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aurorawritestoescape · 6 months ago

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IN HIS ARMS || QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader || 5,2k

Summary: You meet a smuggler in the QZ and can't resist your attraction to him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, a bit of fluff, unspecified age gap, Fedra soldier!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, mirror sex, degradation, rough sex, praise kink, size kink, reader really loves Joel’s arms (who doesn’t), manhandling, alcohol consumption, use of a morning after pill, mention of guns, mention of canon-typical violence. Reader has hair. Joel can pick her up. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is written for PPCU Body Worship writing challenge, created by talented, sweet and beautiful @joelmillerisapunk 💖 I got ‘Arms’ and immediately thought of meaty, beefy QZ Joel. Smooches to my lovely beta @milla-frenchy 😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Love y’all! Hope you will like the story!❤️

MASTERLIST

“Let’s go.”

“Sure you need me there? It’s your deal, Ronnie. And you know you’re armed, right? Why do I always have to hold your hand?” you complain, while your eyes are scanning the crowd at a public hanging for any sign of disturbance. It’s not your favorite task but Fedra sends enough soldiers here to keep things under control so it usually goes smoothly. That’s probably why your friend Ronnie arranged a deal right in the middle of your shift.

“I’m nervous, ok,” he admits, glancing at you, “The dude’s fucking scary. Never worked with him before. But I’ve heard stuff. You’re just gonna stand there, that’s all. Don’t need to talk.”

You’ve known Ronnie since you were teens in a Fedra camp. Now both officers, you are still inseparable, though at this moment you’d prefer to be as far away from him as you could because in case you two get caught, you both will be a spectacle of the next hanging. Ronnie’s pleading eyes always work on you and the little weasel knows it well so you curse and follow him to the place of the meetup.

As soon as you see the smuggler, standing in a secluded spot far away from the prying eye, your heart starts beating faster. And not because he scares you. Yes, he’s huge and looks very unfriendly, thanks to his furrowed brows and the closed off stance which actually happens to be the culprit of your unexpected reaction. His pose accentuates the beauty of his arms as he’s crossing them in front of his chest. It’s a threatening sight, same as his gaze, but like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to the man immediately. All thoughts in your head are replaced with only one - he’s fucking hot.

Ronnie slowly comes up to the man, feigning confidence.

“Who the fuck is this?” the smuggler asks, nodding at you with his chin.

“Just a friend. Don’t worry, Joel.”

“I ain’t the one to worry here, kid,” he gruffs, uncrossing his arms as his fists clench in a threatening gesture and you can sense the waves of panic, coming from your friend. “I prefer to do these things one on one. Don’t need an audience. Ya got me?”

“Yeah, ‘k. Next time I’ll be alone.”

“Hope so.”

Joel looks you up and down and you suddenly feel too hot. Standing a step further from him than Ronnie and not saying anything, you’re ogling the man with hungry eyes. Joel seems to relax and the men finally exchange the goods— pills for your friend and ration cards for the smuggler. They’re talking about the product, scheduling the next deal, and you should be on the lookout, should be attentive to the surroundings, like you always are, but your mind, as well as other parts, is fully focused on the stranger.

Joel’s hairy forearms are thick and strong and every little move makes his muscles flex and bulge out of his rolled up sleeves of the denim shirt. His shoulders are broad and the fabric, containing them, is strained to the limit. You’ve never been a biter in bed but suddenly you want to sink your teeth into his arms, lick them all over, glide your hands over the vast expense of his skin, grab them and feel them tighten around your body, encompassing you fully, while his cock stretches…

“Hey!” Ronnie exclaims, interrupting your horny daydreams, pulling on your sleeve and you blink at him, trying to shake away the visions of the man, doing filthy things to you.

“Let’s go!” he says for what appears not the first time, and you smile awkwardly, noticing Joel’s smirk. His arms are crossed again, but now he’s looking at you with a twinkle of curiosity in his piercing eyes, his heavy gaze lightened up.

You take a step away, following your friend, but Joel stops you.

“Sweetheart, wait!”

The pet name hits you right in the pussy and you pause and turn back, confused by why he’s calling you.

“C’mere,” the man motions for you to return to him with a shake of his head, his bear hands shoved in the jeans pockets.

“We’re in a hurry, man,” Ronnie frowns, thinking he’s coming to your rescue, but you turn to him and say,

“It’s ok. Wait for me over there.”

You have no idea what Joel wants from you, but you’re eager to find out. Not hiding his anxiety, your friend takes a few steps away from you and stands at the gate, glancing in your direction from time to time while his hand is resting on his gun.

“Yes? Joel, right?” You ask, coming up to the smuggler and using every last drop of your will not to leer at his mighty arms again.

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

You reply with a little smile and see a smirk tug at his plush lips when he asks, “Like what you see?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been starin' at me like at a piece of meat. No use denyin' it."

You avert your eyes, chewing on your lip. You probably should be embarrassed to be caught ogling the man, but life in this miserable world taught you to take what you want whenever you can. Especially if it's being handed to you.

"I'm not." You look back at Joel with defiance in your gaze. "I think you're hot."

Joel’s chest expands when he takes a deep breath, the shirt’s buttons hanging for dear life. His piercing eyes turn a shade darker as he asks,

"Wanna do somethin' about it?"

Your heart rate increases and the warmth of arousal between your thighs makes you shift on your feet.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Come over to my place tonight. Around 8. Ask your friend for the address. He knows."

You don't reply for a few seconds, making it seem like you're thinking about your answer, although your pussy has been aching since the moment you saw the smuggler so there's no way you're going to reject his invitation.

"'K", you reply, feigning nonchalance, while excitement is twisting your stomach.

“What?! Are you out of your mind? You're gonna see him?” Ronnie hisses at you, as you two are walking back to the square. “He’s dangerous! Do you realize that? He’s huge! Have you seen his arms?”

“Oh, I’ve seen his arms alright,” you reply with a dreamy smile, sensing butterflies in your belly.

“Fuck, you’re so stupid when you’re horny. If I find you tomorrow dead in a ditch, I’ll tell your lifeless face ‘I told you so!’”

“Jesus, man,” You giggle, playfully punching Ronnie’s shoulder. “I’ll be ok. I promise.”

The night can’t come soon enough. Still wearing your uniform, you rush to meet the man who's been occupying your mind all day. When Joel opens the door to you, you swallow loudly seeing him in the same denim shirt and dark blue jeans. You’ve been dreaming of his huge arms around your body, so your panties are completely soaked, and having had no time to change after your shift, you hope to slide them off as fast as possible.

“Hi,” you greet the man, stepping into his apartment.

“Howdy.”Joel closes the door and stands next to you, while his gaze is sliding up and down your body. You look around the apartment, getting a whiff of his scent— sweat with a subtle trace of whiskey.

“Are you from Texas originally?” You ask, glancing up at him, slightly intoxicated by his closeness.

“Yeah. Want a drink?”

He walks to the living area and you follow before leaving your guns at the door.

“What do you have?”

“Whiskey, vodka…water.”

“Vodka’s fine,” you reply, stepping up to a worn out couch and sitting down.

“Oh, are you a vodka girl?”

“I’m a ‘whatever burns’ girl, but vodka works faster on me,” you smile and Joel smirks, crossing his arms again. You swallow loudly, seeing his sexy tan forearms in the golden light of the setting sun. Fuck, you wanna touch them.

“Why d’ya need it to work fast? Doesn’t seem like you need any liquid courage.”

“Really?”

Joel goes to the kitchen and in a few seconds returns with a half empty Smirnoff bottle and two shot glasses. He plops next to you on the couch with a grunt and pours out the alcohol.

You drink yours in one go and Joel follows. The vodka burns and calms you down a little. Joel clears his throat before he speaks,

“This morning your friend was shaking like a leaf. And you… You were practically undressing me with your eyes, sweetheart.”

You smile and drop your gaze down to your lap.

“Well, Ronnie is a nervous guy and I’m …”

“A needy little slut?”

You shoot your eyes up at him and see a smug smile, tugging at his lips, as he awaits your reaction. You should probably feel offended or angry, but instead your core burns brighter at his degrading comment and your pussy flutters, as if proving him right.

He reads your reaction immediately.

“Oh you like that, huh?”

“What?”

“When I call you a slut.”

“I don’t mind,” you mumble while your mind is shutting down with every dirty word he throws at you.

“Yeah, you looked like a thirsty whore this morning. And I see that nothing’s changed.”

You’re barely breathing at this point, as waves of arousal ripple through your body, making you squirm in your seat.

“I…I just really like your arms.” Your gaze shamelessly slides over his body, so big and powerful.

“My arms?” Joel’s brows shoot up and he turns his head to look at his arm, resting on the back of the couch, as if trying to understand your attraction.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, ogling the muscles straining his sleeve.

“Wanna touch ‘em, baby?”

“Yes, please”.

“So polite. Wanna call you a good girl but we already know that you prefer ‘a slut’.”

Joel chuckles and narrows his eyes, watching you for a few seconds, while you’re melting under his lustful gaze, sinking in the sticky pit of desire. Through the fog in your head you hear his voice, low but still powerful.

“How about we skip the pleasantries then and get to the thing you came for.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m gonna fuck you. And let you touch my arms.”

Your breath hitches and your body tingles all over. You can’t agree fast enough.

“Yeah, ok.”

“Do you always say ‘yes’ to everything, little slut?” he smirks, playing with you like a cat with a mouse.

You try to come up with a witty response but your mind is clouded with lust so you just shake your head with probably the dumbest look ever.

“Can I use your bathroom?” You mumble and when he points you in its direction, swiftly walk there.

You close the door in the little room and check your face in the mirror. It’s the same as every day except for your glossy eyes. You rinse your face, trying to come to your senses, look a little less horny but it’s all in vain. The desire overtook your body completely so you dry yourself and leave the room.

When you return to Joel, you find him on the couch in the same spot and in the same position. Only now he’s completely naked.

A shiver goes down your spine from a new surge of arousal, tightening your core.

You barely hear him, your mind is fully occupied by the image of this gorgeous, huge man, waiting to fuck you. Everything about him makes your pussy beat with the rhythm of your heart - his soft belly, his long, girthy, slightly curved semi hard cock, resting on his thick thigh, his broad hairy chest and muscular arms. Seeing them without the confines of the clothes completely shuts off your brain and you take a step towards him, mesmerized by his muscles, wishing to feel them already.

“Take your clothes off, baby.”

You hardly hear him, taking in every inch of his body.

“Girl! Undress. Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans and you shake your head, waking up from a horny trance, and start discarding your clothes hastily, piece by piece while his dark gaze is set on you. You should be more graceful and seductive taking them off, but your aching pussy makes your movements rushed and determined. When you’re completely naked, except for your panties, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of the last piece of clothing, but Joel stops you.

He gets up and walks to you, his big cock in his veiny hand.

“Wanna do it myself,” he mumbles and stands next to you, at your side, so close that you feel his warm breath on your cheek and breasts, his naked chest brushing against your shoulder, his manhood poking your thigh.

“Pretty little thing,” he whispers, taking in your body, while his hand slides down your back, leaving chills in its wake. You raise your big eyes at him, your lips parted. “Pity you get so dumb though,” he chuckles and lightly squeezes your asscheek. His hand stays there while the other one cups your breast and grazes your nipple with his calloused thumb, making it stiff. You moan and he groans.

Joel’s palm on your ass moves lower, and reaches your pussy, covered by the wet panties. He slips his finger between your asscheeks and rubs your drippping hole over the gusset. You softly whimper and he plants a light kiss on your cheek, stroking your folds over the fabric.

“She’s been crying for me all day, huh?” he mumbles, placing his large warm hand on your belly, the other one still caressing your cunt. “Pussy so needy she shut down your whole little brain. Yeah, baby?”

All you can do is nod, your senses fully focused on the way his thick fingers are rubbing your aching cunt over the underwear.

“She must be cold, sweetheart, being in a pair of wet panties all day like that?” He coos at you.

“Yeah”, you reply, barely breathing, already feeling your orgasm build because of his light touches. “Didn’t have time to change. I have a sexy pair at home.”

Joel breathes out a chuckle, “I bet you do, little slut. Would love to see ‘em too one day.”

The only response you can give is a mewl.

He steps in front of you, his hand leaving your pussy, and you whine. Joel tsks at you and pinches your chin with his fingers to lift your face to his.

“Oh, my pretty bimbo, already cock drunk,” he laughs, locking eyes with you.

Joel’s so huge, you should probably be scared, but all you feel is a pathetic need to be completely destroyed by him.

“Lights are on but…fuck, you’re gone,” he mocks you, looking into your hazy blown out eyes.

“Listen to me,” he commands, as his fingers slightly shake your head, getting your attention. “How do you want it? Gentle or rough, sweetheart?”

“Rough,” you croak back without any hesitation.

“Good. Then do what I say and we gonna have a great time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good little slut.”

Your breaths are short and fast as you’re blinking, starting at him like a mindless fuck doll. Suddenly, you gasp when he grabs the back of your thighs with his massive hands and lifts you, throwing your legs around his waist. You grab onto his broad shoulders and he carries you away from the couch and to the bedroom.

He drops you on the bed, old and stiff, but you don’t care. You have no time or ability to think about anything, because as soon as you’re on your back, Joel pins you to the lumpy mattress with his heavy torso and kisses you. He’s not asking for a kiss, he’s taking it but you willingly open your mouth, welcoming his hot tongue. A happy moan escapes your mouth, when you finally glide your palms over his huge arms. He slides your panties off and cups your pussy with his huge warm palm.

“Messy whore,” he mumbles against your mouth.

Joel’s assertive, passionate and as horny as you are, and you smile against his lips, enjoying his desire for you.

He begins peppering kisses along your jaw, your neck, leaving hickeys on his way to your breasts.

You whimper when his mouth finds your nipple and gasp when he nips at it. He licks the pain away and starts sucking on it while his hands are roaming your heated body.

You grab onto his shoulders and shift your hips under his arm. Joel’s slurping and growling, caressing your breast with his lips and tongue, but you crave more so you start grinding your wet pulsating pussy against his arm. Your movements immediately send you to the precipice of your climax. His muscles flex as you rub your clit against them, smearing your slick over his tan skin, and Joel parts from your tit for a few seconds to watch you use his arm to get yourself off.

“Look at this sloppy little pussy. Gonna need a shower after this. Or…,” he smirks and gets back to suckling your other breast.

Each motion of his muscles is helping you to come as you’re dragging your pussy up and down his heavy limb. Soon you throw your head back, dipping it into the pillow when a hard climax hits you and your cunt contracts around nothing, as euphoria is coursing through your veins, taking away the last of your clear thinking.

“That’s it— take it, slut— come for me — jus’ like that,” Joel mumbles against your trembling chest but you hardly hear him, so deep in the ocean of desire, all sounds around you are muffled.

The next thing you feel is his hands grabbing your shoulders and lifting you. Joel makes you sit up and wraps his heavy hand around the back of your neck.

“Look what you’ve done, messy girl.”

He nods at his arm, glistening with your cum and slick and then growls, “Lick it clean.”

With a hazy smile you sit on your heels, getting comfortable. Then you take his arm between your hands and reach for it. Your tongue slides over his hot wet skin and you flutter your eyes shut, reveling in the sensations of his firm muscles under your tongue and the earthy taste of your juices.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you and slightly squeezes the back of your neck to make you move your head lower and lap up all the mess you’ve left on his skin.

When you finish, Joel lifts your head and sees you staring at his throbbing cock with empty but hungry eyes. It’s leaking precum generously and you almost drool looking at it. You should probably be nervous to take his huge length but all you feel is feral lust.

Placing his palm under your jaw, Joel tilts your head up and searches for your eyes.

“Damn, lookin’ so dumb right now. Lucky you remember how to breathe, little whore.”

He laughs at you and grabs your face, as his fingers dig into your cheeks, making your lips pout.

You whine and he pulls you into his chest. You hug him as if afraid to float away and he gives you a few moments of rest while you are panting, snuggling into his embrace after the shuddering orgasm.

Then he lifts your chin and locks eyes with you. Your breath hitches as you’re struck by his handsome face, which leans down and he kisses you again, gently and slowly, wrapping you tighter in his embrace. Then he asks,

“Why do you like my arms so much?”

You blink a few times, trying really hard to understand the question, drunk on his taste and the way he’s holding you, but when the meaning finally reaches your brain, you stumble over your words.

“I… they… jus’ so big. And … fuck, very hot.”

You feel his broad chest shake with a quiet laugh. “Ready for my cock, baby?” You nod your head with a soft mewl.

“Wanna watch my arms when I’m railing you?”

“Yeah, yes, please.”

Joel hums and gets up before manhandling you off the bed and leading you to a wardrobe. He’s holding you under your arms, noticing that your weak legs are barely able to move, still tingling after your orgasm. He places you like a fuck doll in front the wardrobe door with a mirror and stands behind you. He’s so big and broad that you can see his shoulders and arms perfectly in the reflection. Your gaze glides over your own naked body, and you notice a path of hickeys along your neck and breasts and your core ignites again at the sight of his passion. Then you look at Joel, his eyes are obsidian, the expression is carnal and hungry, and you moan, feeling his cock slap your lower back.

His gaze drops down before he pushes your legs aside with his knee, his thick fingers dig into your hips and he pulls your ass, making you stick it out. Trying to steady yourself, you brace your hands on the mirror in front of you, but he grumbles,

“Not the mirror, stupid. You’ll break it, cut yourself.”

You swiftly move your hands further apart onto the wooden surface.

“Sexy but so dumb,” he mumbles as his eyes return to your ass and his cock. You watch his face, serious and concentrated, and sense his tip prod your sopping hole.

“Fuck,” he curses and pushes his cock deeper, slightly bending his knees to insert it into your tight pussy easier.

You push your ass out more for him, already whimpering like a whore, as you feel your walls slowly part to accommodate his stiff cock. It stings but you welcome the sensation of his manhood spreading your pussy until he bottoms out and you both moan at the sensation.

“Ahh— she feels amazing, baby,” he grunts and you smile dumbly at his reflection in the mirror.

“Such a sloppy cunt,” he murmurs, starting to plunge his length in and out of you with a fast rhythm, “oh, yeah — yeah — yeah—.”

His fat cock is massaging your walls deliciously, kissing your cervix with every deep thrust and you mewl with pleasure and scratch the wooden surface of the wardrobe with your nails.

“Naughty kitten. Tess will kill you if you leave marks on her furniture,” Joel chuckles through heavy panting, squeezing your hips and watching your cunt swallow his glistening cock.

“Who’s Tess?” You ask, not really giving a fuck and he doesn’t reply.

Instead he grants you your biggest wish - he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arms around your torso from behind. Your hands immediately fly to grab onto his strong limbs. Joel’s right arm is under your breasts, slightly pushing them up. The other one is keeping you in place, pressed to your chest, between your tits, his giant hand on your throat. His thick fingers curl around your neck but he doesn’t squeeze it, just holds you close against his broad torso.

The sensation and the vision of his powerful muscular arms bonding you to him like that, make your pussy contract and Joel growls in your ear, his breath hot and wet,

“Squeezing me already? Fuck, you’re easy.”

You whine and Joel nibbles on your ear lobe and rasps,

“Hold tight, baby, it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

As soon as the words reach your ear, he begins rolling his hips and dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy, hard and fast.

You grab onto his bulging muscles better, and as he’s increasing the pace, you’re scratching him with your nails, leaving white marks on his golden skin and whimpering.

“Yeah, take it, dumb little whore. Gonna fuck the last of your brain out of your pretty head.”

Your breasts bounce while he’s fucking you and you bite your puffy lips, trying to muffle your moans, but Joel commands against yout ear,

“Want you to be loud, baby. C’mon. Let them all hear how good im fuckin’ ya.”

You would do anything he told you this moment so your lips part and you let your pleasured noises out, as they mix with the sound of skin rhythmically slapping against skin and his animalistic groans.

Reveling in the sensation of Joel, pounding your crying cunt, you let your hands wander all over his forearms and shoulders, squeezing and scratching them slightly, wishing to memorize the feeling of their strength under your hungry touch. Your vision is shaking with every mighty thrust of his hips but you’re watching the reflection of you two closely, drowning in the image of this tall broad man using you like a mindless fuck doll, caging you in his powerful arms and tears well up in your eyes at how amazing it feels. Your mind and body are focused on this pleasure, suffering and worries of the reality are gone and the drops of pure happiness spill and fall on his arms.

Joel notices you crying and stops fucking you, swiftly pulling out and turning you around.

“What is it, baby? Did I hurt ya?”

His dark eyes, a second ago filled with carnal desire now worried and concerned, dart all over your face and body, searching for the reason of your tears.

You grab onto him and shake your head,

“No, no, i’m fine — feels so good - you feel so good, Joel.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he breathes out, pulling you into his bear hug and rubbing your back with his warm hands.

“Please keep fucking me,” you mumble against his hairy chest and he barks a laugh before throwing you back on the bed, making you squeal with excitement.

Joel lies down and manhandles you to straddle him.

“Sit on my cock, little slut,” he commands, eyes darting between yours, reading your reaction.

“Yes, yes,” you mumble, wrapping your hand around his hot hard cock and lifting your hips, hovering over it. You don’t make him wait and immediately sink down on his weeping manhood, as your mouth falls open and your head tilts back.

Joel’s hands are holding your hips when you start riding him, and then snake up to your breasts to knead them, pinch and twist your pebbled nipples.

You run your fingers over his forearms from the elbows to his wrists and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers. Not pausing your lustful dance on his cock, you gently kiss his palm, his hand, then your lips glide down, leaving open mouth kisses over his wrist, the underside of his forearm and his elbow, darting your tongue out and tasting his salty skin. You lean forward, your nipples brushing his chest, and kiss his biceps, using your tongue, and Joel moans, watching you practically make out with his arm.

“Fuck, you’re hot, baby,” he groans while you’re lapping at his skin with your eyes shut. You’re softly whimpering at the sensation of his body, big and strong under you, his cock caressing your walls, making your pussy flutter around it, pushing you closer and closer to your second climax.

“Shit,” Joel curses, pulls your head off his arm and kisses you, while hugging your torso with his python-like grip. He’s holding you tight and you whine, not being able to move your hips and chase your orgasm. Sensing your impatience, Joel plants his feet on the bed and begins jackhammering his fat cock into your slicked up pussy, giving it to you rough and fast, not sparing your little hole.

You’re moaning against his scruffy cheek, your body shaking with his feral thrusts but Joel’s iron hold is keeping you in place.

“Usin’ you like a fuck doll you’re, yeah? Brainless little slut. Made just to make my cock happy. Perfect for me.”

His filthy words, leaving his mouth through gritted teeth, are barely audible because of the loud slapping of his body against yours and the squeaking of the old bed.

“Joellll…,” you moan, and after a few more thrusts explode on his thumping cock, caged by his strong arms, sobbing with heavenly pleasure flooding every inch of your body.

“Hnggg—shit—can I come inside?” You hear a gruff roar in your ear and with Joel fucking your brains out right this moment, you breathe out, “yeah, oh, yeah.” You crave to be full of him, drip him for days after, getting turned on just from the memory of him. As soon as you agree, Joel starts spurting his hot cum into your pulsating cunt, filling you up, emptying his balls into you.

You’re lying still, nuzzling his neck and taking everything he’s giving you, milking his cock to the last drop with your contracting walls.

Gradually intense ecstasy morphs into a pleasant satisfaction and you both bask in the afterglow of your orgasms. You feel almost high on endorphins, not used to such an amount of happiness in your veins, in your life.

Joel softens his embrace but still holds you, letting you rest and you almost doze off, lulled by his warm chest rocking you up and down like a giant wave.

“Don’t sleep yet, ya need to take a pill,” he gently shakes you, sleep heavy in his own voice.

“Oh, yeah…fuck, you came inside,” you murmur, blinking at him, as your mind fog slowly clears up.

“I have a Plan B, don’t worry.”

He moves you off him and lays you down on the bed, then gets up, making the bed squeak.

You can’t move your limbs even if you tried to so you’re lying there, feeling his warmth between your legs, kisses of the afterglow all over your heated skin and smile lazily when he returns to the bed with a glass of water.

“Look at you, as cock dumb as they get, huh?”

He plops down next to you and hands you the pill.

You sit up with a tired smile, swallow the pill and chase it with a few sips of water.

“Good girl,” Joel takes the glass from you and shakes his head when you murmur that you need to go.

“No way. Sleep here. They'll hang your ass if they catch you out and about at this hour.”

You turn your head to the window, just noticing that it’s completely dark outside, only the street lamps illuminate the room with a yellow light.

“Aww, you care about me, Joel? Don’t fall in love,” you giggle but your heart flutters as you look up at the man, so handsome and huge, looming over you.

“I’ll try,” he deadpans and shakes his hand, motioning you to scooch.

