice cheered, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. “Hyunjin! Thank you so much!” they chorused, crowding around him to take the treats.

You watched as Hyunjin handed out the food and drinks, your eyes inevitably drawn to Mina. She accepted a drink with a grateful smile, and then, to your dismay, Hyunjin made a beeline for her. They began chatting animatedly, their laughter filling the room.

You tried to focus on your tasks, but your attention kept drifting back to them. The way Hyunjin leaned in slightly when he spoke, the way Mina’s eyes sparkled with genuine happiness—each detail stoked the fire of jealousy burning in your chest.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mina gently touch Hyunjin’s arm, her gesture full of warmth and familiarity. It was a small act of affection, but it cut deeply. You felt powerless, standing there with your heart aching and your mind racing.

Trying to shake off the feelings, you busied yourself with organizing the room, making sure everyone had what they needed. But the image of Mina and Hyunjin together was seared into your mind.

Finally, you stepped outside for a moment, needing some air. The hallway was quieter, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions. You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

******

It had been two weeks since the holidays started, and as of today, it was the eighth time you were driving Mina to meet with Hyunjin. Each time hurt just as much as the first, and you had finally decided that this would be the last. You had asked to be transferred to a different department, and today you would tell Mina about it.

The drive was quiet, the air filled with unspoken tension. You stole a glance at Mina, who was looking out the window, a small smile playing on her lips. It made your heart ache, knowing this was the last time you’d be doing this.

When you arrived at the café where Hyunjin was waiting, you parked the car and turned to Mina. “Mina, can we talk for a moment before you go in?”

She looked at you, her smile fading slightly. “Sure, what’s up?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I’ve asked to be transferred to a different department.”

Mina’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why?”

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice even. “I think it’s time for a change. I’ve been with you and the group for a long time, and I feel like it’s time to explore new opportunities within the company.”

“But… I need you,” Mina said softly, her eyes searching yours. “You’ve always been there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart clenched at her words, but you pushed forward. “You’ll be fine, Mina. You’re strong and talented, and you have a great team to support you. It’s not like I’ll be gone completely; I’ll just be in a different department.”

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I guess… I just didn’t expect this. It feels sudden.”

“I know,” you said gently. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It’s not an easy decision, but I believe it’s the right one for both of us.”

Mina took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “If this is what you want, then I won’t stop you. But I’ll miss you. A lot.”

You smiled, trying to hide your pain. “I’ll miss you too, Mina. More than you know. But this isn’t goodbye forever. We’ll still see each other around.”

She reached out and took your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. And if you ever need anything, you’ll let me know?”

“I promise,” you said, squeezing her hand back. “You take care of yourself too. And keep being the amazing person you are.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your hand lingering for a moment before she let go. “I should go. Hyunjin’s waiting.”

You nodded, watching as she got out of the car and walked towards the café. As she greeted Hyunjin with a warm smile and a hug, you felt the familiar pang of jealousy and heartache. But you knew this was the right decision, for both of you.

****** 

The next few weeks had been the worst. No matter what you did, you always thought about Mina, missing her laugh and her silly conversations. You knew it was for the best to avoid her because you needed to get over your feelings for her. So you drowned yourself in work, starting a new project on the production team for a new music video. All you did was eat, work, and sleep, not going out or even meeting with any of your friends.

One night, just as you were about to sleep, the doorbell rang. To your surprise, it was Jihyo. She was one of the other members you were close to.

“Hey, what is this I’m hearing? Are you no longer Mina’s manager?” she questioned.

“Yeah, it’s been a few weeks since I was transferred. Did she not tell you?” you replied coldly, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“She did, but the reason you gave her makes absolutely no sense. I know you, and you would never leave Mina, no matter how bored you got with the work. Otherwise, you would have never been her manager. So tell me, what is the real reason you left?” Jihyo asked her tone firm yet concerned.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “Jihyo, it’s complicated. I... I have feelings for Mina. And it was getting too hard to be around her, especially when she’s spending so much time with Hyunjin.”

Jihyo���s eyes softened with understanding. “Oh, I see. But from what I can see I don’t think they are dating. He’s been supportive during her comeback, but I don’t think there’s anything more than that.”

You shook your head, the pain still fresh. “It doesn’t matter. I needed to distance myself. It was too painful watching them together, even if they were just friends. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine.”

Jihyo looked at you thoughtfully. “I get it. But you know, Mina misses you. She’s been asking about you a lot. She doesn’t understand why you left so suddenly.”

“She’ll be fine, Jihyo. She has you and the rest of the group to support her,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

Jihyo sighed. “You’re right, but it’s not the same. You were always there for her, more than just a manager. She needs you, even if she doesn’t realize it.”