You shift to the other side of the bed and he lies down on his back with a grunt. You’re still sitting up, shamelessly admiring his naked body.

“Quit starin’,” he mumbles with eyes closed and pulls you down onto his chest.

You’re lying on his shoulder for a few moments and then whisper,

“Can you big spoon me?”

“Jesus…,” he sighs but turns on his side, scooping you in his embrace and you smile, closing your eyes as your hands gravitate to his arms, heavy and secure around you. You press your back into his warm chest and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖🌸

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usedtobecooler · 9 months ago

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live now, think later | steve harrington x afab!reader

a/n: thank you so much in advance to everybody who takes the time to read, reblog and comment on this fic. it's the first thing i've published in close to three months and i'm honestly a little nervous, i hope i've come back with a big enough bang! title is taken from think later by tate mcrae, and a massive thank you to @trashmouth-richie for making my header+dividers for me. 7.8k words.

summary: upon your arrival in hawkins to visit your old friend, eddie munson, his first idea is to drag you down to family video — where you ‘unintentionally’ meet steve harrington. a well timed deal, a fake friend date and a few drinks later, you find yourself in steve’s downtown apartment with lowered inhibitions.

warnings: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, bratting, spit kink, biting, hair pulling, very poor use of the pull out method. alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing and public heavy petting. no use of y/n and very minimal description of reader. eddie munson being eddie munson.

Eddie is all but dragging you into Family Video by your hand, the harsh metal of his rings digging into the webbing of your fingers as he pulls you in through the door.

Eddie Munson was easily the most excitable person you’d ever met in your life, and his sudden enthusiasm to get you into the video store is going to land you in the emergency room, because if he tugs you any harder your shoulder will detach from the socket.

The buzzer above your head rings violently in an attempt to alert the staff that somebody has come in, and a mop of beautifully styled hair attached to an equally beautiful man comes into view as you edge closer to the rental counter.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie grins, loud and unabashed, "you got that new one with Meg Ryan in it? Heard she cums at a dinner table and lady luck over here is desperate to see it."

He's sniggering as you pull away from him and smack at his arm hard enough that he lets out an indignant yelp. Your face is burning hot with embarrassment as the boy's eyes dart back and forth between you both, confusion etched on his face.

He - Stevie, apparently - raises an eyebrow at you both, taking in the disheveled and most likely chaotic scene in front of him, "You mean 'When Harry Met Sally'?"

"Majorly concerning you know what movie it is from the description of 'Meg Ryan cums at a dinner table'," you quip, mouth running away from you before you can even stop it. Your face somehow burns even hotter, Steve crossing his arms over his chest with a small smirk.

He's in a preppy little striped polo shirt under his green embroidered work vest, and god his arms are bulging. His skin is tanned golden, a product of the heat of an Indiana summer, freckles and beauty marks prominent on his face, trailing down his neck and dipping below the collar.

You stare for a beat too long. Taking in the man in front of you, who looks very sure of himself.

Eddie knows you all too well, Steve is absolutely your type, which makes your first encounter all the more mortifying.

"It's my job to know all the new releases, honey." Steve's smile grows smug, and it's breathtaking how attractive you find it, "You're both shit out of luck, it's been on rent all week. Romantic night in, is it?"

Eddie scoffs from beside you, and it takes everything in you to not be offended by how quickly the noise escapes him, "Yeah, she wishes. She's not my type at all, Harrington. Annoying, clingy, pisses too lo-"

"God, shut the fuck up," you're mortified, covering your face with your hands, "I've been in town less than a day, are you trying to get me ousted?"

Steve looks all too amused by the encounter, struggling to hold back a chuckle. His pretty eyes never leave you as he speaks, "Munson's deflecting, I already know you rejected him and he's taking it like a dagger to the heart."

Eddie points an accusatory finger, "Take it back, fucker. I've never been turned down in my life."

Steve quirks a brow at him, then turns his attention back to you. You squirm under his strong gaze, "Is that true, doll? I feel like he's lying."

"I'm not getting involved in this dick swinging contest," you hold your hands up, trying in vain to ignore the silly little pet name that really does it for you, backing away from the counter slightly, "what are we even here for, Eddie?"

"I was just making sure me and Stevie here were still on for drinks tonight." Eddie glances at Steve, who looks as confused as you feel, “You wanna join us?"

You shoot him an incredulous look, "This feels like a set up."

Eddie smirks, "Why's that? Can't three pals all go out for a drink together? I want my two best friends to get to know each other."

You narrow your eyes playfully, glancing at Steve who seems to have gotten with the program, all signs of confusion gone from his face, "I'm not sure I trust you." You huff, turning to Steve and nodding back at Eddie, "What if he's just setting us up so he can bail and I'm stuck with you all alone, Stevie?"

Eddie feigns offense, "Now why would I do that? Besides, even if I did, you're a big girl. I'm sure you could bully Steve into leaving you alone."

You smirk back at him, "Fine. But if you and Steve start getting all lovey-dovey, I'm bailing and leaving you to pay the tab."

Steve barks out a laugh, "Don’t worry about me, I can behave myself. Same can’t be said for Munson, he takes one look at the Harrington ass and loses all inhibitions.”

“It is beautifully round.” Eddie admits in defeat, hand clinging to his own flat ass, a ridiculously deep frown etched onto his features.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face and stays firmly put as you exit the video store, every nerve in your body buzzing when Steve winks in your direction when you depart.

The black lace bodysuit you wear clings to your curves nicely, the nip of your waist accentuated by your mom jeans. Eddie had even wolf whistled when he saw you, which was his nerdy way of saying you looked really fucking good.

As you pull up to the strip, Eddie slows down to a stop outside what looks like a dive bar, "I'm gonna drop you off here and go 'round back to park up the van, 'kay sweetheart? Steve's already in there."

Your eyes narrow, "I don't trust you, Munson. This feels like a set up."

Eddie holds his hands up, "It's not, I promise. I just need to go park the van and-" he trails off, sighs and rolls his eyes, "I have to go make a deal super quick. Don't want you there for that, this guy is sketchy."

You huff out a sigh, understanding him completely, Eddie really was a good guy who wouldn't put you in harms way. He knew leaving you with Steve momentarily was safer than taking you with him to a deal, and you trusted his judgment.

"Okay," you agree eventually, making to hop out of the van, "but I swear, Eddie, if you don't come back, I'm gonna be pissed. You'd better be dead."

Eddie holds up his hand in a scouts honor as if he was ever in the scouts in he first place, and you roll your eyes as you shove the creaky van door open and jump out.

"I'll be back soon, kiss Steve for me, will you?" Eddie jokes, grinning maniacally.

You stick up the finger and slam the door shut deliberately, making the walk around the side of the van before he can say anything in return.

As you make your way inside the bar, your mind races. Nerves and excitement are almost getting the best of you. Steve was just so cute, Eddie knew exactly what he was doing by introducing you both.

The place is surprisingly cosy, pool tables dimly lit by orange colored lights. It’s reminiscent of a bar from back home, all hard wood and walls covered in various pieces of movie and alcohol paraphernalia. There are people scattered here and there, in booths and at the bandits, playing games of darts and billiards.

Steve's sat at the bar on an old vintage barstool, side on to you. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt, washed out Levi jeans clung to his muscular legs and a pair of Adidas trainers with green stripes on his feet. He looked relaxed, floppy hair falling into his eyes.

You were a goner already.

As you approach the bar, Steve must sense your presence, as he looks up with a grin, "Hey! Where's Eddie?"

"Parking up the van," you smile, taking the stool next to him and jumping up onto it, trying to ignore the way your tits bounce very obviously with the motion, "I wouldn't bother ordering him a drink yet, though. He's, uh, occupied."

Steve's mouth opens in an understanding 'ah'. It was no secret how Eddie made money, and you were sure Steve had to be used to this by now.

The bartender comes over and you order some fancy cocktail on the menu that consists of Coke, dark rum and cherry liqueur. It comes with a Maraschino cherry on top, and you can't hide the excitement on your face as you take your first sip.

Steve watches you with an amused grin, "You look like you're enjoying that drink."

"Oh, I absolutely am," you reply all too quickly, "a day of Eddie's shenanigans are enough to warrant a good drink."

Steve leans in closer to you, his eyes flickering over your body none too subtly, the charm ramping up with every sip of his Bud, "I think we’ve spoken far too much about Eddie for now. Tell me a little about yourself, honey."

Honey. There's that damn nickname again, enough to make you melt in a puddle off your barstool. There was no denying that Harrington knew what he was doing.

You shrug, going for nonchalant as you lock eyes, "Nothing to tell, really. I work in a little coffee shop during the day, and at night I guess I'm still trying to figure things out."

Steve nods in understanding, "What kind of things?"

You take another sip of your drink, relishing in the way it buzzes through your body, "Where I fit in the world, I guess. What I wanna do with my life in the long term. I’ve been in a rut for a while."

"I get that. Working in a video store in my mid twenties wasn’t really the plan set out for me, either." Steve responds with a furrowed brow, brutally honest, "Has Eddie told you much about me?"

You consider, "Not really. Just that you're a ladies man and you’re forever swiping the ‘hottest babes in Hawkins’ out from under him, but you know Eddie, he's a bit. Theatrical."

Steve chuckles, a flush on his freckled cheeks, as he leans in closer to you, "Between you and me, he's not wrong. Just haven't found the one to settle down with yet."

At the close proximity, you can really take in Steve. He's all tanned skin covered in gorgeous beauty marks, a strong neck with prominent veins, muscular arms but clearly on the softer side like he didn't take it too serious. He was like a Greek statue, his nose like it was carved from the same stone.

You flush, taking another - albeit larger - sip of your drink, swirling the ice in the glass, "So, do you pick up all the chicks in Family Video?"

Steve smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "You recommend a chick flick to a girl and it's like a moth to a flame."

You do laugh at that, rolling your eyes fondly and nudging his shoulder with your own, "That's how you knew what movie Eddie meant! Romcoms are your strong suit for flirting purposes?"

Steve's hazel eyes run over your face softly, his soft, pink lips jutted out slightly, "Would it have worked on you, if Eddie wasn't there?"

Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by Steve's question, if only momentarily. "Yeah, I think so. Y'know, if it was actually the movie I was looking for and not an excuse for Eddie to mortify me."

Steve grins, big and wide at that. Your faces are so close together that if he leaned forward just a smidge more you could rub noses. At this distance, you find yourself being drawn into his orbit, nudging closer to him subconsciously.

"Guess Eddie's bailed on us, huh?" Steve chuckles, moving back a bit and looking at the clock above the bar, the time ticking past an hour with no sign of Eddie coming back, "Or maybe it was his plan all along?"

"He's a schemer." You hum, watching curiously as Steve flags down the bartender and orders you both another drink. You try not to panic about the lack of cash in your back pocket, hoping the drinks weren't too expensive.

As your conversation dies down, your eyes are drawn back to his neck. It's covered in an array of moles and freckles, and you find yourself becoming almost mesmerized by it as he swigs from his beer bottle.

His neck is strong and muscular, tendons protruding as he gulps down the warm beer. The dusting of week old stubble adds to the masculinity of it all. It's a beautiful feature, one that you can't help but stare at with hazy eyes, and the markings scattered across his skin just make it more attractive.

Without even realizing it, your hand lifts, drawn to the smooth skin on the right hand side. You trace your fingertips along a particular set of the moles, shaped like carved out fang bites, feeling the texture against the pads of your fingers.

Steve looks at you, his darkened eyes filled with curiosity and something else entirely. You can't help but blush as you realize what you've been doing, only to find your fingers continue to roam across the skin anyway.

"Is my neck really that fascinating?" He teases, a slight chuckle falling from his lips.

You laugh lightly, trying to play it cool as your fingertips slip from the stubble roughened skin, dancing across the open collar of his shirt playfully before falling back to your glass, "Maybe it's just a bit distracting."

Steve smirks, that look in his eyes causing your heart to rabbit in your chest, "You know, I could get used to having your hands on me."

The huskiness in his voice catches you off guard, and you subtly clench your thighs together, aware of the fluttering in your gut as he leans in closer.

You roll your eyes playfully, trying to cover your blush by raising your cocktail glass to your lips, "You're such a flirt."

Steve only shifts closer at that, his shoulder bumping yours gently, "And what if I am?" He asks, lips so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath dampen the skin, "You're the one with your hands all over me, honey."

Your breath catches in your throat, a hot spike of heady need and want coursing through your body. It's a momentary slip, one that Steve no doubt catches immediately, "I never said I wasn't enjoying it."

Your voice is barely above a whisper, Steve's close proximity somehow narrowing further as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, "Trust me, honey. I know you're enjoying it, you've had those pretty thighs of yours clamped together for a moment now. Gotta relieve that ache, huh?"

You shiver visibly, goosebumps rising across your neck and down your arms, jolts of electricity coursing through your body. As if Steve can sense it, he lets his own - unfairly, painfully large, veiny - hand run over your thigh, just above the knee. He traces the curve of your thigh through your jeans, barely touching but it's enough to make you ache for more.

Two seconds or five minutes later, who knows, he pulls away from your ear. You gawk, unsubtle, as he takes a long sip of his drink as if nothing ever happened. He smacks his lips together, those hazel eyes landing on yours again, a playful smile on his lips, "Where were we again?"

You try to play it cool, but your body is reacting to Steve, still reeling from the feeling of his touch all over you, "Uh. Um," you start, making yourself busy by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "we were talking about our favorite movies, I think?"

Steve's face kind of screws up into a fake 'ah-hah!' as you blindly (and wrongly) fill in the blanks for him, seemingly completely unfazed by what just happened, "Right! You said your favorite of all time was Dirty Dancing, right?"

He’s making it up right before your eyes, playing along. And it’s painfully unfortunate that he’s right without even trying, guessing your favorite movie right out the gate. It makes your brain go a little fuzzy.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. Even as Steve's own godforsaken hand continues to rest casually on your leg, his thumb running circles over your inner thigh, just above the knee, "Yeah, absolutely. Patrick Swayze, he's just swoonworthy."

You say it so casually, as if Steve himself didn't look like Swayze. More James Dalton than Johnny Castle, though. The hair, the tight black shirt, the jeans hugged perfectly to the swell of his ass and the curve of his muscular thighs. You had a type, clearly.

"Don't tell anyone, but Roadhouse is my favorite movie of all time." Steve grins, as if reading your thoughts from across the way, "Patrick Swayze, huh? Your type buff guys with a soft side?"

"I would've thought me sticking around on this ‘date’ with you was enough of a giveaway on that front." You giggle, finally finding the courage to tip the last of your drink to your lips, swallowing it down in one fluid motion. You feel Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your leg, feel his eyes on you as you pretend not to notice.

You know you should move his hand away, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The feeling of his touch more intoxicating than the rum-filled drink you'd found yourself nursing, the hot feeling in your gut growing and growing the higher Steve's hand goes.

"And here I was, thinking it was just my natural charm keeping you stuck in that seat." Steve says with a chuckle, running circles around your inner thigh like it's not making your insides squirm.

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your tipsy smile. There's just something about Steve, something so naturally charming that draws you in - he's confident without it being too much, and the way a stormy look swarms in his hazel eyes doesn't help with the physical pull you feel towards him.

The more he touches you, the more he looks at you, the more distracted you are by him. The alcohol coursing through your veins does nothing but amplify the warmth spreading through your body at his heavy petting.

He's beautiful, and you're blissfully comfortable in his presence, comfortable enough that the lull in conversation isn't even awkward. You look at each other through heavy lids, find yourself smacking your glossed lips together prettily, leaning your chin on your palm, elbow on the bar.

Finally, you speak, "So, do you always put these moves on your customers like this? Or am I special?" You drawl, teasing.

Steve leans in, his hand skating higher up your thigh, so close to the warm heat between your legs that you squirm a little, "Only the ones who make the moves first. You started this, remember?"

Your heart rate kicks up a little more, and for a moment you forget where you are. All you can think about is Steve's wandering hand, the bedroom eyes he's giving you like he wants to devour you in public. You want nothing more than for him to pull you in for a kiss, to lose your inhibition and get lost in the heat of the moment.

Somebody across the room begins hollering, crashing you back to reality, and it's a sobering reminder that there are dozens of people in this bar, who can see exactly what's happening right now. You clear your throat, shuffling back on your barstool a little, regretfully.

Steve's face falls, the flirty smirk gone in an instant, his hand dropping back down to your knee. You want to throw a tantrum like a little kid, tell him that it's not him, that you want it. Want whatever he's offering, just not here.

"We should maybe call it a night?" You offer, nodding towards the door, "I've probably gotta catch the bus back home, I know it leaves soon, so..."

You trail off and Steve nods, the disappointed look still on his face but a charming smirk gracing it once again, "Of course, I'll walk you over to the stop."

Steve pays the tab like it's nothing, throwing bills and a nice tip on the bar for the guy who served you. As you leave the bar and walk out into the cool night air, it hits you fast just how much the drinks have gone to your head.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks gently, a strong arm snaking around your waist. "My apartment isn't far from here, we can walk back there and sober up a bit? I can drive you home in a few hours."

If it weren't for the fact you knew Steve, Eddie knew Steve, and he was known for being a decent guy despite his reputation, you'd have shot it down in a heartbeat. But, the opportunity to be in his presence a little longer was something you didn't want to give up.

And, honestly, you didn’t know which bus would get you back anywhere close to the trailer park, not knowing Hawkins from Adam. This was easily the safest option.

You look up at him, snuggling into him on instinct, "Are you sure? I don't mind catching the bus, Steve. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

Steve beams at that, teeth shining as he looks down at you, his eyes fixed on yours, "You might be able to, but I wanna look after you tonight. And besides, I don't think either of us are ready for this to be over yet."

You hide your small laugh into his shoulder, unable to ignore the strong smell of cedarwood and bergamot wafting from his shirt, intoxicating in its own right. The giddy feeling that erupts in you is almost juvenile.

You walk down the streets quietly, taking in the pretty sunset that dims the strip in pretty pinks and oranges. There's a comfortable tension between you both, like you're both attempting to play it cool but the attraction is too strong to stop you from pulling into each other. He never once takes his hand off your waist, and that's a revelation all on its own.

Finally, you reach Steve's apartment, a cozy little bottom floor space. It's minimalistic, like a typical guy's apartment, but it feels homely. Smells like fresh laundry and the same aftershave you'd been smelling the entire walk over.

Steve looks regretful as he untangles himself from you, throwing his keys down on a table at the front door, "Take a seat, honey. I'll go get you something to drink."

It's all open planned, the entryway leading straight into the living room, where a simple leather sofa and matching lazy boy sit. You throw yourself down ungracefully on the sofa, tucking yourself into the corner with a leg pulled up under your opposite thigh.

There's two pictures on a sideboard, one of Steve and Eddie with two women you don't recognize at what looked like an outdoor gig, amongst a crowd of concertgoers. Another with the Hellfire kids, who you wouldn't know if it weren't for Eddie. The lack of family pictures are telling, though you don't dwell on it.

"Lemonade okay?" Steve asks, a pitcher in hand and a few small cups in the other, "I mean, I do have whiskey and beer if you wanna keep the party going?"

"Lemonade's great." Your voice is fond, unable to keep the smile off your face as Steve sets them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking so domestic it makes you ache.

Your eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back, his strong shoulders in that same tight tee, the way his moles and freckles even continue past the neckline. You wonder if he's covered completely, that same dull throb between your legs returning even as you sober up.

"Stop staring, you'll give me a complex." Steve drawls, not turning to look at you as he pours the cool lemonade into the glasses. You flush warm, averting your eyes.

He throws himself down onto the sofa right next to you, body also tilted so that you're facing each other, though your legs touch, burning hot through layers of starchy denim.

"I'm sure plenty of girls have been caught staring at you over the years, Harrington." You counter eventually, mouth dry.

"None that looked quite as hungry for it as you do right now." Steve quips, that same flirty smirk on his lips as he hands you your drink, "I didn't say I didn't like it, though."

Heat creeps up your neck, the need to take a drink intensifying. You do just that, sipping from the glass in your hand.

Steve's a real handful, and the longer you spend in his presence, the less you know how to handle it. Your body reacting and taking over for your brain, any playful retorts dying in your throat.

"So," Steve starts, no doubt sensing your awkwardness, "tell me. How did you meet Eddie?"

You pause for a moment, caught off guard by the question, "How did I meet Eddie?" You laugh a little, flippant, "Before he came to Hawkins to live with Wayne, he lived in my town. He came home last Christmas break and we met at a friend's party."

Steve raises an eyebrow, "A friend's party?"

You smile. "It's not a crazy story, just a guy we both knew at different times. We just clicked I guess, we have similar interests and he just has this way of making you feel comfortable and safe. I can see why you're friends, you're so alike in that way."

It's Steve’s turn to blush, a flush of pink spreading over his nose and cheeks cutely, "What a compliment. That's cool though, so you didn't know each other before he moved?"

You shake your head, "Nah, he's a little older so we missed each other. But, our friend - Carter, told me this hilarious story about how he got kicked out of middle school that I've got to tell you..."

You trail off, telling the story that Steve genuinely laughs at, this booming, goofy thing that is just so goddamn endearing.

Steve listens intently, like he's genuinely interested. His gaze locked on yours, like he's trying to memorize every single thing you're saying. You don't miss his fond looks as you talk with your hands, gesturing wildly as you tell the story.

And then, without warning, he leans in with a strong hand on the side of your neck, fingertips sliding into your hair.

He gives you enough time to pull back, a moment to say no that you choose not to take. His lips brush yours, soft and tender at first until you're melting into his touch, deepening the kiss with a surge of your body.

His hand almost engulfs your neck, thumb running gently over your trachea as your chest rolls into his, desperate to get closer. The light smacking sounds of wet lips making you light headed, your hand coming out to tug at the material of Steve's shirt to steady yourself.

Steve's tongue slithers out to swipe your bottom lip and you're a goner, climbing ungracefully into his lap, knocking him back against the sofa. He lets out a startled huff, both hands coming out to bracket your waist when you allow him entry into your mouth.

It's raw, messy and a little bit gross. Steve tastes like beer and a tang of the lemonade he'd been sipping, a hint of something else under there, a heady cinnamon. It's intoxicating, more than the drinks you'd nursed in the bar, and you find your hips rolling down into his on instinct, desperate to show him how much you wanted him.

He grunts, hands rocking you and helping you along. He's not hard yet, not at all, but the way he's moving your body is clear enough that he's into it as your tongues slip back and forth. He pulls back a little, the kiss becoming light and you let him guide you.

"Sorry, I just," Steve looks up at you with wild eyes, hair fanned out around his face where he lies back against the sofa, "I couldn't help it. You're so kissable, y'know that?"

“Don’t say sorry,” you scold playfully, smirking down at him, “you have my permission to do what you want. Anything you want.”

His hand wanders over your breast teasingly, light touches that you can barely feel through the layers of bra and shirt over your taut nipple, enough to have you arching into the touch in a silent plea for more.

Steve chuckles, deep and mischievous, clearly enjoying how your body melts under the simplest of grazes. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t give one singular fuck as to how desperate you are, pleased and satisfied taking his time with you.

Your hands entangle in his thick chestnut hair, tugging roughly at the root until Steve is moaning, hand faltering to skate down your stomach. Landing on the button of your jeans, but not moving.

“Steve.” You groan, impatient, “Don’t frustrate me or I’ll do it myself. Please?”

Steve tsk’s, his pearly whites gleaming in the low light as he smirks at your desperation, “You don’t like it slow?”

You roll your eyes, tugging his hair again, using it as reins to grind down into him, the heat of your cunt enough to have him grunting quietly. “Slow is boring. Slow means careful. I don’t want you to be careful with me, Steve. Show me how desperate you can be, show me how desperate you are for me.”

Steve’s eyes flash so dark they’re near black, the sweetness still lurking vanishing in an instant. He gives you one last squeeze to your ass before he’s using both hands to practically rip the button of your jeans, fingers slipping into the tight denim and beneath the satin of your panties.

“I’ll show you, you impatient brat,” he grunts, fingertips sliding between your folds and his eyes roll back at the feeling, “like fucking velvet, honey. You’re so wet, how long you been like this for me?”

“Somewhere between entering the bar and you touching my thigh.” You breathe, crying out when his pointer and middle finger slide into you at once, a blissful stretch that takes your goddamn breath away.

“So easy for it.” Steve coos, and it would be offensive if it weren’t for the way he looks at you with honey swirled irises, soft at the edges despite the bite of his words.

The hand not preoccupied with your cunt grips for your throat, thumb pressing into your pulse point as Steve surges forward to capture your lips once again. It’s rough, intimate, the graze of Steve’s stubble rubbing your chin raw as he bullies his tongue into your mouth.

Your brain short circuits, his tongue reducing you to a bumbling, sobbing mess as you grind down into his palm, clit catching and rubbing against the dry skin in the most painfully beautiful way.

The air is thick with sexual tension, thicker than the strands of hair you pull and tug at, thicker than the outline of his cock that you can feel digging into the fat of your inner thigh.

“That’s it,” Steve mumbles against your lips, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against that little bump on your frontal wall that has your hips jumping forward of their own accord, “don’t hold back, honey. Let me hear you fall apart for me.”

It’s domineering. He’s fully in control and you’re letting him as you rut against the palm of his hand, sweat coating your brow as you fuck your hips against him, desperate to reach the edge.

The plushness of his lips kiss down your jaw, to your throat where he latches on and sucks his mark into your skin. Sure to be a beautiful purple bloom in the morning, a temporary reminder that he was there. You want to beg for more.

So you do.

“Mark me like I’m yours.” You cry, whimper, even. Your body runs hot, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your impending orgasm starts to build.

You swear you feel the smirk against your flushed throat. Steve latches onto you again, this time lower down, wider. You pull his hair, sighing contentedly as he suckles, nibbles at your tender flesh to produce yet another mark.

His hips jump up against yours, a momentary slip that makes you want to plead for his cock, your brain so fuzzy with the need to rut and fuck that you’re about to give up the orgasm you’re so close to getting.

“You’re clenching so tight around my fingers, baby,” Steve moans, kissing soothingly over the thumping ache of a bruise he’s left on your neck, “you gonna cum for me?”

The white hot flashes of want and hunger you feel prickle up your back only intensify with his words, the end in sight as you ride against the palm of his hand feverishly, your clit sliding beautifully over the flesh.

Your orgasm rips through you like a fucking knife to the stomach, your fingers gripping and pulling Steve’s hair so tightly that his head snaps back with the sheer force. You sob wetly, riding his fingers with jerky hips as he fucks you through it, eyes bleary but focused enough to see the hungry way he looks at you falling apart for him, soaking your panties and his fingers in the process.

“You needed that one, huh?” Steve coos, mocking you lightheartedly as his fingers deftly slip from inside of you. You try your best to ignore the way it makes you feel empty.

You nod dumbly after a moment, the whooshing in your ears beginning to fade out. You collapse into his chest with a small, contented sigh.

It takes only a mere few seconds for you to get with the program once more, kissing tenderly at Steve’s mole flecked neck, burying in to nip with your teeth hesitantly. Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, grinding down into the incredibly prominent bulge that rests hard against his zipper.

He grunts, hips thrusting up into yours as you move in some sort of slow, aching rhythm. His wide hands practically engulf your waist, fingertips digging into soft, supple flesh to help you rock your tired body against his own.

It feels so fucking good, your body reacting to his in a way that was genuinely concerning, the primal need to fuck and have him inside of you taking over any kind of inhibition you previously had. He feels big, thick and hot nestled between your folds through two layers of rough denim, and the desperation ramps up.

You whine, pathetic into his salty, sweat damp skin, “Need more. Need you inside me, Steve.”

Steve groans like he’s in pain, hips jerking up involuntarily like they have a mind of their own, knocking you both out of the rhythm, “You sound so pretty when you beg. I’ll take care of you, honey. Knock you dumb just like you need.”

The sound you make is so pathetic that you instantly bury your face tighter into his skin, fingernails biting at the back of his neck. Steve’s hands are under your ass in a second, gripping to your thighs as he flips you onto your back on the sofa, muscular thighs spreading your legs impossibly wide as he buries between them.

“You need these off.” He grunts, pulling at the baggy denim of your jeans with rough fingers. You barely have the coherency to lift your ass up to help him wriggle you out of the offending material, body practically limp after the bone melting orgasm he just gave you with practiced ease.

“This too?” He asks gently, reaching for your top. You nod, lifting yourself up so he can slip it over your head, leaving you in only your bra and panties.

You don’t wait for him to ask before you’re unclasping your bra, pulling that off so that your tits are bared too. They look great, your best feature if you did say so yourself, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult decision to make.

He marvels at you for a second too long, taking in the sight of your body laid out below him, and those stormy eyes of his look deeper yet again – he looks hungry. Instead of it making you self conscious, it only spurs you on.

You wrap your legs around his torso, thick thighs pulling him in until he’s losing his balance and having to lean one arm out against the arm of the sofa to brace himself over you. The gold of his chain dangles close to your mouth, cooling the plumpness of your bottom lip with every gentle sway.

“Down, girl,” Steve scolds, though that cocky smirk still graces his features and makes him look so painfully hot it makes your pussy flutter, “I gotta go get a condom.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “And risk ruining the moment? You’re clean, right?”

Steve nods, that cock-sure confidence faltering for a second, “Are you?”

You nod, biting at your bottom lip, “Haven’t done this for a while, big boy. You think you have the restraint to pull out in time?”

Steve shudders visibly at your question, a heady whimper escaping his lips, “I can try my best, but no promises, honey. I felt how tight and soaked you were around my fingers, if you feel too good I’m not responsible for the consequences.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it cuts off into a moan when Steve lifts himself up and away from your body for long enough to stretch his arms behind his neck, pulling his shirt off from the back of his head with one fluid movement.

He’s a marvel. The moles and beauty marks extend the entire way down his torso, even below his belt line, arms sculpted beautifully and his tummy muscular yet still soft. He’s everything, your belly flutters looking at this fucking perfect man sat between your spread thighs like some sort of Greek marble statue.

“Holy. Wow.” Your mouth is dry, your hands having a mind of their own yet again – just like in the bar – and coming out to touch and squeeze the flesh of his torso. Steve smirks, like he knows what you’re so hung up about, arching into your touch.

He allows you the seconds of indulgence before it’s back to business, his fingers making light work of his belt and jeans as he regrettably departs his space between your naked legs to push the material down his legs and away from your bodies.

His dick is so heavy that even though it’s fully hard, it doesn’t slap against his tummy, hanging slightly forward with its own weight. He’s big. Alarmingly big. And did you mention thick? Really thick.

God. He was going to be a stretch.

Steve grins sheepishly, settling back between your legs hesitantly. He makes to speak, but you stop him in his tracks;

“You’ve not gotta be gentle,” you reassure, reminding him of your words before he dipped his hands into your panties just minutes ago, “fuck me like you mean it.”

Steve groans, burying his face into your neck as he lines himself up with your cunt and pushes in with one fluid motion. It knocks the breath out of the both of you for a moment, and you whimper pitifully at the gorgeous, burning ache of him stretching you out to fit him perfectly.

“Holy shit,” He breathes, panting into your neck, “so fucking tight for me, honey.”

You preen at Steve’s words, arching into his torso and somehow pushing him in even deeper. He had no idea just how much it stroked your ego to hear those words, no idea that it turned your insides into goo to know you were doing so good for him before it even started.

He rolls his hips into yours, the wet heat of your cunt gripping him, and you pant like an animal in heat when the subtle movement causes the coarse hair nestled in his mons to catch onto your sensitive clit.

Your hips wriggle a little after a moment, a sign to let him know it’s okay to move, and Steve takes that subtle movement and runs with it — pulling out only to slam back in again, knocking your body up the couch.

It’s maddening. Your body runs hot with want and desperation, insides molding to the shape of his – quite frankly, annoyingly big - dick with each thrust, driving you absolutely insane in the process. The cut head rubs against that damn spot each time, and you know he’s going to tip you over for a second time all too soon.

“Fuck.” You cry, hands coming up to bury in his mane of hair once again and tug him down, “Fucking — how does it feel to be Gods favorite?”

Steve grins, mischievous and lust bitten around the edges as he sinks into your cunt with a quickening pace, “Stroke my ego baby, I love it.”

“Don’t get cocky, Stevie. Or I’ll just shut my mouth.”

The grin turns salacious, a large hand coming out to wrap along the expanse of your throat, just resting and not pushing, thumb caressing the side of your neck soothingly, “Don’t you wanna be good for me, honey? Or are you bratting so that I’ll give you what you really crave?”

You whimper involuntarily, and that's all the confirmation Steve needs to really drive into you. Your back arches so that your torsos flush together, and he snakes a hand beneath the curve to grip onto your waist from below.

“Oh my God!” You moan, body jolting at the change of angle. You’re turned into a babbling mess, fingernails digging into each of Steve’s biceps as he fucks you deep, rough enough to leave a mind numbing sting that you swear you feel in your damn throat.

He’s looking at you with this wild expression, eyes wide like he’s drinking you in, watching each emotion he evokes from you with his body, “That’s it, taking me so fucking good. You like being fucked like a whore, honey?”

You nod, knocked dumb, mouth hung open like a pliant slut, a constant steady stream of whines and shuddering gasps falling from parted lips with each deep slide of his cock inside of you.

“You trust me?” He whispers, lips hovering just mere centimeters from your own, and you nod again, going cross eyed.

A drop of saliva hangs from Steve’s pursed lips, sliding down into your open mouth and onto your tongue. You cry out, pathetic and desperate as you swallow down the spit like it’s cool water on a hot summers day.

Steve shudders against you, hips slamming into you as his thrusts become erratic. You pray his apartment is somewhat soundproof, for all you can hear is the wet slap of skin on skin mixed with dirty moaning and pitiful cries.

“You’re perfect,” Steve mutters, sloppily kissing your lips before moving back to your jaw, worrying the flesh between his teeth like he can’t help it, “a fucking dream, honey. See how you’re ruining me?”

You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s dropping your body back onto the sofa, his thumb swiping over your clit in a desperate attempt to get you there before he does.

It’s all too much. Your body runs hot, static surging up your back, hot in your gut as he works you over. You have to clench your eyes shut, painfully aware of his sculpted body gleaming with sweat, the swivel of his hips as his cock buries deep into you.

Your second orgasm hits you just as hard as your first, your legs shaking and cunt clenching sporadically as it washes over you like a fiery inferno, gasps and wet cries of Steve’s name and other incoherent nonsense spewing from your lips.

“Oh shit, holy fuck, baby you feel so – so good, god I’m gonna cum,” Steve shallowly fucks into you, jerky and desperate, “where do you want me to– fuck!”

You open your eyes within enough time to see Steve pull out of you, sloppily tugging at his cock two, three times before he’s spilling all over your stomach. Hot spurts of it cover you from your belly button the whole way to your chest, and you swear you’ve never seen a man cum so much in your damn life.

It’s so hot. Being branded by ropes of cooling semen, sparking over finger bitten skin and bruises made by warm and heavy lips.

There’s a long second afterwards, where Steve sags heavily against the couch as his dick softens, both of you panting and trying to catch a breath.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve’s voice shocks you out of the contented post-orgasm haze, his hand squeezing your inner thigh gently as he gets up from where he’s perched, off in search of what you don’t know.

He reappears with a wet washcloth, and it’s all very domesticated as he wipes you down gently with the cool towel, fingers gentle against your sore skin in a stark contrast to just moments earlier.

You’re both completely naked still. This should be strange, but it doesn’t feel that way. Steve makes you feel painfully at ease and that’s something your orgasm fogged brain can’t comprehend or bear to think about right now.

“This might be a bit presumptuous, but,” Steve hums, inspecting your body to make sure he’s cleaned you down good enough for his liking, smirking as you squirm under his gaze, “do you wanna stay the night? It’s really late and, uh, well I don’t wanna kick you out after that. It was a bit intense.”

Your eyes are bleary. Fuck. He’s going to ruin you for anybody else.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your voice is soft, quiet as you rise from the soiled sofa to sit up properly, “You’ll need to call Eddie, let him know I’m okay.”

“I think he knows you’re all good,” Steve grins sheepishly, helping you to your feet and tugging you close as soon as you’re up, “I might’ve called him when I was in the kitchen earlier, let him know you were here to sober up.”

You roll your eyes with a small smile, leaning into him with a heavy sigh, “You better have a comfy bed.”

“The comfiest.” Steve confirms, dragging you gently towards the door, “I also have a really big shower, and really good water pressure, so…”

“Oh my God, I’m never leaving.” You mumble into his chest, giggling playfully when he lifts you up ever so slightly with his muscular arms and knocks the bedroom door shut behind you.

part 2?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington blurb #mine #my fanfic #x reader

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thecrabbybarista · 5 months ago

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We should talk about The Lords in Black I'm gonna do that right now because I wanna talk about their trope subversion and symbolism and shit.

So obviously The Lords in Black are a subversion of Cosmic/Eldritch horror and I'm gonna explain how using an ant metaphor

So the classic ant metaphor for cosmic horror is to imagine that you're an ant encountering a piece of human technology, right? I believe it's usually a circuit board. The whole point is you're witnessing something deeply incomprehensible and unfamiliar.

The ant metaphor for the Lords in Black is: imagine you're an ant and a teenager starts burning you with a magnifying glass.

It's still incomprehensible, but not in the way the complexities of a circuit board is. If you were suddenly stricken by a scalding beam of light, the only way you could rationalize that is that it was an act of a god. You and your ant colony would invent and fear this god.

The Lords in Black each represent a kind of strange and inscrutable cruelty that the modern world offers, the cursed lasers that cut into our souls, from places we have no power over.

Wiggly is obviously the idol of capitalism. Animalistic desperation, commodity fetishization, and the exchange of money, products, and emotions. All of the things that the other Lords represent stem from elements of capitalism, hence why Wiggly is THE Lord in Black, the leader of his brothers. What Wiggly offers will never be enough. He is what leaves you always unsatisfied.

Nibbly is the idol of the consumption of human beings as products. Obsession with self image and presentability, trends of all kinds, and the beauty and fitness industries. People in the modern age are desperate to be consumable, and some would go to any lengths to do so. This is an attitude that especially impacts women, who feel that they need to wear make up every day just to earn respect. And when we feel the need to change to be respectable, the need to look appealing and to be consumable, the bourgeois eat well. Our quest to look special makes us like any other customer, filling. It's no mistake that the two leads of Honey Queen are women desperate to be noticed and respected. It makes them all the more eager to be eaten.

Tinky is the idol of infinity and repetition. Dead end jobs, middle class suburbia, and the inability to escape one's circumstances. It's no coincidence that the first time we see Tinky is at a wedding, a ceremony dedicated to eternal commitment, or that he's associated with CCRP, a company in which most of the workers do useless busywork all day. When you look at the life you have ahead of you, it can feel crushing. Will you ever have a real career to be proud of, or will you be stuck at this job until you die? Will you ever not struggle to make rent? Will you really love your spouse forever? What if you don't? Isn't it just easier to continue the routine than to address the problem? After Ted is driven to insanity by the Bastard's Box, after he discovers that he can't escape the person he's become, he becomes homeless, one of the most terrifying eternities a person can find themselves in, fully dependent on random acts of kindness to survive while your situation drives you further into insanity.

Blinky is the idol of the panopticon. Gossip, public drama, and unwanted attention. One of the first things Blinky does on screen is sexually objectify a girl who's fresh out of high school, and this plainly displays a consequence of living in a content driven world. There is constant scrutiny and interpretation given to your every action. At any moment, you could have over a thousand eyes on you, whether you want them there or not. The panopticon we live in captures us in moments of time, and turns the person we were in that moment into an object deserving anger, embarrassment, lust, admiration, judgement, or anything else a watcher might assign. But Blinky also targets another fear, the fear that we feel when we can't see the danger, and cannot protect ourselves or those we love. Alice's anxiety that Deb might cheat on her when she's not around are made manifest in Watcher World, and Bill's frustration at not being let into Alice's life are used against the family. We are inclined to both want and fear the panopticon. We hide, and we seek, and we expose.

Pokey is the idol of tyranny. Complacency, sedation, and obedience. The world revolves around the few and uses the many in service of this. We are all expected to fill some role in service to the rich, to work for a corporation and to buy the products of those corporations, and when we cannot fill these roles we are at risk of starving, or being kicked out of our homes. We must join them in their quest for profit, or die. But we must also accept their pacifiers or we will be driven insane. We must choose between complacency or despair in confronting our place in the world as a pawn, as an ant in the colony. Isn't it easier to accept the comforting lies? Your job is important. Corporations give people what they want. People in power deserve their power. People in power are using it well. We are happy. America is great.

These are the magnifying glasses that are being used to torment us, that we cannot make reason out of, that we've made dark gods out of. But this isn't the first time humanity has encountered scorching light from the heavens. When the people of ancient Greece witnessed burning rods of light, falling viciously from the heavens, they invented Zeus.

But we know where lightning comes from now. We know the science behind electricity and its place in the world. We know what keeps lightning away and what attracts it. We can protect ourselves from it.

But there's an important difference. Lightning is natural. It's existed long before we have and it will continue when we're gone.

The unorthodox cruelty of being alive today is not natural. We cannot logic our way into surviving it because it does not operate under a sound logic. But we can make things a little more bearable by focusing on what is sound, understandable and natural.

There is humanity. There are families friends and lovers who would go to the ends of earth to protect each other. As long as we have this humanity, we have hope.

That's why Miss Holloway's deal with the Lords erases her from living memory after her temporary deaths. To have the powers that she does she gave away the power most important to have under the Lord's rule: human connection. The only real thing we have left.

Alice and Bill escaped Blinky's manipulation through the love they have for each other

Emma survived the longest out of any character in tgwdlm because of the genuine hope Paul gave her of a better future

Lex snapped Tom out of Wiggly's control by reminding him of what his son really means to him

Ted couldn't escape Tinky's plan for him because he was too jaded to make a genuine connection with a woman.

Linda was eaten by Nibbly because she didn't have a loving connection with her father, because her father always made her believe that she was never good enough, because this mindset led her to take for granted the connections she did have in her life.

The world no longer cares about us. We have to care for each other. It's the only thing we have left

#starkid #tgwdlm #black friday #nightmare time #npmd #hatchetfield #pokotho #bliklotep #tnoy karaxis #nibblenephim #wiggog y'wrath

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 11 months ago

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The Stunt ^**

This one is based off of the following request where Harry and Y/N are in a PR relationship and he realizes he likes her until it's all over.

A shout out to whoever created that AI pic, it was a repost from TikTok so I'm not sure who actually made it!

Warnings: PR relationship, mentions of PR drama from the past/present, heartbreak & failed relationships, verbal arguments, jealousy, a quick non-consensual kiss, alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex

WC: 19.6K

It seemed really stupid to you, a PR relationship with your co-star for a film? Sure, this was your debut into acting, but you had confidence in your ability to perform well and were certain that the film would do great, it was a lovely story! You didn’t need additional PR help to make the film successful. You loved the script, it was a nice, yet realistic friends-to-lovers story. It had range, happiness, sadness, comedy, intimacy…you wouldn’t have chosen a stupid script for your first attempt at the silver screen! So the fact that your agent had written this into the contract with whoever your co-star was going to be, it felt a little insulting to you.

“It’s offensive! I don’t want to fake date anyone, Fred!” You whined into the phone, “Everyone’s going to see it coming from a mile off…what if they cast someone I hate? What’s gonna happen then?” You asked and he spoke calmly, trying to appease you.

“Think of it as more acting practice! You have to act like you’re into the person when in public.”

“No one is going to agree to that.”

“Sweetheart, everyone will agree to it. It’s a classic PR move! They’re just gonna be kicking themselves for not thinking of it first! It basically guarantees film success for these rom-com type of things.” He said and you sighed and nearly hung up out of frustration. You wished that he had at least asked your permission before including this in the contract.

A few weeks later you were called in by the production and directing team for a few chemistry tests with the two actors that they were split between. They didn’t want to tell you who they were looking at for casting as to prevent any bias on your part during the chemistry read. They wanted to see it for themselves who you vibed with the most. Fred had told you to stop trying to figure it out because both picks were fairly new to the acting world. And when the day came, you were sick to your stomach. You hardly ate anything since the night before because of it.

When you were introduced to the first guy you did recognize him a bit but you couldn’t really place him. He shared that he had done a lot of supporting work and this would be his first time in a lead role if he got it. He was trying so hard though, trying to make it look like you guys were vibing well. Your interactions felt really inauthentic. The way he would knock his head back and laugh in an exaggerated manner whenever you said something slightly humorous, the way he would lean in closer to speak to you, and touch your arm or shoulder even when you crossed them over your body to indicate that you were uncomfortable. Then when you guys did a couple of test scenes, one of them being the lead up to one of the more intense dialogues between the characters, he came on really strong and theatrically and it was cringey; even you knew that he wasn’t it as they thanked him for his time and off he went.

“We’re gonna break for a few minutes. Meet back in here in 10!” Someone announced and you took full advantage to go make yourself a tea while they reset the makeshift “set”. Fred knew better than to talk to you right now, you were still quite annoyed at him for putting you in the PR dating situation. So when you felt someone come up beside you, you didn’t say anything, he’d get the hint.

“Ummm, pardon?” You heard an unfamiliar voice and you did a double take over your shoulder when you realized that the person who was looming behind you patiently was Harry Styles, the glasses he had on threw you off a bit.

“Oh god, sorry! I’m taking up the whole counter aren’t I?” You apologized as you grabbed your phone and dropped it in your purse and grabbed that from the top of the counter to make space for him and he smiled at you.

“That’s alright.” He assured you, “I just wanted to introduce myself before we all have to head back in.” He explained and you nodded. You quickly set down your tea packet and extended your hand to his and you shook it firmly and briefly. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself.

“Y/N.” You smiled warmly.

“I know. Umm, I really liked your EP.” He said to you and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh wow, thank you so much! I like your glasses.” You said stupidly and he laughed as he glanced down at the ground between you and you mentally scolded yourself, “ Y-your albums too!” You added in, “I genuinely love all of your albums.” You giggled, trying to mask the star stuck feeling and embarrassment from your little blunder. “The last one, it was phenomenal! I put so many friends onto it.” You shared and he smiled timidly as he glanced away for a moment again before looking back at you.

“Thank you, that’s very generous of you.” He thanked you modestly, as if he hadn’t won an album of the year Grammy for it.

“It really was the least I could do. Great work.” You assured and he chuckled. You knew that one of his best friends was producing this film and you’d heard rumors that he might be writing on the soundtrack, so while you were shocked that he was here for this chemistry/screen test you didn’t think it too odd. Maybe it was going to help him get the vibes between you and whoever else they cast opposite you so that he could start working on the music. “So are you going to be writing some pieces for the soundtrack?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, I thought the script was so genuine and I don’t know, I’m quite partial to hyperrealistic stories like this. The ones that show the challenges as well as the good things.” He said and you nodded.

“Oh my god, same. I know that films should sometimes be an escape, a reprieve if you will, from reality and just be optimistic and romanticize the good but I really love it when it feels like I’m looking in the mirror, you know? Or when it helps me relate to others more. I just love the humanity so much.” You explained and he nodded along.

“Yeah, definitely.” He agreed. “What do you love most about this story?”

“Just the hope of it all…” you sighed happily, “I mean, who isn’t a sucker for a good friends-to-lovers trope? That whole “it’s been you all along” moment has happened to so many of us, I think. Like it’s the ideal scenario for falling in love, no? When you discover that your love for someone is so much bigger than you thought it was. But what I loved most is the way Cara learns to love herself and knows when to choose herself. It’s shows so much strength and integrity to herself. But yeah, I mean the love story between the two characters is also really great, so…normal.” You hummed.

“Yeah, it’s so pure, isn’t it? I love how it builds so realistically, like you know all the good bits but also all the bad bits of a person and still love them and they you just as you are.”

“Exactly.” You hummed and he smiled.

“And how’d the last guy do with that?” He asked you, “You can be honest, I won’t tell.” He assured you with a little grin.

“Honestly, a little too forced for my liking. Like fake laughing and inside jokes kind of thing, it was a bit cringey. And well, the acting was far too theatrical for film in my opinion. He very clearly comes from a theater background, it was like really over the top.” You explained to him and he hummed.

“Hmmm…Well, I hope I do better than that.” He said and you froze.

“Wait. You’re the other choice?” You asked him and he nodded, “Oh…”

“I didn’t come and say hi just for fun. It was strictly business.” He joked with a playful grin and you shook your head in disbelief.

“And here I thought you were just here out of the kindness of your heart. To like pick up on the vibes for inspiration for the music.” You chuckled, feeling even more nervous now. “I was basically told that this was amateur hour by my agent.”

“Well, between the two of us, I’m quite the amateur when it comes to acting.” He said and you laughed a little in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is my first acting gig since…my high school play where I was dragged into playing Rizzo because the original cast member dropped out the week before because she hated how she looked in the wig!” You exclaimed, “Please forget the modesty. You’ve been in a Nolan film!” You said to him and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, and all I did was swim around in the freezing cold ocean trying not to drown in that heavy ass uniform. The panic I portrayed was very real! There was no acting talent required. I was genuinely fighting for my life on that set.” He joked and you laughed and shook your head.