“I appreciate you coming here, Jihyo, but I’ve made my decision. I can’t go back. It’s too much,” you said, your voice filled with resignation.

Jihyo nodded slowly, seeing the determination in your eyes. “Alright. But if you ever change your mind, know that we’re here for you. And if you need to talk, about anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot,” you replied, feeling a small sense of relief from her understanding.

After Jihyo left, you thought a lot about what she said and how much you missed all the other girls. Realizing how your decision had affected not just Mina but also the rest of the members with whom you were close, you began to reconsider. Though you were busy with work, the occasional messages from them reminded you of the bond you shared.

A few months passed since your conversation with Jihyo. After the shooting of the music video and the comeback schedule finished, you were promoted to the head manager of Twice. It wasn't something you were particularly excited about, but the significant pay rise made it an offer you couldn't refuse. Still, you knew it was going to be challenging.

Not long after your promotion, you found out that Mina was dating Hyunjin. The news hit you hard, but you chose to ignore it and focused on your work. It was painful, but you buried yourself in your new responsibilities, determined to make the best of the situation.

Despite your busy schedule, you found solace in spending time with Jihyo. Whenever the two of you had free time, you would hang out and talk about various things, with golf being a frequent topic of conversation. Jihyo had insisted you try it, and to your surprise, you found it quite enjoyable.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day, Jihyo invited you to the driving range. "Come on, you need a break. Let’s hit some balls and unwind," she said, her tone light and encouraging.

You smiled, grateful for her persistence. "Alright, Jihyo. Lead the way."

As you both practiced your swings, the conversation flowed easily. Jihyo’s laughter and positive energy were infectious, helping you forget your troubles, even if just for a little while.

"So, how are you holding up with all the new responsibilities?" Jihyo asked, adjusting her stance.

"It's been a lot, but I'm managing," you replied, taking a swing. "I just try to stay focused on the work and not think too much about... other things."

Jihyo nodded, understanding. "I know it’s tough, but you’re doing great. We all appreciate everything you do for us."

Her words brought warmth to your heart. "Thanks, Jihyo. That means a lot."

As the sun began to set, you both sat down on a bench, enjoying the peaceful evening. "You know," Jihyo said thoughtfully, "I'm really glad we’ve been spending more time together. It’s nice having someone to talk to about things outside of work."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it’s been good for me too. I’ve needed the distraction."

Jihyo smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, anytime you need to vent or just hang out, I’m here. We’re all in this together, right?"

"Right," you agreed, feeling a sense of camaraderie and support that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

*******

Walking through the halls after taking a few printouts, you were suddenly pulled into a room. "Oh my god! What the fuck?" you screamed out of surprise.

It was even more shocking because it was Mina, who you hadn’t spoken to about anything other than work since you came back as the head manager. “Oh Mina, what happened? Is anything wrong?” you asked, trying to be professional despite your racing heart.

Mina’s eyes flashed with a mixture of emotions. “What’s wrong? You tell me! Ever since you came back, you’ve been avoiding me. You spend all your time with Jihyo now. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Mina, it’s not like that. I’m just trying to do my job and—”

“Do your job? You barely even look at me anymore! We used to be so close, and now it’s like I don’t even exist to you unless it’s about work,” she interrupted, her voice rising.

“Mina, please understand. I needed some distance. It’s not personal,” you explained, your voice gentle but firm.

“Not personal? It feels pretty personal to me!” she shot back, her frustration clear. “I see you laughing and talking with Jihyo all the time. Why can’t you be like that with me?”

You sighed, struggling to find the right words. “Mina, it’s complicated. You have Hyunjin now, and I—”

Mina cut you off, her eyes narrowing. “What does Hyunjin have to do with this? This is about us. Our friendship.”

Before you could respond, she stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. “I miss you. I miss us,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Your heart ached at her words, but you knew you had to stay strong. “Mina, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you too. But things are different now.”

Her eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination. “Why can’t we go back to the way things were?”

As you tried to explain, she suddenly leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a brief, impulsive kiss. Shocked, you gently pushed her away, your heart pounding. “Mina, you can’t do this. You’re with Hyunjin.”

Mina stepped back, her face a mask of confusion and hurt. “I—I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “It’s okay, but we can’t do this. You need to figure out what you want.”

Mina nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I just… I don’t understand why this is happening. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not losing me, Mina. I’m still here, just in a different way,” you said softly. “But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin.”

She wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “You’re right. I’m sorry for putting you in this position.” 

She left you alone in the room, and you collapsed to the ground. Kissing Mina was something you had always dreamed about, but somehow this wasn’t how you wanted it to be. It was overwhelming because you wanted nothing more than to give in to your desire, kiss her, and enjoy every single second of it. You wanted to hold her close and never let her go, but you knew this was something impulsive. Mina was confused, and at the end of the day, she would go back to her boyfriend.

Sitting there on the cold floor, you buried your face in your hands, trying to calm your racing heart. The weight of the situation bore down on you, and the reality of your feelings hit you harder than ever before.

After a few moments, you managed to pull yourself together and stood up, taking a deep breath. You knew you had to stay focused and professional, even if it felt like your heart was breaking.

As you walked back to your office, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The memory of her lips on yours was vivid, but you pushed it aside, knowing that dwelling on it would only make things worse. You had a job to do, and you needed to be strong.

Over the next few days, she kept her distance from you. You coordinated schedules, managed logistics, and ensured everything ran smoothly for Twice’s upcoming projects. The busyness helped to distract you, but it couldn't erase the ache in your chest.

During one of your breaks, you found yourself sitting with Jihyo in the practice room. She noticed the tired look in your eyes and gave you a concerned glance. “You okay? You seem a bit off lately.”

You forced a smile, not wanting to burden her with your troubles. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Does this have anything to do with Mina?”

Her perceptiveness caught you off guard, and you sighed, unable to hide the truth from her. “Yeah, we had a bit of a... moment the other day. It’s complicated.”

Jihyo frowned, leaning closer. “What happened?”

You hesitated but then decided to share. “She kissed me. It was impulsive, and I know she’s confused. I had to push her away because she was with Hyunjin. But it’s been eating me up inside.”

Jihyo’s expression softened with understanding. “That’s tough. But you did the right thing. She needs to figure out her feelings, and you can’t let yourself get caught up in that mess.”

“I know,” you said, your voice heavy with resignation. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Jihyo reached out and squeezed your hand. “Hang in there. Focus on the positive things, like our golf sessions. You’ve been improving a lot, you know.”

You chuckled and she hugged you, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot to me to know that I have 

Jihyo smiled warmly. “And remember, you’re not alone. We’re all here for you. Don’t be afraid to lean on us when you need to.” 

You didn’t let go of Jihyo for a few minutes because it felt calming, but that wasn’t the best idea. Mina walked into the room and saw it, her face contorting with fury. Not caring about anything else, Mina stormed towards you, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. Her grip was tight, her nails digging into your skin.

“Mina, stop! Where are you taking him?” Jihyo screamed, panic in her voice.

“Jihyo, stay out of this!” Mina screamed back, her voice echoing through the room. It was rare to hear Mina that loud, and Jihyo, shocked, decided to let you both figure it out yourselves.

Mina dragged you into an empty room down the hall, slamming the door shut behind her. She let go of your hand, and you rubbed the red marks left by her nails. "Mina, what the hell? What's going on?" you demanded, trying to keep your anger in check.

"What's going on?" Mina shot back, her eyes blazing. "You tell me! I walk in, and I see you all cozy with Jihyo. What am I supposed to think?"

"Mina, Jihyo was just trying to comfort me," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "We're friends. That's all."

"Friends? You think I don't see what's going on?" she yelled, her voice breaking. "You’ve been avoiding me, spending all your time with Jihyo. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"How it makes you feel?" you echoed incredulously. "Mina, you're the one who kissed me and then went back to Hyunjin like nothing happened! How do you think I feel?"

She flinched at your words, tears welling up in her eyes. "I... I don't know. I was confused. I still am. But seeing you with her... it hurts."

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Mina, I’ve been trying to deal with my feelings. It’s hard seeing you with Hyunjin, knowing I can't be with you the way I want to be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you."

She stepped closer, her voice trembling. "I miss you. I miss us. I don't know what to do with these feelings, but I can’t stand seeing you with someone else."

You felt a pang of guilt and longing, but you knew you had to stay strong. "Mina, you need to figure out what you want. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, to Hyunjin, or me. It's not fair to any of us."

She looked down, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

You reached out, gently lifting her chin so she could meet your gaze. "It’s okay to be confused, Mina. But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin. Only then can we figure out what comes next."

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I will. I promise."

It was an improvement because there was some hope for you and Mina, as she was feeling something similar to what you were! But it was still confusing, and you needed time to think, especially after all that had just happened. You called in sick and left the set immediately, deciding to grab a drink to cool down a little.

You found a quiet bar a few blocks away and took a seat in a dimly lit corner. The bartender approached, and you ordered a drink, hoping it would help settle your racing thoughts. As you took your first sip, the events of the past few weeks replayed in your mind. The kiss, Mina’s outburst, the tension, and the hope of something more—it was all too much to process.

The bar was relatively empty, the low hum of conversations and soft music providing a comforting backdrop. You nursed your drink, trying to make sense of your feelings. Mina's confession had given you hope, but her confusion and the reality of her relationship with Hyunjin kept you grounded.

After a couple of drinks, you went home and eventually crashed.