“Well, I think you’ll get the part. We’re genuinely laughing, right? Or are you acting so well that I can’t tell whether it’s genuine or not?” You asked and he raised his eyebrows smugly.

“Definitely acting, even wore my glasses since the character does int eh script.” He said jokingly and you giggled.

“Well, they suit you.” You complimented and he smiled bashfully.

“Thanks.” He responded, “But ummm, we are genuinely laughing…I think we’ll do good in there.” He said with a little more confidence.

“I think so too.” You hummed.

“Here’s to hoping. Well, I’m gonna head back in now, but I’ll see you in there, okay? Wish me luck!” He smiled warmly and you smiled and nodded as you watched him head back into the reading room.

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

It almost goes without saying that Harry was cast as the other lead opposite you. You guys did get along well and you also read well together, the screen test was great too. It was evident how personal these roles felt to each of you. So after a few days you were sitting before each other with your teams present to work out the terms of this PR relationship you’d have. It was all pretty basic; some of the parameters set were that this was business so no canoodling outside of the contractually obligated appearances, there were an agreed upon number of appearances you’d have to do during and post production. There were strict boundaries on what PDA was okay and what wasn’t, it was all very straight forward. So with both parties having most of their conditions met, you guys signed the contract.

…. ONE MONTH LATER ….

Now, you guys were a quarter of the way through filming and being the delusional hopeless romantic you were, you’d started developing real feelings for Harry. He was just so sweet and fun and thoughtful. For example, your birthday had fallen during production and he bought you flowers and a cake and had everyone sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you. Or when you had a scheduled appearance but were feeling ill from your period cramps, instead of making you sit through dinner at a restaurant, he drove you to the nearest pharmacy and walked around with you to buy you tampons and snacks. You loved it and everyone else did too. Or just little thoughtful things he’d do for the staff after a long day, he was just a complete sweetheart and it was getting harder and harder for you to just ignore it and not take his kindness all that personally.

Harry wasn’t really one to talk your ear off, he loved conversation, but mostly the listening bit. He liked to learn and hear other people’s thoughts and opinions. Like a sponge, he absorbed all the information and stowed it away for a later time. You could tell by the way he looked at you that he was listening. Like now…

“-it was just really stupid.” You sighed in slight irritation, “Like you just don’t follow someone to their car in a parking garage at night to ask for their picture!” You ranted and he nodded.

“You’re absolutely right. That’s scary, when someone follows you all the way to your car…”

“It was! And it was one of those things where like, if I started to run I knew they would start running after me so I tried to stay calm but in the end I just freaked out a little bit.” You explained, “Fuck, now they’re going to write shit about me being rude online.” You sighed as you guys drove out to the wine bar you were going to be spending some time at this evening.

“Look, you know you did nothing wrong and you’ve never lost it on someone before. If they do post that video and see an empty car park no one is going to think you were being rude. You can’t chase down a woman at night in a parking structure.” He said and you sighed.

“You’re right…” you agreed after you calmed down a bit. “H-how do you do it?”

“Chase women down?” He asked with a playful smile and you rolled your eyes and giggled at his little joke.

“Seriously though. Like deal with the obsessed people and the stalkers that just follow you around from a distance.”

“It is scary for me too. I mean, it sucks to say you get used to it, but you will.” He said and you nodded, “Like I don’t really go out alone in the evenings any more, try to do everything in the day time, with friends if possible. And like at night I’ll drive if I really need to go out, but like I’ve caught people trying to sneak in behind my car at the gate at my home in London. Or just like wait out there for me to come and go. I hate having security there all the time, but for a time I did have someone around patrolling a bit, it did help. Gave me some peace of mind, you know?”

“Yeah…well sorry if I…dampened the mood, I’m just still a little shaken up.” You explained.

“No, I get it.” He assured you with a smile, “Well the wine bar we’re going to is very low-key, so I don’t think anyone will bug us until we walk out to leave. Unless you’re in the mood for something else?” He asked you and you shook your head.

“The wine bar sounds really good right now.” You said to him and he smiled.

Your evening with Harry had been really fun. Not that you guys never had fun, but he was being extra sweet and attentive considering what had happened to you the night before. There were an assortment of board games available to play or you could choose to color and talk, but seeing as you weren’t too keen on any of the games you pulled out your trusty deck of cards from the depths of your purse. He found it extremely amusing that you just had that in your purse but went easy on the teasing.

You rotated playing a few games, you taught him how to play 21 and Speed and it was getting so competitive. Obviously, you were at an advantage considering you knew how to play the games already. He did alright at 21, but when you started to play speed your expertise shone. You were kicking his ass and eventually beat him enough times (four times) that he decided it was time to change games. He kicked your ass at Scrabble and Connect 4 for retribution, but by that point you’d had at least four glasses of wine and were pretty tipsy. He was too, he was all giggly and pink in the cheeks and the tip of his nose, almost as if he were freezing cold and not teeming with warmth. His voice had dropped a bit deeper and his eyes had a slight glassy sheen over them and they were a bit lidded. You were both far more touchy now, it started rather innocently though.

“You’re cheating.” You said to him as he laughed.

“How can you cheat at Scrabble!?” He asked through his laugh.

“You’re picking your tiles.”

“I am not!” He scoffed through a laugh.

“Let me pick one for you then.”

“Hell no.”

“I’m only getting consonants! I need to prove that something is up.”

“How is that possible?”

“It just is!” You said and he laughed.

“Only if I can pick your letter.”

“Okay, deal.” You agreed and you drew his next five tiles after he’d put down ‘reflex’ joint to your previous word, ‘car’.

“I got one consonant, a good one too.” He said as he arranged them on his rack.

“Of course you did…” you murmured as you looked over your options. You really only had consonants. “Okay…” you said as you grabbed the only three tiles that would work with what was on the board, “Eggs.” You said with a small smile as you tagged on the g-g-s to one of the e’s in ‘reflex’ and he burst into laughter.

“That’s all you have?! I don’t believe this.” He said.

“It is!” You laughed through your insistence.

“Let me see.” He said reaching for your rack of letters and you batted his hand away.

“Stop cheating!”

“I’m not! I’m trying to help you.” He chuckled as he grabbed your wrists in one hand to grab the rack and turn it towards him. When he saw your letters his smile dropped, “Mmmm, I see your predicament. And here I thought you just couldn’t spell…” He teased with a smirk and you arched your eyebrows up at his little joke.

“Ha-ha.” You mocked and he chuckled.

“Come here.” He said patting the spot beside him on the tabletop and you were tipsy enough that you didn’t question it. You dragged your stool over beside his and he sighed that you were too far and you squealed in surprise when he grabbed the edge and tugged you even closer to him as easily as if he had slid your empty glasses of wine out of the way. You knew he was strong, you’d seen it with your own eyes over the course of your professional relationship together. But with your growing feelings and the wine fogging up your brain you melted inside at this simple display of strength.

“Geez!” You gasped and he chuckled.

“Sorry.” He hummed with a smile before patting at your hip and looking back at the rack of letters he took from you. “Okay, so…you’re a bit fucked.” He said after scanning the rack some more.

“Well, you didn’t need to drag me over here to tell me that.” You giggled and he turned to you.

“Well, you’re here now, so win-win I’d say.” He flirted and you felt the blood rushing up to your face and making your cheeks and ears go hot.

You didn’t move from his side the rest of the time you were there. All games were forgotten, you were just fiddling with each other’s fingers under the table, your hand resting over his thigh, talking nonsense, and giggling as the alcohol got to the both of you. The way he was looking at you was making you feel like the only other person on the planet. You typically shied away from intense, undivided attention but he wasn’t ostentatious in the way he gave it. It was subtle and personal, it made you feel seen. After ordering one more glass you decided it was time to go, so Harry called your driver. You were getting hungry for some real food as you’d only been munching on the complementary bread they’d been bringing you guys.

“Bill’s here.” He informed you and you reached for your bag while Harry came around and helped you off of the high stool. You were wearing some heels because he was just so tall, but of course, your landing was a bit shaky and you both laughed as he grabbed around your waist. “You good?” He asked with a grin and you nodded up at him, “Sure?”

“M’sure. Just got a little wobbly there.” You giggled as you glanced up at him.

“Here.” He said extending his hand.

“It’s alright. I’m good.” You assured him.

“I’m sure you are, but we’re supposed to do the pictures for the paps, remember?” He said more quietly.

“Oh right, right…” you mumbled and it made you a bit sad as you handed your hand over. He took it and started guiding you though the bar to get out.

You could see people in the bar also taking videos of you guys walking out, calling all this attention to yourself like you were supposed to. But hey, at least you were holding his hand. When you guys got outside the flashes started going off and the paps were calling out to you both but you kept your eyes down at Harry’s shoes, you were a little too tipsy for this. Harry’s grip on you tightened as he pulled you to the car waiting right along the curb and then opened the door to help you in before sliding in behind you.

“God, didn’t think there’d be so many.” He said and you nodded as you buckled up.

“Heading home?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, please. And can you make a little detour on the way so we could get some food?”

“Certainly.”

“Okay, we’re still choosing we’ll pick something on route to her place.”

“Sounds good, just let me know.” He smiled and Harry thanked him before asking you again what you wanted.

You eventually settled on some dumpling place on the way and placed your order online so that it would be ready to pick up when you arrived. Thankfully, that all went to plan and soon you were being dropped off at your house. The lack of stimulation really perpetuated the tipsiness you were both feeling. You were laughing as you navigated your way to your kitchen in mostly the dark, guiding Harry through so that he wouldn’t get hurt.

“Here we are. Can’t wait to eat.” You said and he nodded in agreement. You guys split the food and then curled up on your couch to watch something on the TV while you ate and chatted. Harry started to sober up a lot faster than you which was great as he had to go home after this. You were trying to get on his level so you chugged your big glass of water and then dropped back onto the couch.

“You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, a bit better.” You said and he smiled.

“Good. Did you have fun?” He asked and you nodded.

“A lot of fun actually. Though to be fair, I think you pick fun things to do.” You said and he smiled.

“Oh good! I mean I think I’m quite boring.” He confessed.

“No…I don’t think you’re boring at all. I’m definitely more of a homebody so getting to do all these different things has actually been really great.” You assured him.

“Funny, I pegged you as more of an extrovert than me.” He said and you shook your head.

“Oh no, I’m definitely more introverted than anything.” You chuckled.

“You know, I have a lot of fun with you too. I’m glad it’s you I get to do this with.” He said as he glanced towards you and you smiled down at your lap.

“Yeah, me too.” You responded weakly, but he didn’t catch it, thankfully.

Truth be told, you were still tipsy and were having a hard time getting down to his level of sobriety. And with that came this avalanche of sincerity that could not be avoided or misdirected. In fact, the longer he stayed with you the more you felt the thread of your composure starting to fray. You were fighting against yourself and your need to get closer to him, you wanted to feel his warmth radiating onto you, you wanted the scent of his cologne to waft over you as you buried yourself into his side. You wanted to feel the rumble of his chest when he spoke lowly to you.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just…thinking.” You said through a tight lipped smile.

“About?”

“Just the film and how much fun I’m having. S’gonna be sad when it’s over.”

“Yeah, it will be. But you don’t have to think about it being over just yet.” He reminded. “We’ve still got a couple more months of filming and things…and this.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You decided and suddenly stood up. “I need to go to the bathroom. Ummm, let me take all of this…” you said of your food containers.

“It’s alright, I’ve got this, you go on.” He assured you and with one more confirmation via a firm nod you headed off to the bathroom.

You just needed to splash some cold water on your face or something. Do anything to freshen up a little and get out of your head. So you did just that as soon as you’d relieved yourself. You grabbed one of the hand towels and soaked it with cold water and dabbed it all over your face. After a few moments you were heading back out and to the kitchen where Harry was just filling up the bag the dumplings had come in with you trash.

“Do you want the vinegar and and chili oil?” He asked, hearing your steps behind him.

“Ummm, just the chili oil. I repurpose it.” You said and he smiled and dropped in the two little sauce cups of black vinegar before tying it up. “You can just leave it, I have to take it out back.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright. Well, it’s nearing 1am, I should get going.” He said as he turned around and you nodded.

“Yeah. Ummm, are you good t-to drive?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, the food really sealed the deal.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“Positive? You can stand on one leg?” You asked jokingly and he did so. “Count down from 100 in intervals of 7?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and he scrunched his face down pensively.

“I can try…I didn’t finish high school so it might be a bit harder for me thank most.” He said with a small grin.

“Mmm…don’t think that’ll hold up in court.” You joked and he laughed and shook his head.

“You’re quite funny, you know?” He said and you smiled and shrugged.

“Triple threat.”

“I think that third is supposed to be the dancing bit actually.”

“Who cares about dancing? Would you rather a partner who can dance or who makes you laugh?”

“Mmm…Facts.” He smiled and you shrugged.

“No brainer.” You said and he nodded, “Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll walk you out.” You said and you guys made your way to your door.

“Genuinely, I’ve had an especially fun time with you tonight.” Harry said as you got into the foyer.

“Me too. I’ve never done something like that before.”

“Well, we could always do it again, maybe you’ll have better luck with Scrabble.” He smiled and you chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe.” You said, “Hey so ummm, in a few months the LA Opera is opening up Turandot.” You said and he looked at you quizzically, “I’m sure you know the most famous song, or at least heard it?”

“How does it go?”

“It’s the…Nessun dorma, nessun dorma. Tu pure o principessa, nella tua fredda stanza… you’ve heard it.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.”

“Yeah, it’s this incredible Italian opera and I’ve always wanted to see it but none of my friends are really into that. Not that you are, but you said you like classical music, this is kind of a branch of of that…in a way and-”

“I’d love to go.” He said and you smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. We could tally off another one of our appearances.” He said and you bit your lip as the pang of hurt radiated from your chest and out to the rest of your body. But you smiled and nodded.

“Y-yeah, exactly. Just get another one of those out of the way.” You responded, trying your best to ward off the growing knot that was lodged up in your throat. You really were just inviting him as a friend, not as part of your PR arrangement, so the sting of rejection remained.

“Cool, I’ll get the details from my team then.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, holding back the need to cry now. It hurt so bad, you hadn’t been in this position in a long while, the unrequited affections position. You really just struggled with dating so you hadn’t really spent a lot of time with someone you were into in a long time so everything was just intensified in a way, including the disappointment. You quickly opened up the door to get him out of there as soon as possible so that you could go cry it out for a bit. “Remember we don’t shoot tomorrow morning.” You reminded and he smiled.

“Positive?” He asked as he turned to you and you nodded.

“It’s an afternoon shoot tomorrow.”

“Okay, thank you. When’s call time?”

“For you it’s 3pm.” You said and he nodded.

“Okay…I really should start adding these to my calendar.”

“You should.” You concurred as he turned back to you with a smile.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He said and you nodded and he stepped closer and went in for a hug. You did hug sometimes, but you didn’t want to just now, but you gave in anyway, relaxing into his embrace as he squeezed around you just a bit. “Sleep well, alright?” He said softly as he started to pull back and you nodded but then he turned his head a bit and your noses bumped together.

“Sorry-”

“S’my fault.” He chuckled and then glanced down at your lips. “I ummm…” he trailed off and just grabbed your jaw gently and tilted it up and kissed you quickly on the lips. You didn’t even have time to react before he pulled away. “Shit.” He cursed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Obviously, that was a mistake, I shouldn’t have done that.” He rambled as he let you go and took a step back.

“It’s alright, Harry.” You said and he shook his head.

“I didn’t even ask you and ummm…I don’t know, something just came over me and I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean t-to kiss you. Fuck…” he cursed at himself.

“Harry, I’m not upset. It’s fine.” You assured, trying to hint at the fact that you were very okay with this.

“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s not.” He said firmly and you couldn’t help it as your eyes started to well up, “It was a mistake. I’m not like into- like it just happened, okay?” He said instead and you just nodded. He was backed up enough now that he couldn’t see your glassy eyes all that well anymore.

“I get it, Harry. Drive safe.” You rushed out and then hurried inside and closed your door before locking it and resting your forehead against it as a soft sob broke past your throat.

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

After the initial shock wore off Harry rushed up to your door again, about to knock and apologize again but just as his first raised up he heard the latch of the deadbolt and sighed in defeat. He rested his forehead against the thick door for just a moment before he walked to his car. He got in and then glanced up to see if he could spot you through a window or make out where in the house you were by the flick of a light, but it just stayed dark for a minute or so and he shook his head.

“Fuck…fuck me.” He grumbled before taking off.

Harry actually had no idea where that impulse to kiss you had come from. He did like you, he wouldn’t have agreed to anything more than the film if he didn’t. And he had also had so much fun working with you so far, it was just so easy and such a good vibe that he often forgot that it was “work”. Like tonight, after having a few glasses of wine he was feeling rather touchy and vulnerable, like he usually did when he drank, and it was so nice to feel that relaxed around you. He felt comfortable and it really was just one of those impulsive thoughts that he had. He had thought about kissing you before, you would for the film. But lately it was on his mind a lot more because those scenes would start filming soon. Maybe even in the upcoming week.

Harry wanted to call Tommy or Jeffrey and tell them what he did but he kew he’d get an earful and he didn’t want that right now. He just needed a little sympathy and possibly another drink. So he called one his more discrete friends as she also lived in Beverly Hills, just about 10 minutes away from you. And they sat out by the fire pit as they sipped on a cocktail. He was petting at her dog’s back while he shared what he’d done and how anxious he was feeling about having to face you at work now. He told her about the PR stunt and how he felt like he’d majorly crossed a line. And when she asked him why he was beating himself over this so much he wasn’t sure what to say. And she helped talk him down and reminded him that if you had said it was OK and you weren’t angry that this was entirely about him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re making it bigger than it is. I mean…do you like her?”

“Of course I like her. We get along really well and-”

“You know what I mean, H.” She said with a knowing smile and he licked over his lips.

“Yeah, I guess I do a bit. Like starting too but I can’t you know? Last time I got involved with a co-worker it didn’t turn out so great for her. People were cruel.” He said.

“Well this isn’t last time. But I mean, if that’s now a boundary that you really don’t want to test ever again then do what’s going to make you feel better. But I mean, attraction and feelings are sort of out of our hands, you know?” She said with a smile, “And burying those too deep also isn’t good for you.”

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“Did she kiss back?”

“No.” He said quietly and she hummed, “I mean, it was fast…maybe she would have…I’m glad I didn’t stick around to find out though.” He admitted.

“So…I think you know how you want to proceed then.” She said and he sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess…I guess I do.”

He ended up staying the night there as neither of them had anything in the morning. But he headed home after one final pep talk from her, he needed to mentally prepare for seeing you again. He was an absolute wreck over it, his stomach was turning anxiously when he arrived before his call time just to talk to you, you were likely already there in hair and makeup. There was a dinner party scene you guys were filming, it was the scene where his character began to see yours in a different light. Very appropriate.

“Hey Harry.” One of staffers greeted him as he breezed by.

“Hello!” He waved and then pushed up his glasses further not he bridge of his nose. He hurried over to the hair/makeup trailer. He knocked and heard a cheerful “come in!” From the artist Veronica. Harry stepped inside and as soon as your eyes met through the mirror you looked away quickly and then his eyes met Veronica’s.

“Hey H! I wasn’t expecting you yet!” She said with a smile.

“Just wanted to drop by a bit earlier.” He said and she nodded.

“Well feel free to sit, I’m almost done with Y/n. I’m ahead of schedule.”

“Thanks, ummm, I actually needed a word w-with Y/n.” He said to her, “If I can?” He asked and then glanced to you, to see if that was alright with you. You held his gaze for a second before you nodded.

“It’ll just be a moment, V.” You said to her.

“Maybe like 5-10 minutes.” He said to you and your inhale literally stopped. Your stomach fluttered violently, your heart pounded hard, and your mouth slightly dried.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll go get a drink. Do you guys want anything from the cafe?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”, “No thank you.” You and Harry responded and she smiled and gave him a pat on the arm as she walked past him and out of the trailer. Harry approached and sat in the seat adjacent to yours. You turned to him and he looked sad, defeated.

“Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry.” He apologized again and your eyes flickered down to your lap and you shook your head with a small smile.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Harry.” You assured him, “I’m not mad. Quite frankly I’m relieved because…because I…I uh-”

“Please, don’t.” He interrupted and your eyes fluttered up to his as the lump in your throat grew, “I know you what you’re about to say. Please don’t say it.” He implored and you bit down on your lip to hold back from frowning. “It doesn’t work. It won’t.” He said with certainty, “I’ve been there…I’ve fallen in love with a really wonderful person who was working along side me and it messed her up.” He said with a frown. “I can’t do that to anyone ever again.” He explained.

“I get it.” You whispered.

“Believe me, it’s hard. I think we work well together, don’t we. We mesh!”

“Really nicely.” You agreed.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, “So let’s-lets just do what we need to do and call it a day.”

“Okay.” You nodded your head robotically. You just shut down all your feelings because you couldn’t show him how deep in it you were by now. If you could save yourself from anything, at least the embarrassment.

“Does this change anything for you in terms of like the dates-er appearances w-we have to do?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No. Don’t want to make a fuss. Fred is kind of a nag, don’t want him harping and teasing me about it until something more embarrassing or astonishing makes him forget it.” You said.

“Yeah, they can give you a hard time…” he said and you nodded.

“Well uh- actually there is one thing.” You said and he nodded, “T-the opera thing ummm, let’s not do that.” You said and he frowned a bit, “It’s just that when I asked I ummm…I wasn’t asking you to go as an idea for the appearances. This kind of means a lot to me and I was actually asking you to come with me as a friend.” You clarified, “I’d want to go with well…someone who-”

“I get it.” He said with a small smile.

“Thank you.” You nodded.

“Well that’s it I guess.”

“Yeah.” You whispered and he stood and left quite awkwardly.

Once again, he was kicking himself over what he’d just done but it was for the best. He needed to put an end to this before he let himself like you a little too much and it ruined everything. Or worse, he gave in and you guys tried for a bit before things inevitably went to shit because of how awful the public were to you until they wore you down…better safe than sorry. He needed to stop this before it was too late.

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

You were definitely hurt but you understood where Harry was coming from. And maybe he was right, it was just a bad idea to get involved more than professionally. Admittedly, if you had been in the place of his last girlfriend there was no way you could’ve been as poised as she was through all of it. Through all of the rumors, all of the hate, all of the lies, all of the tasteless jokes… you were confident in yourself but not to that extent, surely you’d have a public breakdown at some point with all of that pressure.

But as the days went by you realized that you’d soon be filming the more intimate parts of this film. Normally, films didn’t film chronologically but this one did. The director really wanted to capture the natural growing closeness between you and Harry as filming progressed. Truth be told, you were acting your asses off and everyone on the set was buying it even though the bond between you two had broken down. Even your dates were different; you guys weren’t talking as much as before or learning more and more details about each other like before. Now you mostly talked about work to him or your plans after filming but nothing too personal.

You were still nervous for the intimate scenes though, that’s what you would be doing today, the first intimate scene. You would surely do something to give away just how real your yearning was for him. Your actions couldn’t lie. Especially after you hadn’t been able to kiss back when he’d kissed you a few weeks before.

“Nervous?” Veronica asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, a bit.” You confessed.

“Don’t be. Just work with the natural tension and attraction the two of you already have going on and it’ll be perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Girl, you’re really gonna make me say it?” She said with a tsk.

“There’s nothing else going on.” You said and she gave you a disbelieving look.

“What was that a couple weeks ago with the “ten minute talk” he needed to have with you?” She asked you.

“It genuinely was a talk. We had a misunderstanding and I was a little upset at him.” You explained and her gaze softened from teasing and playful to sorry for assuming.

“Oh…I could’ve sworn that you guys-”

“No. No. I mean…I…I like him. Like that.” You said a bit shamefully and she pouted and sat down in the seat beside yours and nodded as she listened, “It’s kind of impossible not to when we spend so much time together and have gotten to know each other the way we have. Like god, it’s so amateur of me…” you shook your head and she sighed.

“Hey, no. Look at me, hon. Attraction is natural, you can’t help how you feel or how your brain responds to something! And quite frankly I think he…likes you too.” She said and you smiled sadly and shook your head.

“He doesn’t, that’s what he said that day. That he didn’t want to blur the lines and like…it’s been so weird since. So dry and robotic…ugh, I hate it so much. I don’t know how I can do this for another eight weeks.” You sighed.

“Well after you have to kiss all day just…act cool. It’s whatever, yeah? I’ve kissed tons of people and not all of it has to mean something, you know?”

“Yeah… I hope I can.”

“You can. You can do it. And i-if you need to talk about it or just be sad about it after you can talk to me. I won’t say a thing. Promise.” She assured you.

“Thank you.” You said to Veronica and she smiled and nodded.

“Of course, hon.” she assured and this made you feel better. You could certainly get through the next weeks of filming if you had someone to talk to about this.