It was the weekend, and you had no plans whatsoever. Planning to drown yourself in alcohol and play games the entire day, you settled into a routine of indulgence and distraction. Eventually, you fell asleep again in front of the TV, watching some stupid videos. You were woken up by a sudden knock on the door. Groggily walking to the door, disheveled, you opened it to find none other than the one woman in this entire world you were trying to avoid.

“Mina.”

She stood there, looking almost as disheveled as you felt, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of determination and hesitation. "Hey," she said softly, biting her lower lip.

"Hey," you replied, unable to hide your surprise and confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then stepped aside, letting her enter. The room was a mess, a testament to your recent attempts at distraction, and Mina took it all in with a concerned glance.

"I didn’t know where else to go," she admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about. About us."

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the fog of alcohol. "Mina, I don’t know if this is the best time..."

"I know," she interrupted, her eyes pleading. "But I can't keep avoiding this. Avoiding you. We need to talk."

You sighed, gesturing for her to sit down. "Okay, let’s talk." 

Just as you were about to turn around to get her some water, she grabbed you and pulled you into a kiss and yet again you pushed her away. 

“MINA!” You screamed. 

"I ended things with Hyunjin," she began, her voice steady but her eyes filled with emotion. "It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you. I needed to be honest with myself and with you."

Your heart raced at her words, a mix of hope and fear swirling inside you. "Mina, that’s a big step. But where does that leave us?"

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice trembling. "All I know is that I miss you. I miss us. And I can’t stand the thought of losing you."

You looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. "I miss you too, Mina. But this is complicated. We can’t just pretend everything’s okay."

“Fuck complicated! I need you right now. Those kisses are so intoxicating, it's like a drug, and I can’t live without it,” Mina said, already frustrated. You could see she was trying to hold back as much as you were.

You could no longer hold back either and finally gave in, pulling Mina into you and kissing her. The kiss was so passionate, tongues dancing. Her hands freely explored your body while yours did the same, tracing every curve and line, memorizing the feeling of her against you.

"Mina," you murmured against her lips, the word a mix of desire and need.

She responded by pressing closer, deepening the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You could feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, matching your own.

As your hands roamed, exploring every inch of each other, you felt a surge of emotions. Desire, yes, but also love and longing, things you had tried to suppress for so long. You broke the kiss, both of you panting, eyes locked.

"Mina, are you sure?" you asked, needing to know she wanted this as much as you did, despite the complications.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breathless but certain. "I've never been more sure of anything."

You pulled her back into another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, savoring each second. The tension between you, built up over months, finally found release in the shared intimacy. It was like nothing else mattered but the two of you, here and now.

You carried her to the couch, your movements urgent but careful, laying her down gently. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire and trust. "I've wanted this for so long," she confessed, her voice soft.

"Me too," you admitted, leaning down to kiss her again, your hands exploring the soft skin beneath her shirt, skin as smooth as silk. She fit so perfectly in your hand. 

Your hands sneak underneath her bra, playing with her boobs, her nipples hard as a rock causing her to moan. The bra was a disturbance so you unclasp it and take it off Mina. 

“Mina you are so fucking perfect. You don’t know just how happy I am right now,” you say. Not able to contain your excitement, you bite Mina’s neck you knew it would leave a mark but you didn’t care because right now she belonged to you and no one else. 

“Ngh! Y/N slow down, it’s going to leave a mark,” Mina says as she tries to push you away. 

Pulling away from Mina you look into her eyes and say “That’s what I want. I want everyone to know that you belong to me now.”

Mina’s face turned red, “hey! Don’t say that,” Mina said as she buried her face in her hands. 

“Alright, I will do it somewhere no one can see then,” you say before you begin nibbling just above Mina’s right breast. Mina’s breasts must have been a sensitive spot for her because as you nibbled on her breast, you could hear her moan and her grip on your head tighten. 

To ensure that Mina’s other breast is equally attended, use your hand to play with the nipple. After giving her boobs the appreciation they deserved, you began to place kisses all over her body, memorizing every inch of her perfect body. She had a few moles on her body and you placed kisses on them multiple times before moving on. Mina’s moans echoed through the room as you worshipped her body. Once you reached her pants you looked up at Mina, asking for permission and she nodded, but before you took off her pants you said, “If we are going to do this then I would rather have my first time with you on a  proper bed.”

Grabbing Mina’s hand you pull her with you to the room, once you are inside, you kneel in front of her. Pulling her pants down along with her panties, placing kisses on her thighs near her but not touching it. 

The pants now discarded, Mina stood in your room naked, a scene that you never thought would become reality. Taking one of Mina’s legs you place it on your shoulder, her wet pussy on full display for you. 

“D-don’t stare,” Mina says, shy from how vulnerable she is. 

“Artwork such as this needs to be admired, baby,” you say, not noticing the endearment you had just used. Not wanting to keep her waiting, you dive into her pussy, licking it. Her pussy was delicious, something that you would never get tired of eating. 

Mina grabbed your hair, trying to keep her balance and not fall. Her moans get louder every second. The pleasure slowly took over her brain, her pussy throbbed around your fingers every time you flicked her clit. 

“CUMMINGG!” Mina screamed before squirting all over your face. Her balance was completely lost, she was leaning completely on your body and was able to stand with some help from the bed frame. 

But that balance soon gave in and she ended up falling onto the bed, recovering from her orgasm, still panting and shaking. You joined her on the bed, lying down next to her, waiting for her to come back to reality. 

“Fuck, This is the first time, I came that hard,” Mina says, after coming down from the high. 

“My turn now,” Mina says before getting up to undo your pants and get rid of them. She slowly pulls down your underwear and your dick pops out and hits Mina in the face. 

“Someone’s eager,” Mina says, grabbing your cock she starts to stroke it, slowly using her spit as the lube. After stroking it for a few seconds, she took your cock in her mouth. It was warm and just as perfect as you imagined it would be.

Mina began bobbing her head, trying her best to take more of your cock, she was struggling to take your entire length but you didn’t mind because the way she looked at you made you go feral, her look was that of someone wanting praise. 

“Fuck! Mina, I want to fuck your mouth so badly,” you said, doing your best to hold back and not scare her away. 

Mina pulls your cock out of her mouth, panting and coughing from how much she was pushing herself. “Do it the, fuck my face please, I want to make you cum the same way that you did to me,” Mina said, looking up at you with those captivating eyes, begging to be used for your pleasure and who were you to say no. 

She slowly puts your cock back into her mouth and begins bobbing and pushing herself as deep as she could. Grabbing the back of her head, you push her head further into your body until her nose touches your pelvis bone, Mina gagged a little but she didn’t resist. 

You pulled it out a little before you started pounding her face, “Fuck, I’m going to cum!” you groaned before pushing Mina’s head down your dick and releasing all your cum down her throat.

After you stopped cumming, Mina swallowed up all your cum, without any complaints at all. 

You watched as Mina walked to the washroom, to clean up a little, her as swaying from one side to the other. With every step her ass cheeks bouncing. This turned you on a lot more than you thought it would. 

As soon as Mina came back you pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her, pinning both her hands above her head. 

“How are you so fucking gorgeous? It's driving me crazy,” You say to Mina, looking deep into her eyes. They soften at your compliment, it wasn’t just out of lust but out of pure admiration for her and she knew it. 

“I could ask you the same thing, how is it possible that you don’t have women dying for you because I would do anything to be with you,” Mina says. 

Closing the distance, her breath touching your skin, “Then prove it to me!” 

Mina closes the distance between you, lips touching and moving in harmony. “Enough, please fuck me, I have wanted this for so long, I can’t wait anymore,” Mina says, you can hear how desperate she is. 

“Nor can I baby,” you say before positioning your cock at Mina’s entrance, slapping and teasing it. Her wet pussy juice sticking to your cock.

“Stop teasing and put it in,” Mina whined and you obliged, slowly pushing your tip into her, god was she tight, she was gripping onto your tip so hard. You continue to push into her slowly but stop all when you hear Mina scream.

You start to pull out a little because you don’t want to hurt Mina, “No!! Keep going please, just slowly,” Mina says as she grips your arms. 

“Baby, you need to relax, you are too tense and that's why it’s hurting you,” You say to Mina before leaning in to kiss her. 

Mina’s focused on the kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking this opportunity, you push into her again slowly 

“HGNH” Mina groaned again but she relaxed, focusing more on the kiss. 

Once you were in her completely you stayed still allowing her to adjust and not wanting to hurt her. After a minute or so Mina pulls away from the kiss and says,” You can move now,” 

You begin to move slowly in the beginning. You tried different angles to find Mina’s most sensitive spot. Moans filled the room, louder every time you hit a certain spot. Pleasure building up Mina wanted more,

“Harder, you can go harder,” Mina managed to say in between her moans. Obliging with her commands your thrusts get harder. It was truly a sight to take in, Mina’s tits bouncing out of control, her moans loud enough to be heard by your neighbors, and the most erotic expression on her face. 

“Ahh fuck! Keep going! Oh my fucking god,” All sorts of obscenities were coming out of Mina’s mouth, her elegant image was being destroyed and you were the reason for it. 

You couldn’t hold on much longer but you didn’t want it to end. Without pulling out, you picked Mina up, holding her in your arms as you continued to pound her. Your dick now hitting much deeper. 

“Oh fuck! Keep going, I need you so badly!” Mina moaned as her hands gripped onto your back, nails digging in, and her legs on your hands as you thrust into her.  