…. 8 WEEKS LATER ….

The lighting was dim as you approached the front door, the heavy and constant knocks on the door made you hasten your step. You finally opened the door to see Harry drenched from head to toe, clothes clinging to his skin as his eyes met yours.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, your features creased in confusion as he stepped froward and you stepped back into the entrance.

“I needed to see you.” He said as he swung the front door back and it closed with a heavy thud.

“You just saw me-”

“I didn’t like seeing you with him.” He said coming closer and you sighed.

“Listen-”

“He’s not nearly good enough for you.” He said to you firmly and you scoffed.

“As much as I valued your opinion before, I don’t really care for it right now and I didn’t ask.” You responded.

“You didn’t need to. I know you.” He said as he reached for you and you increased the distance between the two of you.

“No you don’t. Not anymore.” You shook your head as your eyes started to well up.

“Don’t say that.” He frowned, the hurt evident on his face, “You’re my best friend. I know you.” He insisted again and you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“We haven’t spoken since…” you trailed off and swallowed thickly.

“Since I let you walk away.” He finished your thought for you and you nodded. “I was scared.” He admitted.

“You weren’t scared with April or Sarah.” You said and he sighed.

“They weren’t you. There was more to lose with you.” He explained and you shook your head.

“That’s a miserable excuse. You always do this!” You groaned with frustration, “You see that I’ve moved on, that I’m happy and then you come to me and make me believe you-”

“I know you’re not happy.” He interrupted.

“I’m happier than when I’m playing this stupid game with you!” You raised your voice, your breathing shallow as you expressed your frustration and he frowned. “You say you love me and fuck me and then say we can’t be together!”

“Can’t you see how that proves how much I love you?” He asked sincerely, his eyes meeting yours and you glanced away and shook your head, “I’ve loved you this whole time but I can’t risk losing my best friend.” He said and you sniffled as your tears started to fall.

“You don’t love me.” You rejected his claim, “You love who I’ve been for you. Always available, desperate for you to realize that I’ve been here the whole time, but I’m not that person anymore. I don’t need you any more.” You said and he frowned, “You don’t know what’s it been like…” you said to him with a sad smile, “Being here. Waiting. Watching you choose someone else over and over again and when it fails you come running back to me. But I’ve realized that if I wasn’t good enough to be your first or second choice, surely I’m not enough for you now. And I never will be.” You said to him, your voice cracked a bit.

“You are enough. You’re more than! I just wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t want to hurt you and lose you.” He explained reaching for your hands and you pulled them out of his grip.

“Well, you hurt me any way. And you lost me anyway. And now that you know you’ve lost me you hate to see it. Well good.” You seethed and he frowned.

“Baby-”

“Don’t. Don’t start with that.” You warned with a frown, “I don’t believe you anymore. I gave my heart over to you every time, like an idiot, thinking that I’d be safe with you and every single time you’ve disappointed me! Well, not anymore.” You said and he reached for you again. “Please leave.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me that you love me too.” He pressed and you scoffed.

“You need to move on!” You laughed incredulously.

“I can’t! Believe me, I’ve tried!” He raised his voice, his breathing hard, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you and that I’ve disappointed you but I’m not afraid anymore.” He said reaching for your hands once more and this time you let him take them, “I’m not afraid of the love we have for each other. I will do anything I can to prove to you that it’ll be different this time. That I won’t disappoint you ever again.” He said earnestly, “Please.” He begged and you swallowed thickly. “I need you like I need air! Being away from you has been torture. And seeing you with someone else has been worse than torture.” He said grabbing your jaw and angling you up gently. His thumb wiped your tears away carefully and you closed your eyes, “Nuh-uh, look at me.” He insisted and your eyes blinked open and met his again. “Say it. Say that you love me, baby. I need to hear you say it.” He practically begged as he leaned in closer.

“I love you.” You whispered and he quickly closed the gap between you.

His warm, plump lips met your own hungrily. The soft wet sounds of your kisses and shallow breaths were the only noises in the background, everything was perfectly still otherwise and it really felt like you two were the only people in the world in this moment. You were so close his sopping clothes were transferring the wetness to your own top and his strong hands were holding you low on your hips now, you could feel the cold of them through the thin sleep shorts you were in. “I love you, I do.” You mumbled against his lips and then pulled back and he chased after you but you turned your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed the corner of your mouth and up your jaw, “But I love me more.” You said as you pushed him back and he loosened his grip on you as he pulled back to look at you, his disappointment evident in his gaze, his eyes searching yours. “I’m more than a last resort.” You said and he frowned, “I always chose you and you never chose me, so I’m choosing myself over you this time.” You said and he looked at you with disappointment.

“Cara-”

“You’re going to be okay.” You assured him and he shook his head.

“What a silly thing to say.” He whispered with doubt, a sad smile on his lips.

“If I am after everything, you will be too.” You assured him with a half smile and he let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quite pitifully and you nodded.

“I know.” You said once more and he rolled his lips together and nodded before silently turning around and heading out the door. You walked over and turned the lock and then turned around and let out a long exhale and then your lips turned up in a small, but sincere smile as you glanced up to the ceiling and made direct eye contact with the camera peering down at you.

“CUT!” The director shouted and you exhaled and your smile widened, “And that’s a wrap!” She shouted and everyone broke out in a cheer. She rushed over and hugged you tight, praising you for how excellent this final scene was. Harry came over as well and got his own hug from her, thanking him for his delivery and congratulating him on a job well done. You also gave him a brief hug before greeting others from the cast.

All the raw emotions of the project being completed really helped you guys along this final scene. It had been one of those magical moments where the first take went perfectly. You guys ran through the entire dialogue and it worked exactly as everyone had envisioned it. Truly, you hardly even noticed the cameras around you guys. The film would be released on Prime in three short months, which was when your contractual obligation to each other would end. Your appearances together were going to be far more “private” now that filming was about to wrap. Sure, you’d be seen out at places together, but it was supposed to start to slow down. You had prepared what you would say when someone inevitably asked you what was going on between you two during the promo tour and press junkets. That you guys got really close to the characters and also each other during filming and just let these bleed together while filming and that obviously, it had started to cool down since you weren’t seeing each other every single day for 10 to 11 of the 24 hours the day had.

“We did it.” Harry said as he came up to you as you guys got ready to go and you nodded.

“Yeah. It’s crazy that it’s already done.” You chuckled, still a little bit in shock and he nodded.

“Right…well I did have fun filming with you.”

“Same.” You said with a small smile and he nodded.

“Are you going to the cast dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course, I’m in the cast…” You said through a chuckle.

“Duh…” he said nervously as he looked down at his feet in a bit of embarrassment.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed and turned to get into your car and just offered one final wave before you took off.

You glanced back to see him still standing there, watching you go. You were glad your windows were tinted so that he couldn’t see you staring back, but you just weren’t sure what to feel. As much as you were into him, you were dreading the rest of your time “together”. Clearly to him this was just like any other task he had for work, maybe he was used to this but you weren’t. You’d never done anything like this before and you kind of expected him to be a little more understanding and not so harsh and cold about it like he had been with you.

…. TWO MONTHS LATER ….

Harry wasn’t that clueless, he noticed the shift in your interactions with him after filming ended. Almost as if you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to see each other every single day for hours and hours at a time. He knew that you liked him and he wished he had handled that differently because clearly the way he went about it hurt your feelings to the extent that you’d gone completely cold on him.

When you’d go out and he’d grab your hand it was dead weight in his grip. When he’d drape his arm around your shoulder he could feel the tension in them. And when you’d exchange “loving glances” your smile didn’t light up your eyes like before. Maybe it was just what you needed to do to get through the last month of this stunt but it was just going bad now. He wanted to apologize but he had no idea what he even needed to apologize for because he wasn’t sorry about the conversation he’d had with you.

You guys needed to tighten things up at the personal level, clearly he got far too comfortable with you fast and it scared him. He didn’t want to get hurt again and he didn’t want to hurt you either. He’d done this to protect you both from getting far more involved than necessary and now he felt like even the potential friendship he could have with you was crumbling before him which was really unfortunate.

He was feeling bummed out as he drove past your tall, wooden gate and up the long driveway to your house. He saw another car there but didn’t really mind it as he parked somewhere out of its way. He was getting out of his car when the front door opened and out rushed some guy who definitely looked familiar, probably some other industry guy. His hair was wet and he looked a bit surprised to see Harry there, so he rushed to his car.

“Hey!” He called after him and hurried towards him.

“Look man, she said you guys aren’t dating and-”

“Wait, she slept with you?” Harry asked with a small frown.

“So you are dating?” He asked and Harry shook his head ‘no’, “Thank, fuck. Then, yes, we did.” He said and Harry nodded and swallowed thickly.

“Is she- can I go in?”

“Yeah, she’s just finishing up her shower.” He said and Harry nodded.

“Thanks, mate.” He mumbled before heading towards the door.

With every step he took the anger rose and rose further and further. You were being reckless, putting everything in jeopardy all to what? Get back at him for not liking you back? He was waiting in the kitchen, but when he heard you singing along to whatever was playing on your phone as you made your way down he hurried out to meet you. When he rounded the corner and saw you coming down the final step you gasped in surprise.

“Oh my god, Harry!” You scolded with a hand over your chest as you put your music on pause. He didn’t answer so you walked past him, “You’re here a lot early.” You said to him playfully as he followed you wordlessly. He was just so fuming mad after seeing a faint hickey right beneath your jaw, “Hello?” You questioned him until his frustrated gaze met yours.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He questioned you.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I saw him leaving. That guy.” He came right out and said it.

“Look, it was a spur of the moment thing, we were just having dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“You fucked him.” He said and you sighed. “How could you do that?” He asked you in disbelief.

“What do you mean? It’s not like we’re actually together.” You scoffed and he frowned but then let the anger overcome him once more.

“Exactly! We’re not together and if anyone sees some stupid dweeb leaving your house then all of this is going to be for nothing!” He rationalized.

“Oh my god, no one’s gonna see anything, Harry…”

“They might see that fucking hickey on your neck!” He argued, “How clueless can you be?!” He was berating you now, his voice raised and his expression creased in a scowl and you frowned.

“I didn’t think about that. I mean, I-I can cover it. If not, they’ll just think it was you.” You said more quietly.

“No one would ever believe that was me. I have never left visible marks on anyone I’ve been with. My fans will never buy it.” He said pointedly. “You can’t do shit with other people while we are contractually obligated to each other. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, Y/N!”

“Well, there is no clause about that! And I was careful!”

“Not careful enough! I can’t believe you would do something so stupid and all for what? To get back at me?” He scoffed with an accusatory tone and now it was your turn to scoff incredulously.

“Oh, don’t fucking flatter yourself, Harry!” You laughed mawkishly as you rolled your eyes up in disbelief.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t do this on purpose to piss me off.”

“Why would I want to piss you off if I have to spend a whole fucking day with you?” You asked him and well, he had no idea. “He likes me and he wanted to have dinner with me. I said I couldn’t do that out in public so I offered for him to come over instead.”

“He doesn’t like you, he just wanted to fuck you.” Harry said with a sarcastic smile.

“Well good for him then! He did!”

“You’re being childish.”

“I’m being childish? You’re the one waltzing in here over an hour early, might I add, yelling at me because I hooked up with someone in the privacy of my home when we’re not even a thing!”

“I already told you why I’m angry at you over this.”

“Well I already told you that I was careful! This is my first time doing something like this and I made a bad judgment call. I genuinely didn’t think it would be a problem.” You said and he shook his head.

“You knew it would be. You did it to get back at me for…never mind.” He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“For what? Finish the sentence, Harry.” You demanded.

“You know why.” He said lowly and you arched your eyebrows up.

“I don’t. Enlighten me, please.” You insisted.

“Because of what I said to you before about us. I hurt your feelings and-”

“Yeah, you were kind of a prick about it but I’m not offended. You were right about that and I think I’ve done enough to manage what I used to feel for you-”

“Used to feel? The wave of hostility you’ve unleashed upon me after I rejected you says otherwise. And I think you’re just acting out because you can’t get a handle on your feelings. You’re being impulsive and it’s going to throw a wrench in things!”

“I’m being impulsive? Who kissed who, Harry? I’m forgetting…” You said sarcastically and he glanced to the ground.

“That was a mistake.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that abundantly clear over and over again, thanks.” You said with irritation. “And I’m not being hostile. I’m doing what I need to do until we just get this stupid thing over with!” You said to him, completely exasperated, “I’ve never done this before, OK? I didn’t expect t-to like you like I do-er did.” You corrected yourself with a shake of your head, “I’m sure it was weird for you the first time you did it.” You said and his jaw clenched up because you were right.

His first PR stunt fucked him up for a while…he was still a teenager, frontal lobe smooth as butter. But he let himself fall and he thought she was too and well, to this day he was still a hot topic amongst her projects. It did bother him a little bit at first, he reckoned it’d bother anyone but he didn’t give it the satisfaction of a negative response ever. He changed the narrative, called it a compliment even though he had no idea where the fuck he was going with that at the moment. He never said a bad thing even through his music even though he’d been painted as the “bad guy” who was a player and couldn’t commit over and over again. He’d hoped it would work out but to anyone outside of it, it was kind of obvious that it wouldn’t go anywhere. After all, what could a 23 year old want with a 18 year old in any serious manner? The point being, that these PR stunts and crossing professional lines always left one or both people hurting if they weren’t overly cautious, which is why he had said what he had said to you.

But now he was jealous, gut wrenchingly jealous when he shouldn’t be. You had made a mistake but you had been cautious to not endanger what you guys had signed on for. He was being far too harsh with you and sensitive about this and he needed to reel it back in. You were waiting for him to say something, anything…

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was a stupid mistake.” He said again and you swallowed thickly.

“Yeah, I get it.” You responded lowly.

“Do you?” He asked. He was patronizing you and you glanced up to the ceiling and shook your head.

“Harry, honestly, I don’t need this. Please leave.” You said to him and he frowned.

“But we-”

“I don’t want to be with you for the whole fucking day and pretend that I like you.” You said and he felt his heart shrivel up.

“We have an obligation to do an appearance-”

“Well I’ll see you around dinner time then because I don’t want to be around you right now.” You said to him and he bit on the inside of his cheek to distract from the hurt in his heart.

“Yeah, alright.” He said lowly and turned around to leave.

“Congrats by the way.” You said to him and he sighed and looked back at you quizzically, “You got what you wanted this whole time, I don’t think I like you anymore.” You said to him callously and he suddenly wanted to throw up so he just hurried out of there and sat in his car in utter silence for a few minutes before taking off.

You guys did meet over dinner and he apologized for how he’d handled the whole situation earlier that day. You'd cooled off enough as well and apologized for not considering what he had mentioned and assured him that you wouldn’t do it again while you were contractually obligated to each other. He was hoping to hear you say that you didn’t mean what you’d said about not liking him anymore, but he never got the satisfaction. He was certain you’d spoken purely out of anger with him, especially after he’d been such a dick about it, but maybe you just needed to tell yourself that to really not let your feelings grow anymore than they had or even to just not have some illusion that he was jealous. Which he was, but he’d never admit that to you or anyone else, he hardly admitted it to himself. But by the end of the night you were both very cordial with each other and able to hug before heading your own ways.

…. FOUR MONTHS LATER ….

The film had been a success to say the least. It was getting decent reviews and your press for it had been good. After you and Harry had put aside your problems after your fight things got monumentally better. There were tons of questions about whether you guys were dating or not and you both explained your attraction and dedication to your roles expertly, leaving a hint of mystery behind every time this came up, in very Harry-esque nature. But each night before you went to bed in whatever city you were for the night you thought of Harry, how could you not?

Of course you still liked him, even now, after months of not seeing each other your heart went all soft and gooey at the thought of him. Yeah, you had said that you didn’t like him anymore hoping to get a reaction out of him when you fought. You knew that he was jealous that day and you wanted him to just admit it, you wanted to get a rise out of him and hope he spoke up but in his true obstinate nature, he never did. You wondered what would’ve happened if he had admitted it. Where would you be now? Probably on a vacation somewhere really getting to know the parts of each other that you’d left guarded, which admittedly weren’t many.

“Earth to Y/N…” your friend said, snapping you out of your thoughts and you chuckled in slight embarrassment.

“Sorry, what?” You asked.

“I asked if you and Harry still talk.” She repeated her question.

“Oh right…ummm, n-not really. It’s not like we’re close friends, we just worked together. We just had to be super chummy during the press tours and stuff. Like it was a really superficial friendship I’d say.” You fibbed and she sighed.

“So no free shows for us…” She mumbled and you smiled a bit and shrugged apologetically, “You had one job.” She joked and you giggled before getting back to eat and everyone else started talking again.

In reality, you and Harry had gotten close after spending so much time together. You’d shared a lot of things with him and vise versa. He had been a little more hesitant to take it there but after a good month or so of constantly being around each other and “seeing each other” he started to open up about more real and deep things. Things like how much he worried about his mom, how she deserved to be happy and have a full life full of love. How he was worried that he’d never be able to really stop making music and touring at the level he did now and it would affect his ability to marry and have his own family. How he wished there was a way to know that you were doing the right thing or going down the best path and you guys talked about that a lot. About what “the right thing” was. About what it meant to be happy and fulfilled. What was most important to him now and could he afford to keep pushing the rest of his life back to relish where he was now.

You were an over thinker, much like him, and you guys talked about how nice it was when you didn’t worry so much and just lived day to day, focusing on that day’s challenges and blessings. It was nice, you felt comfortable around him and safe, looked after. He was good at making people feel seen and special and with all of that it was hard not to start to fall for him. You missed him a lot. You wanted to text him or call him sometimes just to see how he was doing, what he was up to, if by any chance he missed you too…When you had that thought you smiled to yourself a bit and talked yourself out of it. Of course he didn’t miss you, he was probably glad you were gone, something less for him to deal with and worry about.

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

Harry’s POV

Harry had been lying in bed for a good hour already, drifting in and out of sleep. He canceled his work out and his morning swim, he didn’t have the energy to go to that right now. And that’s how he knew that he was in a bad way, when even those simple pleasures weren’t even a little appealing to him. In all honesty, he’d been feeling like this for a few weeks now and it all started when he was at dinner with some friends and one of your songs came over the speakers at the restaurant. At first it felt good to hear your voice, it made him feel happy and warm inside, but when he was at home later that night and all alone in his bed he started to miss you. And he felt so awful.

He felt awful about how he’d handled his attraction towards you. He hated how afraid he was of doing what his heart asked him to. He missed going on “dates” with you. He missed the conversations you guys had, he missed seeing the sincere care in your eyes when he shared things or opened up about topics he felt nervous about. He was never judged by you, in fact he felt accepted with you. He looked forward to the time you’d spend together off the set for a reason, it was because he liked you. A lot. And now he felt foolish for being too scared to admit it when he had the chance. He was sad when he came to the realization that you’d probably moved on and closed off your heart to him after how he behaved.

Regardless, he wanted to see you or at the very least to hear your voice. He at least needed to reach out and let you know that he was thinking of you. He did have a trip to LA in a few weeks and he decided that he’d reach out and see if you wanted to hang out for a bit, he only had two days of work things to take care of but he could add a few more days to his travel plans if it meant making things right with you.

…. A FEW WEEKS LATER ….

You were genuinely shocked when Harry’s name lit up your phone screen one breezy afternoon. It was past midnight his time so you had a mind to just ignore it, he was probably drunk or something…but then you remembered how sweet and giggly he was when he’d had a little much to drink, so you swiped at your screen and brought your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” He sounded relieved. Relieved that you had answered?

“Ummm…are you drunk?” You asked immediately and he huffed out a little chuckle.

“No…why would I be drunk at this hour?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows a little bit in confusion.

“Well you’re calling me past midnight your time so I just assumed. Unless something is wrong? Are you okay?” You asked next.

“Yeah, I’m fine. And I’m actually on your time. And while I enjoy day drinking as much as the next person I can assure you I am not drunk. I just ummm…I wanted to see if you had any free time in the next couple days or so? Maybe we could see each other?” He suggested hopefully and you felt your stomach sink.

The less mature part of you wanted to be a smart ass with him, tell him you didn’t need to hang out as your contract was long over. But you did miss him and as much as his invitation raised up some of your past irritations with him it wasn’t worth being a bitch to him over, especially after all of that time. Maybe this was him extending an olive branch? Maybe you guys could be proper friends now that your working relationship was over.

“Ummm, yeah. I actually don’t have any plans at all the next few days.” You explained.

“And work?”

“I’m not doing anything right now just relishing in the big bucks from our hit rom-com.” You said with a dry sarcasm and he chuckled.

“God, already letting all that fame get to your head, are you?” He teased and you giggled.

“Yeah, I’m changed.” You responded and he laughed. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You asked.

“Dinner? I’m renting this really beautiful place up in the hills and it has the most impeccable views, you’d love it. There’s a hot tub and a pool and a piano, we could just hang out here for a while? Or if you prefer to do something in town somewhere we could do that too.”

“Well I do want to see this house you’re staying at but ummm, I don’t want to impose or anything and-”

“I’m inviting you over, you’re not imposing in any way, love.” He assured.

“Alright then. Well when do you prefer I come over?”

“Do you want to do tomorrow? Say around 3 or 4?” He asked and you bit on your lip, “We could talk, swim, share music because I’m certain you’ve been writing.” He said knowingly and you smiled.

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll show up sometime between 3 and 4, gotta keep you on your toes, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So bring your swim suit, or don’t I mean, either way you can expect to get in the water…” he said suggestively and you chuckled.

“Should I bring anything else?”

“No just yourself.” He said and you nodded, “We can plan dinner once you’re here.”

“Alright, sounds good. See ya’.”

“See you soon.” He replied and then you quickly hung up.

You set your phone down on your lap and just let your face contort in confusion. What was that all about? You guys weren’t even friends… sure, things were this easy with him all the time but you couldn’t help but question his motives. Maybe he still felt guilty for how things transpired between the two of you and he just needed to do this to confirm that you weren’t upset at him. You grabbed your phone and called him back, he picked up right away.

“Hello?”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

“Wait, what?” He questioned you and you sighed.

“What do you want from me by asking me over to hang out or whatever?” You asked more clearly and Harry frowned upon hearing you asking this.

“Ummm, I didn’t…mean anything by it, it’s just hanging out.” He said and you sighed.

“Right, but we’re not friends.” You said and his heart lurched in his chest, “Now that we aren’t working together we can be or what?” You asked for clarity.

“I mean, yes, i-if you want that?” He said with a questioning tone.

“Okay…” you said and trailed off.

“Is there something wrong with that?” He asked and you weren’t sure how to answer that.

“I just ummm…I don’t know if I can trust that you won’t get all…weird.” You said to him.

“That’s valid.”

“I mean we were friends before. Or at least I considered us t-to have a friendship to some extent and then you just…took that away.” You explained and he nodded with a frown as he heard you out.

“I think we were friends too.” He agreed, “I just have a hard time letting people in.”

“And now you don’t?” You asked.

“No, I certainly do but I…” he sighed and licked over his lips as he plopped down on the couch as he stared at the ceiling as he decided to just admit it, “I miss you.” He confessed and you bit your lip upon hearing his words. You hoped it would stop the butterflies that were starting to flutter about in your tummy but it wasn’t doing much. “Honestly Y/N, I don’t think I handled the relationship between us the right way and-”

“Can I come over right now?” You interrupted him.

“Ummm, y-yes. Sure.” He said nervously.

“I just think we ought to have this conversation in person.” You explained and he smiled a bit. God, you had to make it harder for him, didn’t you?

“You’re right.” He conceded. “I’ll send you the address right now.”

“Should I still bring a swim suit?” You asked, he could heard the smirk on your face and he chuckled. Your smiled widened at your successful attempt to lighten the mood.

“We can talk things out in the hot tub.” He joked.

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Yeah, drive safe.” He said and you thanked him and hung up again.

You headed up to your room and grabbed a bathing suit, a simple, paisley print, two-piece and dropped it into your tote and then took off. You were nervous, not so much about what he would say but at the prospect of you leaving with any sense of false hope. Yeah, he missed you, but that didn’t really mean anything but that. You couldn’t or shouldn’t read into that in any way. When you were all in your head like this time just escaped you and soon enough you were pulling up to the gate and putting in the code he had texted you before you started heading up the driveway. You only waited a few moments at the door after ringing the doorbell before he opened it up.

“Hi.” He said softly with a smile on his face and you smiled back.

“Hey.” You responded, you just looked at each other for a few moments before he chuckled and moved out of the way.

“Oh, come in. Please.” He said and allowed you to step inside. You looked around as he locked up. The home was very modern, an open concept type of thing and it had one of those sunken living rooms that were making a come back.

“This is cool.” You complimented.

“Yeah, I like it a lot.” He said as he came up beside you and looked out at the space. “Ummm, can I get you something to drink? Or a snack if you’re hungry? I have…watermelon.” He said and you smiled.

“No thanks, I’m alright.” You assured him and he nodded and just looked over you for a few more moments. It made you feel all tingly so you cleared your throat and he looked down at the ground.

“Ummm so let’s just…we can sit over here and talk.” He said signaling towards the living room and you nodded and followed him down the small set of steps leading down to the couches. “Feel free to get comfy wherever.”

“Thanks.” You said as you headed towards one of the corners of the large sectional and slipped off your shoes before you nestled in, legs criss-crossed over each other as you pulled a pillow into your lap. Harry settled in near you, one of his legs tucked under him and the other hanging off of the couch. He looked a bit pensive, not entirely sure how or where to start and you were getting a little impatient.

“So you…missed me.” You said simply and he glanced into you eyes and nodded.

“Yeah, I have been for…a while.” He confirmed and you sighed.

“I have too…a little bit.” You admitted as you looked down into your lap and he smiled.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we did spend a lot of time together so…”

“Yeah, true.” You sighed.

“So ummm, what I was saying before…” he started and you nodded, “I didn’t go about things the right way with you. I could’ve been…”

“Less of a dick?” You interjected and he smiled down at his lap, when he looked up at you, you were already smiling.

“I was going to say nicer about it but same thing, I guess.” He chuckled and you did as well. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and while my reasons for it were really valid, I think, it doesn’t mean that I handled it well and I…regret hurting your feelings. I’m sorry.” He said and you hummed.

“Thank you. I just…was -er still am a bit confused about that because, I mean, I told you that I’d never done something like this before and I don’t know…I guess I was just expecting you to be a little bit more understanding or even just compassionate with me about the whole thing, you know?” You explained and he nodded.

“I wish I had been. I really do.” He said with a small frown. “I can explain actually.” He said and you nodded, “And this is not an excuse at all, it’s just that, an explanation.” He added and you nodded again, “When I kissed you I…I realized how much I was starting to like you and it scared me.” He explained, “And it took me back to what I’d been through before and I didn’t want that again, not for me, but especially not for you.” He explained, “So I decided that I wasn’t going to allow my feelings for you to grow any more or go any further than that.” He said and your gaze on him softened, “And well, i-it worked well enough for a bit. It was easier when we were working to remind myself that it was for the best. And then we fought and you told me you didn’t like me anymore and I felt like shit but I was also glad because you deserved better than that.” He said with a frown. “But when we went our own ways it got worse…not worse, you know what I mean.” He said nervously, “I just thought about you all the time- er I have been thinking about you this whole time. Just wondering i-if you think about me too sometimes…I mean, I know that you don’t feel that way about me any more but-”

“I do.” You cut in and he looked surprised.

“After all of that?” He asked softly and you nodded.

“You more than made up for it on the press tour.” You assured him, “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or upset you so I buried it all but I still like you. I mean, how could I not?” You chuckled and he smiled at you. “And I’m sorry for the way I said I didn’t, I wanted to make you upset.” You explained.

“Well it worked.” He chuckled and you smiled sadly. “I kind of deserved it though.” He said, “You didn’t ummm…see that guy again did you?” He asked and you smiled.

“I didn’t.” You confirmed and he smiled down at his lap.

“Good.” He mumbled lowly and you just smiled to yourself for a moment, “I really like you, Y/N.” He finally said as his gaze met your own. “And i-if you still like me too then maybe we can try and go an actual date.” He said with hope and you nodded.

“I’d like that.” You agreed and he smiled wider.

“Okay, that’s…that’s good to hear.” He chuckled nervously, “So tomorrow d-do you want to go out and do something with me? I’ve got something in mind.”

“Why not tonight?” You asked with a small pout and he chuckled.

“Because I’d like to make it at least a little bit nice.” He added and you smiled.

“Oh okay, then. That’s fine with me!” You giggled and he chuckled. “I brought my bathing suit so maybe we can go for a swim and have dinner instead, like we planned for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He agreed easily and you both got changed and then got into the pool where you caught up on how the last few months had been treating you both so far.

Then, you had dinner and watched a film and he reached for your hand while you guys watched. You’d held hands before but now you at least knew it was out of a desire to and not obligation it made the butterflies in your stomach swarm at ungodly rates. As the night wrapped up he walked you out to your car, like the sweet man you knew him to be but it was hard to leave. You guys lingered there, finding random little things to talk about to prevent saying goodbye.

“Thank you for hearing me out, by the way.” He said to you after another small moment of silence and you smiled up at him as you leaned on your car and smiled at him. “You didn’t have to after everything.”

“Of course. I’m really glad you reached out to me.” You assured him and he nodded and pulled you in for a hug for maybe the third time now and you nestled into him and sighed, “I really missed you too.” You hummed softly and he pulled back a little bit, enough to be able to look into your eyes again. Neither of you wanted to let go more than that.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You said instantly, “Please.” You chuckled and he did as well as he angled up your face gently by your jaw until he was dipping down enough to smoosh his lips against yours.

He was tentative, he didn’t want to kiss you too hard and hungrily for the first time since the time he’d mucked it up. He wanted you to feel how much he missed you and that despite his previous disrespects, that he in fact did respect you and your time and openness towards him. His fingers skimming along your jaw caused your skin to rise with goosebumps and for a delicious shiver to zing throughout your body. You wanted to lose your cool and just let things get fiery with the tension that simmered between you but he was being so patient himself that it staved off your desperation. You wanted to enjoy how soft and tender he was being right now. You liked how his feelings were emanating from him in intense waves and warming you from the inside out. Finally, he pulled away, it was painful and almost impossible to let him end the kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He whispered between the two of you and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll pick you up around 7.” He informed and you nodded.

“Okay.” You whispered and he pulled you off to the side before opening your car door, “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He smiled and you bit your lip for a moment.

“One for the road?” You asked timidly and he grinned grabbed your face before pecking your lips once more.

“There you are. Now leave while I have the self-control to let you go.” He mumbled between you two and you laughed before settling into your seat and he closed the door behind you. You buckled up and got the engine on and he backed up, giving you room to get going and with a final wave you headed home. You weren’t driving fast at all but it felt like you were flying. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as you settled into bed and stared at the dark ceiling you were wearing a huge smile until you fell asleep.

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

You’d been on edge all day wondering what it was that he would plan for you two. When you texted to ask what you should wear he said he was going for a semi-casual look, button down with a vest and trousers sort of thing so you decided on going for a similar vibe. You spent hours trying on a variety of combinations and in the end you settled on a black mini skirt with a creme colored, sleeveless knit top. You searched around for your chunky loafers and decided those paired best with the outfit as well. You had blown out your hair that morning so you got it into rollers and threw on a shower cap before you got in and exfoliated your body religiously. You knew your wax girl would kill you, but you ran a razor over your legs to get rid of the slightly prickly layer of hair growing in. You moisturized efficiently and then spritz yourself with your current preferred fragrance, Brit for Her by Burberry.

You had taken a fondness to the scent recently because it reminded you of him. Not that he even smelled like that but just vibe of it made you think of who he was. The prominent or top notes were sweet and fruity. They were bright and intriguing but not overpowering like some fruity perfumes could be. These blended so well with the warmer, darker base notes of vanilla, amber, and mahogany. It created an alluring and irresistible blend of fragrances that seemed to perfectly encompass the feeling he gave you of comfort and warmth and excitement. You wanted it to linger and be memorable, the way he lingered and was memorable to you. Truly, you had no idea where this with him would go or if it would even work out, but you knew he was the kind of person who would leave a mark on you forever.

When you got his call that he was outside you grabbed you gave yourself one more spritz, grabbed your purse, and got into your shoes before hurrying out. He was waiting outside of the car for you, his smiled widened when you saw you going down the steps.

“You look lovely.” He complimented as you approached and you smiled timidly until you got up to him.

“Thank you.” You hummed softly and he pulled you in for a hug and he froze for a second when you hugged him back.

“Fuck…you smell so good.” He hummed against you and you smirked victoriously as he squeezed around you a bit more. “Damn.” He mumbled as he dipped down to kiss right under your jaw and inhale the sweet scent. You giggled as his little bit of stubble lightly tickled your skin as he nuzzled closer.

“Stop that…” You laughed as he nipped at your skin.

“I can’t.” He huffed before kissing up to your lips and pecking over them a few times and pulling away with his lip bitten beneath his teeth.

“Please take me on a date.” You said softly and he smiled.

“Yeah alright.” He agreed with a grin and you giggled as he opened up the door for you. You greeted your driver and settled in as he hurried over to his side and soon enough you were on the road.

“So where are we going?” You asked as your fingers fiddled together and he smiled.

“You’ll see…” he said smugly and you chuckled. You both hummed along to the radio as you tried to figure out where it was you were heading but you seemed to be going in almost a circle as you started heading back towards where your house was. Then you guys turned down a street and you immediate recognized the area and saw the wine bar you guys had been to before just down the way.

“Are we going back to the wine bar?” You asked him and he immediately smiled as you started to slow down before it.

“I desperately need a do over.” He said to you and you smiled, “Things should’ve gone a lot differently than they did that night. So we’re doing it again, correctly this time.” He said with a smile as the car stopped at the valet station up front.

“You’re too sweet.” You said softly and he smiled.

You were soon helped out of the car by the attendant as Harry met you on the sidewalk and you thanked the driver and valet before looping your arms together and heading inside. He gave his name to the young lady at the entrance and she kept her cool as she guided you on back to where you sat the last time you were there. Of course, people were looking but he didn’t seem to mind and soon you were tucked into the back of the bar, mostly covered from everyone’s curious gazes and just smiling at each other across the small table. You guys ordered your first glass and then got to playing Jenga; this one had questions pasted onto the sides of the blocks so you guys went through the tower, giving your responses and discussing these until you toppled it over. You couldn’t help it, your hands were shaky with nerves but also with excitement. He looked so handsome, it was almost painful not to look at him. Soon enough, two glasses turned to four, and you were both giggly and reminiscing your filming days fondly. He had been telling a story about a little mishap he had with one of the modesty garments for one of his scenes with another actress and you two were laughing so hard.

“Wait, wait, wait, I need to go to the bathroom so bad!” You laughed breathily and he chuckled as he let your hand go over the top of the table.

“Yeah, love you go on. Do you want me to order you another?” He asked and you nodded as you hopped down from the high stool.

“Please.” you confirmed as you came around. You were half expecting it when he pulled you in by the waist and nuzzled against your neck again.

“You were too far away.” He hummed as he nipped under your jaw for a second as his big, warm palm nearly caressed down your bottom and you smiled.

“Behave.” You reprimanded playfully and he pulled back to meet your eyes.

“I am.” He assured you and you smiled. “Now go.”

“That requires letting me go.”

“I know…” he said and released you with some reluctance. He watched as you walked off, hips swaying hypnotically as you headed off.

Yeah, you needed to use the bathroom but you also needed a break from the intensity of Harry’s gaze on you. It was intense before, but now that you knew he was also into you it felt overwhelming. This entire time he found a way to graze his fingertips against yours, to knock his foot into yours, to make you aware of the minimal space between the two of you as much as possible. As if you needed a reminder of how badly you wanted him in the first place. The more you drank the deeper his voice got and the more intense the tingles got when he spoke to you, you swore you felt the vibrations of his low drawn baritone at your core, rippling out to the rest of your body with each word. Lust didn’t begin to cover what you felt for him. Even as you sat there for a moment relieving yourself you could hear some other ladies in the bathroom talking about just how good he looked tonight and how demanding and intense his energy was. How it was practically impossible not to feel him in the space. When you opened up the stall door the girls talking about it froze and watched you for a second.

“You’re not wrong.” You said to them with a small smile and they looked relieved at how relaxed you were towards them. “Please don’t tell anyone that. I just needed to get it off my chest.” You chuckled bashfully as you washed your hands.

“No girl, your secret is safe with us.” One of them assured with a kind smile.

“You guys kissed in that movie a bunch of times, how are you still alive?” One of them asked and you chuckled.

“It was hard for sure…” you confirmed, “What was worse was how sweet he is…It makes it so hard not to take it to heart.” You explained and they hummed.

“You look so cute by the way. Could we get a picture?” One of them asked and you smiled.

“Ummm sure!” You giggled and they hurried over. The first pic was a failure, you all laughed at your half closed eyes, “Sorry, I’m so fucking tipsy!” You giggled and on the third try you managed to keep your eyes open wide enough to appear normal.

“I wish we could get one with Harry too.” One of the girls said.

“Well, if you guys leave at the same time as we do I can try and talk him into it.” You offered and they gushed and thanked you and assured you they’d keep an eye out for this.

They were so sweet to you, assuring you that you looked exquisite and giving you the confidence boost you really needed to flirt up a storm with Harry. He’d been so attentive and you’d been quite cool about it, but you were ready to reciprocate and show him just how much you wanted him too. When you made your way out of the bathroom it was with a new found confidence thanks to your bathroom besties. You were walking a little taller and with a little more sway as you headed back to your table.

As you made it back to your secluded little section you saw that Harry had settled into the stool beside yours. He was initially looking at the drinks menu but then he glanced up and right into your eyes, almost as if he sensed you coming. When your eyes met you just about melted. You finally understood that famous and hunger-inducing line form Bridgerton - “I burn for you.” You were feeling it in real time. The energy between you two, the longing of his gaze and how it followed the curves of your body, taking you in from head to toe. You loved how you could see his restraint as you approached your table once again. You felt scrutinized but in a good way. You felt desirable, you felt like the perfect and delicate thing you’d always wanted to be in someone’s gaze. He made you feel like you were worth all the effort and more and you loved that. You knew you could be a little intense and rough around the edges at times but he clearly liked that. He found it amusing and endearing. He loved having something to fight for. He enjoyed proving to you why he was worth your time and effort.

“What?” you asked as you reached your seat and he shook his head.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful.” He hummed lowly as you settled into your seat. You smiled and then glanced up to him.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so, love. Convincing myself otherwise was absolute torture.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile and all of the feelings you had for him boiling inside of you. He shook his head and glanced down at his hands timidly. “Don’t do that…”

“Why not?” You pressed and he looked at you again.

“I don’t think I can handle it all.” He explained with a pained look in his eyes and you hummed softly. “You already smell so divine that I want to be close in enough to breathe you in. But you biting on your lip like that makes me want to bite it for you and suck it between my own. I know you’d taste so sweet because you like chewing that bubble mint gum.” He said to you lowly and you nodded almost dumbly as your gazes remained locked on each others.

“What if we call it a night a little early?” You asked him quietly and he smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded and shivered when one of his hands landed on your thigh, right over your knee.

“Text the driver.” You instructed and he nodded and pulled out his phone as you reached for your glass of wine. You chugged it down quickly as he texted the man, it was amusing to him how desperate you were to get out of there.

“D’you wanna stop for dumpli-”

“No.” You cut him off and he grinned before reaching for his own glass.

“I kind of don’t want to be anymore buzzed for you but-”

“It’ll feel nicer.” You said with a smile and he hummed.

“It would…” He agreed, his own smile ghosting along his lips.

“I’m still good though, are you?”

“Yeah, love.”

“Then, who cares?” You asked.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” You assured him.

“I want you so fucking bad. That’s what were talking about, right?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.” You confirmed and he flashed you that charming, dimpled boyish grin that you’d missed so much.

“Okay. As long as you really don’t mind-”

“I don’t. I promise you. Just want to be alone with you.” You assured him and he hummed and finished his glass. “I ummm ran to some girls in the bathroom, they were so sweet to me, they were fans and I told them if they walked out behind us you could take a picture with them outside. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, love.” He assured and you smiled. Moments later the driver was informing you he was pulling up and you started to head out. The girls from the bathroom followed, as you instructed, and they got their photo before you guys slipped into the SUV smoothly and headed off into the night.

You were tingling with his hand running up and down your leg, his fingers danced along your skin. His nose was buried against your neck, kissing you up and down as he inhaled the sweet scent lingering on your skin and in your hair. He was whispering to you how much he missed you and how he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time in reaching out. His fingers were burning into your skin as he slid them up your thigh to a dangerous degree until you gripped around his wrist and smirked at him knowingly.

“What?” He whispered huskily, his eyes already dark and hazy with need.

“You know what…” you hummed lowly and he grinned.

“Sorry, I am trying to behave.” He assured you and then planted a kiss on your temple and lowered his hand to above your knee again. As much as you were asking him to stop, a part of you enjoyed how he pushed the limits a little bit. He clearly was dying to touch you and you were absolutely touch starved. Even just having him rubbing over your knee was causing your skin to rise with goosebumps. You couldn’t arrive at your place any sooner.

When you were finally heading up your driveway you were about ready to burst at the seems. You could feel how wet you were for him, it was even dripping down between your cheeks and you knew he’d love to discover that on his own so you kept it to yourself. Once you got out of the car and thanked the driver, he took off and you keyed your way into your home. As soon as the door closed behind you he pressed you up against it and locked eyes with you.

“This is where I need the do over.” He mumbled, lips tickling your own.

“Tell me more…” You whispered and he smiled and gabbed your jaw with his right hand while he grabbed your hip with his left and he leaned in and kissed you quickly, like he had that first time and his eyes met yours with a fake apologetic look in them, it was amusing really.

“Shit.” He whispered between you two; just like he had the first time, “That was a mistake.” He hummed as he looked into your eyes and you smiled as you decided to play along and role play it with him.

“Then why did you do it?” You asked and he bit his lip, nose skimming your nose with his again.

“I can’t help it. I like you. I like you so fucking much, Y/N.” He confessed softly.

“Then do it again. Like you mean it this time.” You requested. Before you knew it he grabbed your face and kissed your deeply. The hunger of it was making you weak in the knees. Your tongues tangled as you guided his hands down your waist, hips, and finally to the bottom of your skirt.

“Yeah? Can I?”

“Please.” You insisted and he slid them up under the fabric to feel your underwear-covered butt. He kneaded your cheeks in his big, warm palms, squeezing the fleshy bits fervently and feeling you up, pressing you up against his growing erection.

“I want you. I want you so fucking bad.” He breathed into your mouth.

“Me too.” You panted as you looped your arms around his neck, “Should we go up to my room?”

“Are you sure?” He asked once more through his ragged breaths. You kissed his slowly and nodded into it.

“I’m so fucking sure.” You confirmed breathlessly and he kissed you deeply again before you guided him up the stairs and into your bedroom. You threw the door back and you two immediately started undressing.

You didn’t care to make it all that romantic, especially with how tipsy you both were, you guys just wanted to feel each other. So as soon as you were naked you guys fell into your bed and he kissed from your lips down your body. He didn’t waste an opportunity to inhale your perfume before sinking down to your breasts and sucking at your needy nipples while his fingers rubbed precise little circles into your throbbing little clit with no preamble. You were grateful he got straight to it because you were desperate for any stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet f’me, baby.” He hummed before nipping at your sensitive nipple once more and you whimpered, “Is that how bad you want me?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes, I want you so bad!” You whined as he pulled and sucked at your breasts with more force. You winced and whined as he sucked marks into the tender flesh of them to his satisfaction and your own. Before long you started to feel that familiar warmth swirling in the put of your stomach from his fingers on your clit. “Yeah H, just like that!” You cried into the air as he swirled around the sensitive little button over and over until your vision started to blur with your approaching orgasm.

His lips kissed down your abdomen and finally he ended up between your legs and licked at you expertly and you mewled in satisfaction. His tongue replaced his fingers and flicked at your needy little bud while one of his fingers plunged into the depths of you, searching around for your spot. When your legs startled to tremble around his head, attempting to lock him in place he knew you were close. And just seconds later he pulled an orgasm from you with ease and snuck in another finger in, this caused you to gasp and tense up before you just melted into your bed. He was just hitting the perfect spot with his fingertips, rubbing into a part of you that was making your pussy flutter in a way it never had before and you felt another orgasm unexpectedly building up.

“Yes! Yes, baby! I-I’m coming!” You gasped and he moaned into your pussy as he tarted to suck on your clit and you began to whither around his thick, lock digits. You were covered in goosebumps as the pleasure started to roll through your body in wonderfully timed waves that allowed you to enjoy his persistent stimulation into your greedy little cunt. Even this wasn’t enough. You were trembling but begging for more. “Please, I need you. I need more.” You panted in your impaired state.

“Don’t have a condom, love.” He chuckled against your smooth and sticky folds.

“Just pull out.” You panted as you raked your fingers into his hair and he groaned against you.

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He chuckled and you bit your lip and tugged him up by the hair until his eyes met yours.

“I’m serious.” You assured him as you swallowed thickly, “Please baby, need you to fuck me. Need you to fuck me so good I forget everything except you.” You panted and he licked over his lips with a near pained expression.

“ Baby-”

“Please, H. Please, give it t’me. Want you so badly, it hurts, that’s how bad I need you.” You begged and he groaned as he caved to your request with a deep and sloppy kiss. You knew he was painfully hard as well. As much as you wanted a taste of him, you’d much rather feel his big, thick cock spreading you open and splitting you apart.

“Y’sure?” He panted as he hovered above you.

“I’m so sure, baby. So sure.” You assured him as he glanced up at you and before you knew it he was kneeling over you as you helped him out of his boxer-briefs, wrapping his thick length in your palm the moment it fell out of its constraint.

“Shit, a little tighter.” He mumbled and you tightened your grip around him and stroked him over and over, up and down, keeping him at full mast. “That’s it. Jus’like that.” He sighed in relief. You could feel the sticky texture of his precome when you’d reach the tip and drag it down his length. After a few moment of this he lowered his hips and settled against your hot and drenched folds, immediately the wet squelching sounds of him sliding through your labia became the most prominent sound between you two. “So fucking wet f’me. Shit, you want my cock so bad, don’t you?” He panted and you nodded and whined, “Say it. Say you want my cock in that pretty little pussy and I’ll fuck you with it. Stretch open that tight little hole, make it all mine.” He breathed into the minimal space between you two.

“Please, H.” You panted, “I need your cock. Need to feel you spreading my tight little hole open.” You pleaded, tearful eyes meeting his and he groaned and leaned down, squeezing his eyes shut as he kissed you for a few seconds before he guided himself down to your entrance and fed the tip into your weepy little hold. “Oh fuck!” You gasped softly as he started to push in and he moaned as he felt you start to stretch around him.

“You can take it. I know you can, baby.” He panted as his eyes met your wide eyes again. You nodded in confirmation for him to keep going and he pushed in further, splitting you open until your eyes just fluttered shut until he was bottoming out and sheathed fully in the warmth of your wet and velvety walls.

You swore his tip was poking into your stomach from how deep he was. You’d never felt so full before, you were paralyzed for a few moments. He was big and thick, you swore it wiped out part of your brain when he started to grind into you. The thick, ruddy tip of his cock was prodding into your g-spot, causing your mind to blank and for your body to shiver with an abundance of pleasure. You were getting more drunk on his dick and even the way he was grinning down at you as you let out the most obscene moans was feeding your pleasure.

“Shit, you take it so well…fuck, love to see that tight little hole stretching wide around my cock, baby. Y’feel so fucking good…so fucking tight and wet f’me.” He groaned as he thrusted in and out, watching your little hole puckering around his thick cock. He moaned every time he pulled back, watching your creamy arousal streaking down his shaft with each deep plunge into your needy little pussy. He moaned and spat against your folds before rubbing his thumb into your clit and you shuddered.

“Yes, baby! That’s it!” You mewled as you grabbed your breasts, pinching at your nipples, helping him draw you up the edge of your orgasm. Harry was panting, feeling his balls thwacking against your ass had his mind going fuzzy with excitement.

“Fuck…fuuuuck, you’re gonna make me come so fucking hard!” He chuckled breathily, head thrown back as he delivered sharp and powerful thrusts into you, over and over, living for the feeling of his tip colliding into the depths of you.

“Oh fuck…fuck! I’m…ohmygodI’mcoming!” You slurred and he smiled as you started to whither beautifully. Your back arched up, nipples pointed straight towards the ceiling as you trembled and soaked his cock with a soft squirt from how deep he was getting. Your ears were ringing and you were seeing white behind your closed eyelids but he wasn’t letting up until you got through the whole thing. You could hear him moaning and struggling to keep it together as he thrust in and out of you. Your walls pulsed around his cock hard and fast with your slick coated all over his thick length, causing him to lose some control over his movements. You were covered in goosebumps, shivering as you continued to come hard around him.

“Shit, baby! Shit!” He gasped as he started thrusting erratically, losing the steady rhythm he had maintained until now.