After thrusting into Mina’s tight pussy for many minutes, “CUMMING!” Mina screams as she squirts all over your cock. Your dick slips out of her and is now coated with her liquid. 

Soon recovering from her orgasm still in your arms she whispers something that you didn’t expect to hear. “Let me ride you,” 

It was a shocking suggestion but one that you welcomed. You set her down on the bed and join her on the bed, She is now sitting on you, her legs on each side of your body. Her pussy lips are right above your cock. 

Not wasting much time, Mina pushes your cock into her, it wasn’t that hard as now she was a little more relaxed once it was fully in she began bouncing on it like no tomorrow. She was amazing, it was like nothing you had ever felt, the way she moved was immaculate. 

Mina leans down to kiss you as she continues to ride your cock. Given how much her pussy was throbbing it wouldn’t be much longer before she was cumming all over your cock again. 

You grab a hold of her ass and push her down harsher, it takes her by surprise causing her to yelp. You were thrusting into Mina’s G-spot causing her to scream in pleasure. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and the profanities that came out of Mina’s mouth. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” Mina warned this time before she orgasmed all over your cock again but this time you didn’t stop. 

“F-fuck.. I can’t- ‘s too much,” Mina cried, tears staining her pretty cheeks as you continued to thrust into her even though she just came

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mina cried, a clear stream of liquid gushing out from her pussy

“There we go, that’s a good fucking girl,” you praised, thrusts getting sloppier as you approached your second orgasm. “God baby, you’re gripping me so hard. Gonna cum in that tight little pussy okay?” 

Mina’s head was so empty, nodding absentmindedly as her eyes threatened to close shut. “Fuck” you groaned loudly, bottoming out inside her and allowing your seed to fill you up. Some of it dripped down your thigh as he pulled out.

Mina was panting hard in an attempt to catch your breath, the body still spasming as you let her fall limp against your chest. “you’re a meanie,” Mina pouted tiredly, feeling your pussy flutter at the newfound emptiness.

“I know I am baby, but you did so good, took it so well” you chuckled, gripping the flesh of her ass as you kissed softly down the delicate skin on her neck.

After both of you came down from the high of your orgasms, you finally realized what just happened and how big this was. 

“Mina, this means that we are dating, right? Because I don’t think I could ever face you as anything but your boyfriend after what we just did,” you said, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words.

Mina looked up at you, her eyes softening as she took in the seriousness of your expression. She reached out, cupping your face in her hands, and smiled. "Yes, it does. I want us to be together. I’ve wanted it for a long time."

Relief and joy flooded through you, and you leaned down to kiss her again, this time with a sense of certainty and commitment. The kiss was tender, full of promises for the future.

The next morning, you woke up with Mina in your arms, her presence a comforting warmth against your side. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Mina stirred, blinking sleepily as she looked up at you.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Happy," she said simply, snuggling closer. "And a little scared, but mostly happy."

You nodded, understanding the mix of emotions. "Me too. But we’ll figure it out, together."

She smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest. "Yes, together."

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of adjustments. You had to navigate your new relationship while maintaining professionalism at work. There were moments of awkwardness, but also moments of pure bliss as you both found your rhythm.

You and Mina kept your relationship private, sharing it only with those closest to you. Jihyo was ecstatic when she found out, giving you both a knowing smile and a heartfelt hug. The other members were equally supportive, happy to see Mina truly happy.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Mina found yourselves on the company rooftop, a favorite spot for a quiet escape. The city lights twinkled below, and the cool breeze provided a perfect backdrop for a heart-to-heart conversation.

"Can you believe how far we’ve come?" Mina mused, leaning against you.

"It feels surreal," you admitted, wrapping an arm around her. "But I wouldn’t change a thing."

She turned to face you, her expression serious. "I know this won’t always be easy. There will be challenges, both personal and professional. But I want to face them with you."

"We will," you assured her, kissing her forehead. "One step at a time."

As the night grew darker, you both sat there, comfortable in the silence and each other's company, knowing that no matter what came next, you were in it together.

[runnning-outof-time]

“You Came.” “You Called.” | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Solomons Sister!Reader

Summary: Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons despise each other…….or do they?

Warnings: language, slight sexual situations, weapons, threats

Word Count: 1304

A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t as long as the others have been. I need to get these requests finished and this is what I was able to come out with. I hope you’ll still enjoy! Also I’ve tried something a little different at the end - hopefully you’ll participate and not be too mad at me for it! :)

A/N 2: Oh and this is the story where the Solomons!Sister won the poll — I’m not sure if it’s angsty enough…I tried my best with it. Also I’m sorry if Alfie seems ooc here…it’s been a bit since I’ve written him and I’m rusty.