“Come for me, H. Come for me, baby.” You encouraged him and he pulled out quickly and you wrapped your hand around his length and he thrust into your perfectly tight grip a few times until his breath hitched and he groaned when you felt the first spurt of his hot, milky cum right over your pubic bone. He moaned lowly as he started to unload all over your already sticky pussy. You guided him between your swollen and sensitive folds, letting him thrust against you as he spilled all over your swollen pussy with his cum. His body was trembling as you rubbed at his bicep until he minimized the space between you and caught your lips with his. “Mmm…fuck…” he hummed and you smiled

“Good?”

“So fucking good.” He panted breathily and you pecked his lips quickly. “Was it good for you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, H. More than.” You assured and he smiled before kissing you again.

“Good, love.” He whispered before resting his weight on one elbow before kissing you deep and slow. He took his time tasting you properly and only pulled away when you both needed to breathe, “Jut as things should’ve been from the start.” He hummed and you kissed his lips quickly.

“We’re here now, yeah?” You asked quietly and he smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So, does this mean we can give us a real chance?” He asked as his fingers found yours and you nodded and smiled as he bought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I’d love that, Harry.” You assured him and he smiled brightly at you.

“Thank you for giving me another chance after the stunt I pulled before.” He said more seriously.

“I like you too much not to.” You said with a small smile and he smiled and kissed you once more.

“Well I assure you, there’s far more making up I plan on doing…” He smirked and you bit your lip excitedly, “Just you wait.”

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podiumackles · 3 months ago

Text

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 2

A/N: English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: not much in this chapter. mentions of power imbalance, possibly swearing, Soldier Boy's incorrect view of what a man needs to be, mentions of (mental) abuse and manipulation, and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

1980s

Soldier Boy had noble intentions to protect and serve his country. He had dignity, honour, and believed every man should grow up to be a “real man”, as his father had repeatedly told him.

Enduring the Second World War wasn’t enough.

Becoming a superhero wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough. Not for his father.

His father’s words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder that no matter what he achieved, it was never sufficient.

A real man builds his own success, with his own two hands. He doesn't cheat his way into power.

Those words shaped him, pushing him to become something greater than just a soldier, more than just a hero in the public eye. But no matter how many enemies he thought he vanquished or how many medals adorned his chest, he couldn't escape the feeling that he was failing his father’s impossible standard of manhood.

But the 1980s were a far cry from the battlefields of his youth. Superheroes were no longer symbols of patriotism and sacrifice—they were products, controlled by Vought, manipulated into glossy icons for public consumption. Soldier Boy's clean-cut, all-American image had become a brand, slapped onto cereal boxes and comic books. In private, however, he was chafing under the weight of being Vought’s golden boy. He was a symbol, a puppet, but to his father, he was still just a disappointment.

The breaking point came when Vought began assembling a new team of supes- as Vought would call them- to form the latest supergroup. Ben, a natural leader in his own eyes, felt a simmering resentment. He wasn’t a team player. He was meant to be the star—the hero who stood above the rest, not one who shared the spotlight. To him, the team would only drag him down, undermine his own success, and ruin the carefully crafted image he had worked so hard to build.

But, despite everything, Vought’s grip would always have been too strong. So, despite his disdain, he reluctantly agreed. They understood him. And he needed them. He had been sure he would be appointed the leader of this new group. When he was, he would ensure control over every aspect of the team so they wouldn’t lead to his downfall. This was his time.

As he stood in Vought’s headquarters, a sense of superiority coursed through him. He was the seasoned war hero, the one who had fought on real battlefields. These supes were nothing more than attention-seeking showboats, eager for fame rather than true service.

You, dressed in an orange-red suit, stood next to him with wide-eyed curiosity. You looked like you were barely out of your teens, your youthful face betraying your lack of experience. "Is it true, then?" you asked, your voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "You killed the president?"

Ben thought the suits Vought had made for the team were ridiculous. He wouldn't need a special suit to be the best version of himself. He wouldn't need anything but himself.

Without looking at you, he growled, “You believe everything you hear?”

You blinked, taken aback by his gruff response, but quickly recovered. “No, I just…” you tore your gaze from him, focusing on the other supes getting in the final pieces of their attire. “Would be a shame to be on the team with a murderer.”

Your words lingered in the tight air between you. He realised you had put up a facade, a mask to hide your wariness of the man next to you. You didn’t idolise him. In fact, you might have been close to despising, if he didn’t know any better.

Ben finally turned his head to face you, his eyes cold and unwavering. Your suit tied around your body, but it seemed loose enough to not reveal too much to the outside. Cloves hugged your delicate hands and reached until well near your elbows. A small cape was fastened onto your wrists, which Ben found all the more ridiculous. Who the fuck needs a cape?

“I’m no murderer,” his words were short, harsh. This woman had no right to speak to him like that. “At least not to people who didn’t deserve it.”

“Did he deserve it?” You started, looking back at the slightly taller man next to you. “The president.”

“I didn’t kill the fucking president.”

Soldier Boy’s glare intensified as he sized you up. Your audacity infuriated him. He had dealt with enough scepticism from his father—he didn’t need it from some rookie in a costume Vought had only designed to sell toys.

The room around you buzzed with activity as the other members of the team prepared for their first group appearance. Ben seethed in silence. These so-called superheroes were nothing like the comrades he fought alongside in the war. They lacked discipline, focus, and the hardened edge that came from seeing real combat. They were actors in a carefully orchestrated performance, and to him, that was a disgrace.

You still stood beside him and seemed to sense his irritation, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you tilted your head and raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to lash out.

“You think you're better than us, don’t you?” you asked, your voice quieter this time, but laced with a subtle challenge.

Soldier Boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “Better? I don’t think, doll. I know.”

Your lips curled into a smirk, and for the first time, Ben noticed a flash of something in your eyes—something darker, more calculating than the wide-eyed naivety you'd shown earlier.

“Maybe you do,” you said, your voice a low murmur now. “But this isn't the ‘40s anymore. It’s not about who’s the toughest soldier out there. This world, Vought’s world, is about control. It’s about image and playing the game.” You glanced around the room at the other supes. “And you, with all your medals and war stories, are just another player.”

Your words rang through his ears more than he’d like to, and he started to think he thought of you wrongly. You weren't an ordinary trophy girl- you weren't someone to idolise him. You had your own strong opinion, and it wasn't something Ben was sure he could live with.

He clenched his fists, a storm of rage starting to brew inside him, but before he could respond, a booming voice cut through the tension.

“Alright, team!” The commanding voice belonged to Vought’s newest public relations handler, a slick man in an expensive suit. “It’s showtime!”

You shot Soldier Boy a final, knowing glance before you turned away, your cape swishing dramatically as you moved toward the centre of the room. Ben remained where he was, his jaw clenched, watching you. He hated your arrogance, but deep down, he knew you weren't wrong.

This wasn’t the battlefield. This wasn’t about sacrifice, honour, or even survival. This was a new kind of war, one he wasn’t sure he knew how to win.

But win it, he would.

Because failure? That was never an option. Not for him. And certainly not for his father.

As the team assembled for their public debut, Soldier Boy straightened his shoulders and put on his best, most patriotic smile. No one in the crowd would ever know the battle raging inside him, the war he fought against the crushing weight of expectations.

He would play the game, for now. And when the time was right, he would remind them all just how dangerous a man like him could be.

Cameras flashed; eight new heroes to represent America, to supposedly save the residents from upcoming threats, upcoming wars.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the commanding voice rang through their ears again. “May I present to you, your heroes, your idols, your team; Payback.”

Pictures were taken, but Ben paid it no mind. He was used to all the attention, to all the girls swooning over him. He stood front and centre, flashing his most practised, toothy grin. The name Payback echoed in his ears. A team to stand up for their people. But this wasn’t about anything but pride to Ben—it was about staying on top, holding onto the power and prestige he had built over decades.

And the team around him felt like a joke.

You stood a little behind him, a faint smirk still playing on your lips. Your audacity lingered in his mind, taunting him. Despite himself, he couldn’t shake the way you had spoken—calm, deliberate, and entirely sure of yourself. That was rare. Most of the other heroes around him were too obsessed with fame and too concerned with their image. They fell in line because Vought told them to.

Ben clenched his jaw, his father's words echoing in his mind once again.

A real man builds his own success, with his own two hands.

But was this success? Standing here, posing for the cameras, while Vought puppeteered them all? It didn’t feel like the heroism he had once envisioned. The battlefield, the grit, the true sacrifice—it had all been replaced by PR campaigns and flashy photo ops.

Still, he knew better than to show weakness. He had perfected the art of hiding his inner turmoil, just as his father had taught him. To the world, he was still the unbeatable war hero, the icon of American masculinity. No one would ever see the cracks beneath the surface—the doubt, the frustration, the endless quest to be enough.

As the cameras continued snapping, Soldier Boy’s mind wandered your words. It’s about control. Image. Playing the game. You had said those words so matter-of-factly as if you had already accepted the new rules of this world.

After the press conference, the team dispersed to prepare for their first mission together—a staged event, of course, meant to show the world how “heroic” they were. But Soldier Boy lingered, watching as the others left the room.

One thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let anyone take his place at the top. He would play the game his way, and when the time came, he would show them all—Vought, Payback, his father—that he was still the strongest, still the best.

Because if there was one thing Ben knew, it was that in the end, power didn’t come from suits or smiles. Power came from dominance, from control, and from the ability to crush anyone who dared to stand in your way.

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

As he turned to leave, Soldier Boy caught a glimpse of himself in one of the giant mirrors that lined the hallway. He stared at his reflection—his square jaw, broad shoulders, and the tight-fitting mask over his head. He looked every bit the hero Vought had made him out to be. But simultaneously, he looked ridiculous.

“Suits are cool, huh?” your familiar voice spoke up as he left the previous room and wandered the hallways of the slightly known building. “Kidding. You look awful.”

Ben hadn’t thought he looked awful altogether; the green hugged his features wonderfully, the gold details shining as a representation of his pride. Just the mask was a reject.

“Can’t say any different about you.” Ben said matter-of-factly.

The hallway was dimly lit, and he continued walking with purpose, ignoring the voice behind him. He didn’t need anyone's approval—especially not from the cocky rookie now catching up with him. The smirk he had seen earlier was back, and you walked with a casual confidence that irritated him even more.

You weren't one to shy away from confrontation, clearly. Your snarky comment about his suit wasn’t just meant to jab at him; it was part of the ongoing game you seemed intent on playing. Ben found it annoying, yet there was something about you that stood out. You weren't like the obedient pawns he was used to, always falling in line and praising him without question.

"Aw, don’t be like that," you teased, still walking alongside him. Your cape fluttered with each step, an accessory he couldn’t understand the need for, as if to taunt him for eternity. “Just saying, for someone who’s supposed to be the leader, you sure look like you're heading into a costume party instead of a mission.”

Ben clenched his jaw but kept walking. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of a response.

You continued, undeterred by his silence. “But you know, maybe that’s the point. We’re all just playing dress-up here, aren’t we? Vought dresses us up, makes us look shiny, and sends us out to wave at the cameras. Nothing heroic about it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ben finally muttered, his voice low. “I’ve seen real combat. I’ve been in the trenches. What have you done, other than talk?”

Your smirk didn’t falter, though your eyes darkened slightly. “You’re right,” you said, a hint of venom in your voice. “I haven’t been in your precious war. But I’m not stupid. I know how things work now. And this… all of this,” you gestured around the hall, “isn’t about being a hero. It’s about staying relevant. It’s about power.”

Ben stopped walking, turning to face you. His eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down, sizing you up again. “Power?” he scoffed. “You think prancing around in that cape gives you power?”

Your smirk faded, replaced with a more serious expression. “No, I think understanding how to use what I’ve got gives me power. You’re strong, Soldier Boy. No one’s doubting that. But strength doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to play the game. And that’s where you’re going to lose.”

Ben’s fists clenched. “I don’t lose.”

“We’ll see.” You stepped back, eyes locked with his. There was no fear in them, just a cool, calculated calm. “But you should know, they own you, just like they own all of us.”

Silence fell between them, only the annoying presence of you urging him to keep on walking.

“Name’s Fury by the way. For the public, that is.”

He glanced at you quickly, frowning before letting his eyes fall on the relics on the walls when they continued their way.

“Soldier Boy.”

Ben could’ve sworn he heard you laugh; just the faintest hint of a breath leaving your mouth in a way that angered him.

“I know that,” you spoke, and he grew to feel more frustrated at the feeling you wouldn’t leave him alone. “You got a real name?”

“Yes.”

“Mine is Y/n.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“Alright, I’ll figure it out eventually." Your words echoed in Ben’s mind as you walked away, pace speeding up to leave him alone in the hallway. He stared after you, his mind racing with a storm of thoughts he wasn’t used to entertaining. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to force his mind back to what mattered: control, power, dominance. But your words lingered like a stubborn itch he couldn’t scratch.

You were audacious, irritating, and worst of all, you had a point.

Ben hated to admit it, but you seemed to understand the game better than most. Vought didn’t care about his war stories or his medals. To them, and to the world they controlled, he was just another pawn in a machine far bigger than the battlefield. For all his strength, for all the wars he had fought and won, Ben was no longer the master of his own destiny. He was trapped in a world of PR stunts and corporate interests. And that gnawed at him, more than he cared to admit.

He had always believed power came from raw strength, from being the toughest, the strongest. But this new world, this world of superheroes-for-hire and manufactured images, was different.

Ben’s jaw tightened as he turned and continued down the hallway, alone with his thoughts. Vought owned him, you had said. That was the part that stung the most. He had spent his life trying to prove to his father that he could succeed on his own terms. But the truth was, his success had always been shaped by someone else. First his father, now Vought.

As he entered the large meeting room, where Payback's first mission briefing was about to take place, he felt a new kind of resolve building inside him. He didn’t like playing games, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Vought—or you—think they had the upper hand. He was still Soldier Boy, the greatest hero America had ever known, and he would prove it.

The team was already gathered, some stretching, some chatting, all waiting for their cue from Vought’s handlers. You werethere too, standing off to the side with your arms crossed, your eyes scanning the room with that same calculated coolness. You caught his gaze for a moment, but there was no smirk this time. Just a flicker of something that almost looked like respect—or perhaps it was just curiosity.

He didn’t care.

Ben straightened his shoulders and strode to the front of the room, where the mission briefing was about to begin. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t need anyone to tell him how to lead.

The lights dimmed, and a large screen flickered to life. A Vought executive appeared, slick and polished as always, ready to guide them through their heroic PR spectacle.

The exec began, his voice oozing with rehearsed enthusiasm. “Your mission today is simple: protect, serve, and show the world why Payback is the team they can trust.”

Ben barely listened. The mission was standard fare—save some politicians from a staged crisis, and make it look good for the cameras. Easy. What he cared about was how he would position himself at the top of the group. This wasn’t just about completing the mission; this was about showing everyone that Soldier Boy wasn’t just another cog in the machine.

After some specifics and unnecesary questions from his lower ranked team, they filed out toward the transport that would take them to the mission site. Ben was the last to leave the room, watching as the others chatted excitedly, eager to get into costume and play the part Vought had crafted for them.

He glanced once more at you, your back to him as you spoke quietly with another member of the team. You were different. You weren't a puppet like the others. That made you dangerous.

But Ben wasn’t worried.

Because at the end of the day, he knew one thing for certain: he didn’t lose.

And when the time came, when he reminded the world just what a real man, a real hero, could do, You—and everyone else—would be forced to recognize that.

He was Soldier Boy. And this? This was just the beginning.

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #soldier boy smut #the boys #the boys tv

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twig-tea · 2 months ago

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East Palace, West Palace in ep5 of Blue Canvas of Youthful Days

I have been punched in the solar plexus by Blue Canvas of Youthful Days episode 5. So much happens in that episode that is overwhelming, from Qi Lu setting up a Netflix-and-chill date with the clear intention of making a move, to his putting on the famous film East Palace, West Palace (1996), to Qi Lu hiding Qin Xiao in the closet, to Qi Lu's panic at his father realizing he's been lied to, to the devastatingly practiced way Teacher Liu steps to Qi Lu being abused and handles his father, to the way Qi Lu shuts down, to the way QIn Xiao keeps sending mixed signals and Qi Lu calls him on it directly. And nobody else in this episode let me rest either; Tan Fan trying to ask Teacher Liu to wait for him and Liu brushing him off AGAIN, and Turtle trying to call out

@lurkingshan was already more coherent than I can be right now about what happened in the episode in her post.

So instead I want to focus on some queer cinema history that this episode evoked by using East Palace, West Palace as the film that Qi Lu shows to QIn Xiao.

For those who don't know, EPWP is considered to be the first realistic depiction of a gay man in film by a mainland Chinese production. It is to my knowledge the first time a gay man says "I love you" to another man on screen. It was made before being gay was decriminalized in China (1997), and it was filmed by an independent production company and smuggled out of China to France in order to be finished and distributed. It ended up at the Cannes festival in 1997, but the director's passport was seized and he was placed under house arrest to prevent him from attending. Despite pressure to pull the film, it still aired that year. In 1998, the Film Law was passed to prevent anyone from making films outside of the studio system (and therefore censorship review), effectively preventing anything like EPWP from being made in the future.

The film is about a gay man who cruises in the notorious bathrooms in the parks on either side of Tiananmen Square getting harassed by police officers (a situation extremely familiar to the historical queer experience in Canada [where I'm from] as well) and playing what I'd describe as a psychological game with one of them; A Lan kisses the cop, runs, and then gets caught a second time, and uses the second police confession as an excuse to tell his life's story in the public record, all while pushing the police officer a little further into deviance. As far as I'm aware, this film has been banned in China since being made and never shown (please correct me if I'm wrong about that!).

This is hitting me hard because of the much more recent history of Blue Canvas of Youthful Days itself. As most of you know, but I'll capture here for posterity, episodes 1-4 of this show aired on iQIYI (a China-based app) on August 6, and within 24 hours they were pulled from the app with no information about the future episodes being shown. When I watched episode 5 today, after waiting for it for 3 months, I was immediately hit with a wave of anger that this gorgeous, emotionally moving and powerful episode had been held back from public consumption for months, for the same reasons that the film being shown within the episode had been withheld from viewing in its own country.

Censorship is such an ugly thing, it's hard to articulate but the emotions around it are so strong because we know, when they pull or refuse to show media that depicts our lives, it's because they don't want our lives to be real; they don't want us to exist. It's a very real threat. And to have this episode--which is all about an abused boy who is in very real danger but so bravely insisting that he shoot his shot and take his best chance at love and happiness anyway, using the iconic confession scene from one of the most famous banned films in Chinese queer cinema history to do it--to have this episode be the one that was prevented from airing......I am overwhelmed.

In the scenes they watch in episode 5, A Lan tries to prevent the officer from uncuffing him, and then the officer lets him go, but A Lan doesn't go far and comes back. He declares his love to the officer's face, and demands that his love be acknowledged and not dismissed. And the officer does not know what to do with it and reacts with violence, which is partially what A Lan has been angling at all along. The show really played with this by having all three of the couples in the show stymied by having their overtures dismissed this episode, but we almost didn't get to see it.

I'm so grateful this got distribution now, and on multiple platforms. Blue Canvas of Youthful Days is airing Saturdays and Sundays on GagaOOLala and Youtube (note, as per @thisonelikesaliens's excellent language posts, the subs on Gaga are much better), and on Mondays on Viki. I know there is an avalanche of content right now, but this show is so good and worked so hard to make it to us, please give it some love!

#blue canvas of youthful days #east palace west palace (1996)#typed so that i can stop thinking it #queer history

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dewdropdinosaur · 3 months ago

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Sweet Suffering - A Dead by Hazbin Production

Summary: You weaved across the map, generator after generator starting to hum with life. So close to the end, the door nearly in sight. But he stalked you every night. And this time you wouldn't escape him. Warning: Smut, P in V, slight dub con, public sex, oral sex, sub/dom dynamics, possesiveness, yandere Zestial, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. WOHOO! Happy Halloween! I want to thank @fraugwinska and @macabr3-barbi3 for setting up this event. Go check out the other Dead by Hazbin fics/art on Tumblr and Ao3!

Notes: Human!Zestial x Reader → Human appearance but still has demon powers. 7e38b1d2762744aebaa89a641b39bb5b.jpg F2d0040f-d3e5-40b9-aadb-e76bcd7bb0af-1-5-400x0.webp For the loves of my horny heart @xalygatorx and @kewpikayo

The fog curled around the trees like a living thing, twisting and distorting the very fabric of reality. Zestial, found himself in this nightmarish landscape, drawn by the thrill of the hunt and the allure of control. Killed unfortunately by an attack from Heaven, The Entity offered him revenge and rewarded him well for his work, as he served dutifully.

Landing in the Garden of Joy, nestled properly in the Gazebo, he waited for the game to begin.

He prowled the parking lot with a predatory grace, his eyes glinting with a mix of hunger and something darker. His prey was you, a survivor with a fierce determination and a spirit that intrigued him. You had survived each killer and round thus far, sometimes single-handedly starting every generator and making it to the exit gate.. Beguiling every attack and every attempt.

As he spotted you sprinting through the underbrush, heart pounding, he felt an inexplicable pull—a sick attraction that stirred something deeper within him.

You ducked behind a crumbling wall, breath coming in frantic gasps. You could hear him, the way his footsteps echoed with confidence, each step a reminder that you were not alone in this twisted game. The thrill of survival sent adrenaline coursing through your veins, catching sight of Zestial’s silhouette against the dim light, his green eyes glinting in the moonlight sending a shiver down your spine. He had always been quick, sparing no one. The Entity loved him for that, the lack of mercy satiated Her appetite.

Zestial's voice, smooth and taunting, slithered through the air. “You can’t hide forever, darling. The game has only just begun.” He relished the chase, the way you darted from one hiding spot to another, each movement a dance of desperation that captivated him. He loved this part the most. As you weave through the obstacles, quickly jumping from one generator to the next, like a firefly flickering in the darkness. And he, the moth, was drawn to your light. With each close call, he felt a twisted thrill—every encounter more electrifying than the last, the line between hunter and hunted blurring.

In a moment, everything was still. No rustling of leaves, no wind blowing across the Gazebo. All five generators are up and running. This was it, the chance to escape. Finally heading towards the exit gate, in a flash of black and green, you stumbled over a log; and Zestial seized the opportunity. He appeared before you in a wisp of black smoke, towering and imposing, but there was an odd gentleness in his gaze. “Why dost thou run?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don't thou want to indulge me, darling?”

Your heart raced, not just from fear but something mild stirred within your chest at the sight of his eyes. Piercingly green, like a cool spring day in the mountains as rain fell upon a forest. One could easily sense the darkness within him, yet something about his intensity called out. “I don’t want to play.” you shot back, voice firm despite your body’s trembling.

Zestial’s smirk widened, intrigued by the defiance. “Ah, but that’s the beauty of it. Thou art challenge. And challenges make the hunt worthwhile.” He leaned closer, his voice low and seductive, “Thou thinkest you can escape me, but I promise, I’ll always find you.”

With a sudden burst of energy, you dash away, heart pounding as you navigate the maze of trees and debris. But Zestial was relentless, shadows clinging to him like a second skin. He reveled in the chase, the thrill of the hunt intertwining with a dangerous obsession.

One glancing encounter became a twisted dance—a game of cat and mouse where every near miss only heightened the tension. Each time he caught a glimpse of your defiance, Zestial felt that sick attraction grew. Sprinting towards the exit gate, a glimmer of hope surges through your heart. But Zestial was already there, blocking the path, a predator cornering its prey. “Thou canst escape, my dear,” he purred, his voice a blend of danger and allure. “And honestly, why would thou want to?”

You stood your ground, trembling but unyielding. “I won’t let you take me,” you declare, determination shining through the fear. At that moment, Zestial’s expression shifted, a flicker of something almost resembling respect sparking in his eyes. “Then let’s see how far thee can run,” he replied, stepping back, giving you a chance to flee—just this once. The Entity loved the delicious emotions that emitted from his victims, She would certainly enjoy this one.

Taking off, heart pounding, mind racing; your legs were pumping as hard as they could go, sweat making hair stick to the nape of your neck. You didn’t know what this strange occurrence meant, but one thing was clear: in this deadly game, Zestial was more than just a hunter. He was a game master, enjoying the sick thrill of the hunt.

Wisps of shadow danced around tauntingly, Zestials cold laugh echoing throughout the parking lot. Veering left, right, and center; no escape was possible from the cold bitter gaze that followed you wherever you went. You could feel your legs starting to give out, the harsh underbrush cutting them to oblivion. And yet, mercy was not in the cards today.

Without warning, Zestial appeared in front of you, wielding a malicious-looking scythe over his shoulder, the bloody blade glinting in the moonlight. He held the old and elegant weapon with ease, having wielded the weapon for a long while.

“Tch, tch. I thought thou would get farther my dear. I am disappointed in thee.” Backing up in fright and looking around frantically for any route of escape, you found none.