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! — I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THE STORY!

comment/message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"You came," she sounded surprised.

"You called," his response was nonchalant.

"Yeah, but I didn't call you."

The story of Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons is a long, complicated one.

To give a quick summary: they first met the day that Tommy showed up at Alfie's 'bakery. She was the first to greet him and instantly was able to realize that there was more to his motives than what he was letting on.

She was cautious when dealing with him at first, but his charm soon enough chipped away that hesitant exterior she'd put up.

Neither could help but cross the line one late evening after a successful business dinner.

She thought that that would be the end of Tommy Shelby. But now he'd shown up at her door...when she was expecting her brother.

"Where's my brother?" (Y/N) asked, looking to either side of the doorway, hoping that Alfie would be close by.

He wasn't.

"He's busy," Tommy answered.

"So he sent you?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Not exactly," he shook his head.

"I'm not understanding what you're saying. Ollie told me that he'd take a note down for Alfie and that he'd inform him as soon as he became available." (Y/N) was confused now.

"I saw the note," he began, "took it upon myself to see what was needed to be discussed."

(Y/N)'s jaw just about dropped. "Tommy, why did you...would you, you shouldn't, you..."

"My name was on the note, love," he cut off her attempt to string words together.

"Just because it was on the note does not mean you were to be involved!" she couldn't stop her voice from raising, her eyes widening as she spoke. Now she was wondering how Ollie had phrased his note to Alfie. A few beats passed before a sigh escaped her lips. She ran a frustrated hand across her face before asking, "what...what did the note say?" Her thoughts had gotten the best of her.

"It said that you needed to speak about Shelby...had some information you wanted to be made known," he answered her, his eyes boring into hers. (Y/N) opened her mouth to say something but he didn't let her, taking a step inside, making her back up in the process. "What is it you wanted to tell him, hmm?"

His close proximity made her heartrate increase. She was quickly losing her ability to think. "Tommy, I..."

"What really was your goal last night, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his brows raising.

The willpower to keep her hands by her sides and not reach out to take hold of him was leaving (Y/N) by the second.

"I thought your intentions aligned with mine..." he trailed off, raising his hand so that he could run it down her jawline in a slow, teasing manner, "at least it seemed that way when you brought me back here."

Instead of dropping his hand when he reached her chin, he grasped it; taking it between his thumb and index finger so that he could raise her fleeing eyes to match his. This action made the breath get caught in (Y/N)'s throat, and every valid argument left her mind the second her eyes locked onto his icy blue ones. All hope was lost now.

"What are your intentions with me, (Y/N)?" he asked her.

"You know them, Tommy, I.." she couldn't quite string a thought together.

"Tell me."

"I.." she paused again, interally freaking out. Think of something, anything, (Y/N), come on! "I wanted to tell him about you...about us," she decided on telling him a lie, hoping that he would take it as the truth.

"Yeah?"

She couldn't decipher what he was truly thinking from his one word response. His widened eyes didn't help either, other than making her fall deeper into his trap with each second that passed. Now she was wracking her brain to think of ways to sell this.

The last thing she wanted to tell him was that she was going to sell him out...to tell Alfie what she felt his true intentions were.

"Yeah," she breathed, nodding her head as much as she could with his fingers still holding her chin. Sell it, (Y/N)!, her mind screamed before she raised her hands up to grip his lapels. All coherent thoughts flew out the window as she leaned in and kissed him.

This wasn't a loving kiss. It wasn't a slow one, unlike the ones they shared last night. She kissed him hard, hoping that the passion she put into it would be enough to get his mind off of the damn note and seal her lie for good.

His hold tightened on her chin, but he didn't break the kiss. In fact, his other hand moved from his side to her hip, where he began bunching up her skirt in order to make contact with her bare skin.

Success.

(Y/N) also became absorbed by the passion that they both were showing. It was hard not to given the fact that he was Tommy Shelby. The night they shared was one of the best she'd ever had. Conniving business man or not, she would remember it for the rest of her life.

"What in the bloody fucking hell is going on here?!"

What (Y/N) did not remember before getting sucked into this situation was to shut the door to her home.

Her eyes shot open and she became frantic, trying to break the kiss and move away from Tommy as quick as she could. "Alfie!" she shrieked, surprise clear on her face.

"Why're you fucking kissing my sister, mate?!" Alfie asked Tommy, speaking with a seething anger.

While (Y/N) was just about shaking from the shock of her brother showing up, Tommy didn't seem to be phased.

"Alfie he...he was just..."

"No," Alfie cut (Y/N) off, shaking his head and stopping her attempt to cover for the man now standing beside her, "I asked him not you. He knows family is off-fucking-limits, so I want him to answer me why."

Tommy said nothing. (Y/N) shrunk into herself more and more with each passing second. She'd never seen Alfie this angry.

"I said fucking answer me!" Alfie bellowed, drawing the revolver he had tucked into his waistband. He wasted no time in cocking it and holding it in Tommy's face.

Tommy still didn't move; didn't even flinch.

"You're going to fucking answer me," Alfie demanded, his voice low and menacing, "yeah, you're going to fucking answer me or it'll be your fucking brains blown out all over (Y/N)'s fucking foyer."

"Alfie, don't," (Y/N) begged her brother, reaching a shaky hand out in hopes that he would see it and lower his weapon.

"She called for you," Tommy spoke, his voice level and stoic.

"She fucking what?" Alfie asked, his brows furrowing slightly, confused by why Tommy was saying this.

“She called your office. You weren’t around. But my name was on the note,” Tommy shared more details.

“And what does that have fucking anything to do with you fucking kissing my sister?!” Alfie’s anger had returned.

“It has everything to do with it,” Tommy was still level-headed. “You see, she was going to tell you about this, about us,” he then dropped the bomb, motioning between himself and (Y/N) to emphasize the point he was making.

“I can explain,” (Y/N) was quick to blurt out, her eyes trained on the gun in Alfie’s hand, which he’d - thankfully - lowered from being aimed at Tommy’s head.

She couldn’t read the look in her brother’s eyes. The seconds felt like hours as they passed. She stood frozen as Alfie rose the revolver again and…….

Ok I’m evil, I know but……..

Don’t fret, if the poll’s closed by the time you’re reading this, you’re still more than welcome (and I’d encourage you, actually) to share what you think would happen next!!

p.s….this story won’t be getting continued. I’m just curious as to what y’all think.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @mischievouslittlecreature @stevie75

@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick

@dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety

@justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader

@red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

@ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[undressrehearsal]

dare to fuck this up

summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing

a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance

part 1

You hadn't talked about it. 

You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch. 

You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you? 

The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet. 

That had been three weeks ago. 

For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice. 

At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach. 

Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked. 

And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her. 

Fine. 

If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her. 

Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks. 

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder. 

“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.

So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air. 

“What the hell are you-” 

You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor. 

She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor. 

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered. 

So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”

And the game began. 

Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped. 

Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”

She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it. 

“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?” 

And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs. 

You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.” 

Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure. 

You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup. 

It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway. 

Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed. 

Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.” 

You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger. 

Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.” 

You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake. 

The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably. 

“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die. 

There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut. 

You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. 

You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated. 

You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy. 

You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.” 

“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.” 

You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something. 

Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly - 

Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.” 

When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away. 

This was definitely Hell. It had to be. 

When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste. 

When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things. 

Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief. 

“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago. 

But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.” 

So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention. 

So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.” 

“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again. 

You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.” 

“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose. 

You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.” 

You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.” 

You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.” 

Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?” 

Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.” 

You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’” 

You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.

Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again. 

And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth. 

For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”) 

And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened. 

But the clock kept ticking. 

After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”

“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.” 

Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you. 

“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 

She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh. 

Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth. 

And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.” 

A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering. 

Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-” 

You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it. 

But this was too important to ignore. 

“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth. 

Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break. 

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.” 

Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.” 

And it was the lack of care that broke you. 

You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?” 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?” 

“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?” 

Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart. 

It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.” 

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?” 

“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.” 

And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. 

You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.” 

You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft. 

“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.” 

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?” 

Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers. 

“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away. 

“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.

Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-” 

“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”

She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.” 

“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.” 

She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.” 

Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper. 

“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.” 

Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.” 

You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek. 

“What do we do now?” 

When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.” 

Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….” 

“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin. 

You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest. 

Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”

“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?” 

You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream. 

Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her. 

Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart. 

The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out. 

It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head. 

Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.” 

She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.” 

You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin. 

“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there.  You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.” 

You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” 

Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.” 

When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan. 

Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.” 

She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise. 

You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck. 

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.” 

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.” 

You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the implication of that either. 

Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch. 

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.” 

Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her. 

This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue. 

But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face. 

“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you. 

If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.

Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips. 

You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it. 

You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel. 

You loved revenge. 

But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile. 

So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.

When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst. 

Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants. 

When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster. 

The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?” 

Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise. 

Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?” 

You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple. 

You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit. 

The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged. 

Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together. 

You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place. 

You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer? 

A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed. 

You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.” 

You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world. 

You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely. 

She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off. 

“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans. 

You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth. 

Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg. 

Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you. 

“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.” 

“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.” 

“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….” 

You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness. 

“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.” 

Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers. 

“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.” 

She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?” 

You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.” 

She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear. 

Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly. 

It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips. 

When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart. 

Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now? 

Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.” 

Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before. 

Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?” 

You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?”