“Please, come on. Can’t we work something out–” Taking a breath, summoning the last vestiges of courage. “Wait!” you shouted, voice trembling. Zestial paused, curiosity flickering in his cold gaze. “Deals…you like deals. I know you do. You…bargain with your victims.”

His lips curled into a smirk, a predatory gleam igniting his eyes. “And what could a survivor like thee possibly offer me?”

Desperation clawed at your insides. “Whatever you want…just please. I–I don’t want to die….”

He tilted his head, the air thick with tension. “Thou thinkest yourself so brave?”

Gulping, mild confusion spread across your features at his words. “Just…name your price.”

Zestial’s laughter echoed through the trees, deep and menacing. “Interesting, indeed. Very well.” Stalking forward with calculated steps, his long robe dragged across the ground, making it look like he was a grim reaper coming to take you away. Swinging the scythe off his shoulder, Zestial brought the tip of the blade to lift the edge of your chin; he could end it all right here. One slice and it would all be over. But the thought of having a bargaining chip, to extend this already oh-so-delicious chase, the mere idea taunted his conscience. The Entity wouldn’t mind, She would love the scrumptious emotions he was about to pull out of this defiant survivor.

Sliding the blade lower, it scratched the surface of your collarbone, leaving a small trickle of blood in its wake. His proximity is overwhelming, his presence dominating completely. Grinning down at your wild eyes, clearly enjoying the control he has. He leans in even closer, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear; voice now a low, seductive murmur.

"Tell me," he says, his tone smooth and commanding. "Dost thou know what I can do to thee? Dost thou know the power I hold over thee?"

You gulp, the sting of the blade sending shivers down your spine. This shouldn’t be this attractive, this killer, this monster shouldn’t be the object of any affection. Yet he is. "Oh, my dear," he says, "Thou continue to underestimate me. I have so many ways to make thee submit, to show thee who's in charge here."

He leans in closer, his lips now nearly brushing against you as he speaks."Would thou likest a demonstration?" he whispers. "A little taste of what thou hast agreed to?"Zestial’s eyes light up with a cold intensity as he grins down at you, clearly relishing the challenge. Nodding dumbly, awestruck by the scene unfolding before your eyes; his touch, the blood dripping down your chest, the arousal pooling in your pants, it’s almost all too overwhelming to bear.

"Very well, my dear," he says, his tone still smooth and commanding. "Thou hast asked for it. Just remember, thou hast brought this upon thyself." With that, he swipes his blade down, tearing your shirt in two. Gasping at the sudden cool air that hits your torso and attempting to shield yourself with your arms, Zestial will not allow it. He grabs your chin in a firm grip, forcing your gaze to meet his own. His eyes burn with determination, a small inkling of something that lurks beneath the black and green orbs before he slams his lips onto your chapped ones. His lips trail kisses down your neck, his hands now roaming over your hips, squeezing gently.

"Thou canst keep fighting me all thou wants, but in the end, thou will give in. Thou shall be mine." Zestial backs you into the nearest tree, his body now pressing you against the cold wood as he devours your neck. His tongue explores the soft, sensitive flesh, claiming it as his own. Pulling back, mind reeling with emotions, you break the kiss. Panting, hair disheveled, you can’t help but marvel at the string of saliva that connected your lips. This was too much, too insane even for you, the one stuck and supposedly succeeding in this wretched game. While continued life was promised, was having relations with this most infamous killer really worth it? How did you know he would keep his promise, why was the Entity allowing this? Question after question floods your mind, a mirage of emotions and apprehensions.

Sensing this, Zestial bends to nip at your neck, making you let out a soft moan. His eyes darken as he grins at your weakened and pliant state, the hoarseness of your voice a clear indication of the effect he's had. "Thou thinkest thou can fight this, my dear?" he says, his voice now a low growl, "Thou thinkest thee can resist my power?"

He pins his arms around you once more, inching closer, eyes fixated on the way your chest rises and falls with each gasp for air. "Thou hast already lost," he murmurs, his voice filled with a seductive menace. "Thou art too stubborn to admit it. My perfect little survivor…” Mewling in protest as he continues the assault on your neck, his lips slowly maneuvering down to suck at your breast, you desperately try to remove him.

"Mmm, keep denying it," he whispers, his lips now moving to your hips as he sinks to his knees "But thine body betrays thee, my dear. It responds so perfectly to my touch, so willingly."

Pulling down your pants, he is hit with the luscious scent of arousal staining your underwear. Diving into your clothed cunt, not caring to remove the offending article, he sucks and laps at the juices that continue to seep through. His mind drifts to the various ways he plans on ravishing you, the images only adding to his growing desire; his own evident by the tightening of his pants. Every so often, his gaze drifts over to look into your lust-blown eyes, taking in the appearance of the way sweat clings to your chest. He can tell your pulse is racing and it drives him mad. The feeling of your blood rushing, the noises she emits, the way the blood on your neck trickles down over the way he marks your flesh, it’s driving him insane.

Tangling your hands in his hair, the pleasure slowly mounts as he continues his assault. You can feel him shudder as you rake your nails on his shoulders, leaving a trail of faint red lines in their way. Settling your hands to tangle and tug on his hair, moaning and arching into his wicked embrace; only serves to stoke the fires of his desire even higher. Finally deciding to remove your panties, Zestial lets them pool at your ankles as he plunges two fingers into your weeping pussy, using his tongue to now lick at your clit. Stretching you open, he adds a third finger; scissoring you wide. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body involuntarily shifts away from the overstimulation. Digging his other hand into your hip, Zestial holds you in place.

“Unless thou would like to be restrained, it would fare thee well to heed my advisories…A second attempt on my part shall not be made…”

The thoughts and stimulation nearly have you cumming on the spot, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push over the edge. Out on display for the world to see, taken ruthlessly against this tree by this dangerously handsome man is enough to have you about to burst. Smirking, Zestial enjoys the way his fingers are squelching in and out of your cunt, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life.

“Thou shalt not deny me of thine embrace–”

Feeling the tension build, the coil in your stomach snapping; you cry out in pleasure. Cum now coated his fingers, a glittering white substance in the heat of the darkness. Sucking on them, he moaned at the taste, eyeing Y/N’s weak and disheveled form. He could kill her right now, have his fill. But there was so much more fun to have with her alive.

“Thou art mine now, I own thee, my darling. Thou art mine...willingly or unwillingly…” he mutters, his voice low and possessive.

“And I'm going to show thee just how good it feels to be mine.”

THE END

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fandom #vizziepop #zestial hazbin hotel #zestial x reader #hazbin hotel smut #dead by hazbin #dead by daylight #hazbin hotel x reader smut #zestial smut #kinktober2024 #kinktober 2024 #hornyasf #hornyposting #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul

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merrybloomwrites · 5 months ago

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You Can Start a Family (Extra: Coachella)

Summary: You attend Coachella 2024 with Harry, Mitch, and Sarah. Between discovering new music, meeting people you would never have dreamed of meeting, and spending time with your three significant others, you'd say it's a pretty perfect day.

AN: Thank you to @ba8ygal for requesting this! It was very fun to write, especially with Harry currently making the rounds attending a bunch of festivals!

ALSO! I took some creative liberty with the Coachella schedule and blended Friday and Saturday's shows so it makes sense for the story.

Previous Chapters: Can be found here!

Word Count: 1.8K

CW: alcohol consumption

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One regret you have in life is not going to Coachella in 2022. It’s not that you had an opportunity and turned it down. In fact, you didn’t even know it was happening until after it ended. You also weren’t a Harry Styles fan at the time. But you woke up one morning in April and suddenly your entire tik tok for you page was Harry Styles and Shania Twain singing together.

Growing up, your parents always listened to country music so Shania’s songs were often played. It’s no surprise the algorithm showed you these videos, and you’re very grateful that they introduced you to Harry’s music.

In the following weeks you watched not only Harry’s Coachella videos on repeat, but videos from numerous past performances both solo, and from one direction. Suddenly, your life has been changed. You were now a huge Harry fan.

After finally seeing one of his concerts, you became obsessed with his band as well. Which is why it was so startling to bump into his drummer Sarah, and her husband/Harry’s guitarist Mitch. Even more surprising is when the married couple got close to you, so close that they invited you into their relationship, which eventually grew to include Harry as well.

Now, months into the four of you being together, you’re headed on a trip to Coachella. It’s not too often that you all go out in public together, not because you’re hiding per se, but more because Harry’s been laying low since Love on Tour ended. Plus Mitch and Sarah had been busy with Mitch’s tour for Come June.

All three of them are extremely excited to attend shows, rather than be in them for once. They love performing, but it’s nice to take a break and let other people entertain them for a day.

The four of you had created a plan for which shows you’d go see on this one day adventure. The toughest part would be getting from Chappel Roan’s set to Sabrina Carpenter's. Who in the world thought to put them at overlapping times?

Getting there is more of a production than you’re used to. But this being such a busy music festival, everyone’s safety is being taken very seriously. Meaning instead of the four of you just driving there together, you’re loaded up in a van with a driver and a couple security guards.

You’re sitting next to Sarah in the back row, Mitch and Harry in front of you. Harry turns to you and says, “Stay close to me today. I don’t want anything happening to you.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes considering he’s already said this numerous times. But you know he means well, is just looking out for you, so you reply, “I will, Harry. Promise.”

To be honest, you’re a little nervous. The closer you get, the more real the situation becomes. Sure you’ve been talking about this day, but now that it’s here you feel a little worried. Mostly about what people might say about the four of you together.

You’re going to have to be careful, keeping a distance from Mitch and Sarah so people don’t speculate about your relationship with them. It’s always exhausting when you need to tiptoe around your boyfriend and girlfriend but it’s worth it to keep your relationship steady.

You’re also nervous to be seen in public as Harry Styles's girlfriend. You’d overthought your outfit, changing it repeatedly in the past few days. It wasn’t until all three of them told you that they loved your outfit that you finally felt confident in it.

You just hope you won’t embarrass them, that you won’t reflect poorly on Harry. You know that people can be harsh, and they’ll judge Harry based on the things you do and say. So yea, you’re a bit anxious to be attending a music festival with him.

When the four of you arrive you’re taken to a VIP area. It’s where you’ll be hanging out any time you’re not watching anyone’s sets. You’re only there a minute before other people start arriving. You lean close to Harry’s side and he quietly whispers information about everyone. You’re grateful that he’s keeping you in the loop, making sure you know what’s going on around you. Otherwise, you know you’d just be standing there with a polite smile and feeling so out of place.

After a quick lunch, you all make your way to one of the stages. As you walk out, Harry’s hand goes to your waist, making sure he’s always in contact with you so nothing can happen to you.

You all spend the afternoon listening to a number of performers, switching stages when necessary. There's a moment when Harry leaves to run to the bathroom and someone else in the crowd gets close to you and Mitch instinctively pulls you to his side. Sarah quickly intervenes, stepping between you two so she can hold onto you instead.

You hate not being able to be near Mitch in public. At least with Sarah people just think the two of you are besties so you can get away with holding each other, so long as it doesn’t look too romantic.

Finally it’s time to see Chappel Roan. You’ve been looking forward to this moment. She’s as great a performer as you’d heard and you have a wonderful time singing and dancing along. You'd taught the other three how to do the Hot To Go dance, and you know videos of them doing it will be posted all over social media before the day is over.

As soon as her set is finished, security guards help you get to Sabrina Carpenter’s stage. You’d missed the beginning, but have fun watching the rest. Mitch definitely notices the way to watch Sabrina, but truly you can’t help it. She’s hot, and you have eyes.

Harry suggests grabbing food and eating dinner in the van. He knows you’ll all appreciate some time to recharge and be away from other people. You sit in the back with Mitch, still keeping space in case people see in, but you do get to hold hands for a bit which fulfills your need to be close to him.

“What time is it?” You ask as everyone finishes eating.

“About 7:15,” Sarah replies.

“Can we check out Jon Batiste for a little bit?” You ask.

“Of course love. Ready to head over now?” Harry answers.

“Yup, let's get back out there!”

You miss the look the other three share. They’re so endeared by your excitement, so happy to bring you to your first festival and see you have fun. If there’s one thing they love, it’s being able to introduce you to new experiences, and they love seeing it all through your eyes.

For the next hour you all walk around the festival, peeking in on a couple different artists before finally making your way to see Ice Spice. This had been Harry’s request, and the rest of you were on board.

You’d seen a fair number of celebrities throughout the day, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what happens next. Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce enter the VIP area you’re in, and quickly make their way over.

Harry lets go of you briefly to hug Taylor and shake Travis hand.

“Taylor, this is my girlfriend, Y/N, and this is Sarah, and Mitch,” Harry says, introducing you all. You’re taken aback when Taylor pulls you in for a hug as well.

You’d been a fan of hers since you were in middle school, but you’re determined to keep your chill. You settle for a simple, “It’s so nice to meet you! I love your music.”

“Thank you so much!” She replies. “Have you made it to any of the Eras Tour shows yet?”

“No, I haven’t been able to go,” you say with a jokingly over exaggerated frown.

“Okay, well we have to fix that,” she says, and before you can process what she means, the lights go down and music begins to play.

You all focus your attention on the stage, cheering for Ice Spice as she begins her set. As everyone dances and signs along, you notice Harry being even touchier than before. You’d all had a couple drinks throughout the day, nothing too crazy but just enough that he’s definitely feeling a little loose. And he always gets extra clingy when he’s had a drink or two.

It never feels overbearing or possessive with Harry (or Mitch and Sarah for that matter). It always feels safe, secure. There’s also a sense of pride in having Harry by your side. You know there are thousands of people who’d love to be in your position, and you try to never take for granted the fact that Harry has chosen you.

The four of you dance together, laughing when you see Travis effortlessly lifting Taylor up to see over the crowd, Harry jokingly doing the same a second later. It’s a fun little group, and it’s easy to see everyone is having a great time letting loose for the night.

When Ice Spice finishes you all say goodbye to the others, Taylor taking your phone number with the promise to be in touch, which absolutely has your mind spinning.

You’re starting to get tired but you’re not ready for the night to end just yet and so you watch No Doubt followed by TheDrums. The latter band was Sarah’s find, having obviously been intrigued by the name and then fell in love with their music. It’s not what you’d normally listen to, but seeing how much she enjoys it has shifted your perspective on them.

It’s nearing midnight and Harry notices how much you’re starting to lean on him, indicating your energy is officially depleting. With a look to your security, your group starts to head back to the van.

You and Sarah once again take the back row, and you only last a few minutes into the drive before you’re sound asleep on her shoulder. When the van pulls up to your shared home, you’re woken up by the feeling of someone jostling you.

“Sorry baby, tried to carry you in without waking you but it’s an awkward angle,” Mitch says.

“That's okay,” you practically slur out, moving just enough to get out of the vehicle and into Mitch’s arms. He carries you straight to the extra large master bathroom and the four of you all get ready for bed.

Even in your drowsy state you can’t help but think about the contrasting sides of your life. Everything is always so lavish and exciting when you’re in public with your partners, but here at home it’s so calm, so domestic.

Crawling into bed surrounded by the others, you’re so grateful for every aspect of life that comes along with loving and being loved by Harry, Mitch, and Sarah.

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Thank you so much for reading! Someone else requested an angsty extra a long time ago and I could not for the life of me figure out what to do. BUT I finally got an idea so that will be coming soon!

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x reader #sarah jones x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader #harry styles fanfiction #polyamory

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probablyasocialecologist · 5 days ago

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Given the support that Roser enjoys from billionaire oligarchs at the pinnacle of the capitalist system, one wonders if it is a coincidence that so much of the data he headlines for public consumption happens to valorize that system. The chief narrative that OWID deploys is that progress is due to economic growth driven by profit-seeking private enterprise and breakneck industrial productivity. He has made this view explicit in his essays published on OWID’s website. No mention that poverty mostly has been alleviated by the power of the state regulating capital, redistributing wealth, and providing services, counter to a system of immense inequities. Roser never mentions the labor, civil rights, and anti-colonialist movements that have pressed for social welfare benefits, safety nets, legal protections and political liberation for the poor. In his superficial telling, “The history of economic growth is the history of how societies leave widespread poverty behind by finding ways to produce more of the goods and services that people need.” While in the vast piles of data at OWID you will find no mention of political movements that have bettered the human condition by challenging the supremacy of capital, you will also find nothing that reveals the complex realities of what happens when societies outside the vaunted system of economic growth are absorbed into it and made to conform to its rules.

#new optimism #our world in data #Max Roser #growth #a few issues with the 'overpopulation' argument in this essay but I'm always here for takedowns of the new optimists

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reds-writings · 1 year ago

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rust cohle headcanons pt. 2

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: some more rust thoughts for public consumption. bon appetit.

word count: 1.5k ish (she got a bit carried away oops)

warnings: lil nsfw but other than that not much (let me know if there's anything else! minors get lost!)

thinking about the fact that he didn’t really have access to television until he was 17

you get a kick out of making any pop culture references that occurred before the year 1981 because chances are they’ll go right over his head

it wouldn’t be surprising if most pop culture hubbub wasn’t in his realm of extensive knowledge given that he really only sets aside any free time he has for reading or contemplating whatever anarchic thoughts are running rampant in his head that day

you don’t find yourself in his apartment all that often given that it doesn’t exactly hold the vibe of something straight out of a home & garden catalog

he also feels something along the lines of self-consciousness when you’re exposed to the eerie emptiness of his space (the printed pictures and erratically scribbled notes/diagrams he has stuck up on his wall from active cases don’t help)

it’s not something you necessarily judge him for, it just makes you feel a twinge of sadness to see that he only allows himself the bare minimum levels of ‘comfort’ just to get by

as your relationship grows a bit more steady he finds himself at your place more than his own anyway (he tries to do most of his work at work as much as he can the longer he’s with you so things can be more effectively separated for the sake of his own consolation more than your own)

he doesn’t leave much of a trail behind himself but to the trained eye, signs of him had steadily built up over time in your home

a cheesy ‘don’t mess with texas’ mug in your cabinet you nabbed for him as a joke from an antique store in town or an old crystal ashtray set out on the front porch railing for when he needed a smoke (one by the window in your bedroom too for whenever you felt benevolent enough to let him smoke on your windowsill late at night)

there was also the growing plethora of his daily attire manifesting alongside your own clothes in your closet and dressers (find yourself wearing any of his stuff and he’s POUNCIN’)

a few scattered men’s products in the bathroom (he’s a straight razor kind of guy cause he seems like a meticulous self-groomer in that way and he has some hair products that would have Marty in a tizzy)

speaking of the straight razor, sometimes you’ll be the one to throw in the flag when he’s too busy to shave (not that any stubble on him is unsexy but the smoothly-shaven feel of his face remains superior for a number of reasons)

you’ll have him sit his butt down so you can straddle him to get rid of the culprit of the growing frictional burns on your face, neck, and thighs. a sacrifice made for the greater good.

makes for some great foreplay nearly every time (lil freaks)

there’s also an extra pack of american spirits you keep in one of your bedside drawers for whenever he runs out or forgets his own

he doesn’t ever make a big deal out of his birthday. meaning he does everything in his power to avoid acknowledging it and just goes about his day like normal. but ever since you got the date out of Marty you never let it go by without doing something to make the day special

this isn’t to say you cross any major boundaries or throw any huge celebrations he’d absolutely loathe

it meant small outings to dinner (or whatever that could get him out of the house for a bit if he wasn’t working) or little meaningful gifts waiting for him whenever you had the time to see each other if he happened to be on the job

you just wanted to imprint something about the day that didn’t leave him so passive or resentful that he lived to see another year in his life. that his existence didn’t have to mean much to anyone or himself but it absolutely meant something to you

Rust awoke in the warmth of your bed to the sight of a dreary day taking place outside. The outline of your figure on the empty half of the bed struck him only slightly suspicious. You weren’t known for being an early riser in any sense of the phrase but the smell of food drifting upstairs gave him an inclination of why you weren’t in your usual curled-up spot beside him at this hour.

Drifting his gaze slightly, the sight of a blue frosted cupcake on his side’s nightstand with a cigarette instead of a candle stuck in it as a crude joke had the corner of his mouth quirking faintly. One way or another, it was apparent you’d find a way to make the date of his birth as digestible for him as you could each year it passed. He remembered just how offended you’d gotten around the time you first got together and discovered his birthday was coming up soon while he’d had no intention of making you aware of it in the first place. Ever since then, you’d made it a sworn mission of yours to celebrate his birthday in some way shape, or form, always keeping it small with his limits in mind.

Making his descent down the stairs of your old home, he could hear the growing sounds of Fleetwood Mac paired with your soft humming. Once he finally rounded the corner to come into view of the kitchen there stood the vision of your swaying figure, drowning in some old Budweiser shirt while flipping over pancakes at the stove.

“Is that you, birthday boy?” The teasing call followed by a quick look over your shoulder had him jumping slightly out of his daze.

“You feedin’ just us or a small village out in the world somewhere?” He quipped as he took in the array of food you’d managed to prepare in the time you’d been awake.

“I was restless and didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for so I just went ahead and made a lil’ bit of everything. Whatever we don’t scarf down I can take on over to Lou’s down the road,” Was your breezy answer before you paused to point the spatula at him, “she called yesterday sayin’ she had a small somethin’ for you so when we go you’re gonna accept whatever it is with a grin and grateful attitude.”

“Lou’s one of the more tolerable people who happens to take residence in this miserable state.”

“Yeah, but you still get that constipated look on your face whenever someone else tries doing somethin’ nice for you. Thus my warning.” The look you had was more cheeky than anything as you finished up your last set of pancakes and moved them over to a bigger plate alongside the rest of the food.

“No presents this year?” He hummed as he watched you busy your way around the kitchen.

“Geez! I’ve made you greedy over the years, haven’t I? I was hopin’ to go out into town for a bit if the weather ain’t too crazy. Any presents I’ve got for you, mister, are gonna wait til’ later. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” An amused huff left his nose.

for your birthdays Marty’s the one to help Rust in planning the bigger stuff (should you want it) given that you had a bit more friends than he did who wanted nothing more than to celebrate you and have fun

you reassured him every year that you were fine with keeping it on the simple side and just spending the day with him while just chilling out (he did not listen)

he’s very much a gift giver in the sense that he’ll be out and see something random only to bring it back home and casually be like ‘thought you’d like this’ then leave it at that

you love your little collection of gifts and trinkets from the grump

even if most don’t see it in him, he’s the biggest giver you’ve ever met

he doesn’t seek any praise or reward for the silently selfless acts he finds himself committing for you and he carries them out as if they were all completely normal (he has an underlying thing for praise in the sheets though, don’t let him lie. he’ll crumble within seconds at any soft utterings of how good he is or how much you need him)

you get comfortable with ambushing him with random bursts of affection every now and then later down the line and he just sits there and takes it (mans enjoys it don’t let him lie about that either)

you’re more outwardly flirty/touchy with him in general (of course taking into account whether or not he appears to be in the mood for any of that at the given moment)

saying things like ‘there’s my dashin’ cowboy!’ or ‘the ladies of louisiana are gonna try and send me packin’ now that i’ve got you locked down!’ just to see him caught off guard

photos of him are few and far in between, let alone of you two together, but he does find himself taking more photos of just you (innocent and not so innocent)

he just wants to memorize any and all details of you! sue him!

a/n: just you wait until i start pulling out the sad old man rust fics cause i'm obsessed with that era too. ponytail defender til i die !

#reds-writings #rust cohle imagine #rust cohle x reader #true detective imagine #true detective season 1 #true detective #rust cohle #rust cohle headcanons #matthew mcconaughey

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altocat · 13 days ago

Note

Sephiroth loses memory and it's up to his friends to re-introduce him to his reality

"And this is where you keep your annoyingly organized collection of space-themed postcards," Genesis drawled, opening the desk to demonstrate. "You tend to reserve those for special occasions. The big golden one is for when that old fuck Hojo finally drops off." The silver-haired warrior loomed curiously over Genesis' shoulder, eyes wide, head slightly cocked in puzzled assessment. "And...and this is my office?" "It's where you work when you're not on missions," Angeal affirmed, still slightly awkward as he squirmed in place. "Outside of the battlefield, I mean." "Battlefield?" Sephiroth's quavering voice sounded distant, slightly higher than its usual stoic baritone. He looked between the two men, lost and confused, playing with his hands. "You...you mean there's a war, right? And I'm involved?" "Involved is a bit of an understatement," Genesis sighed. "You're their secret weapon. Their biggest hero. The Wutai War would have fallen to shit without you, much as I hate to admit it. That's what you're best at, fighting. The ads are rather distasteful, though. I don't think you'd get much out of them." "Ads?" Angeal tugged at his collar, swallowing harshly. "Ah...propaganda, really." "You're Shinra's favorite posterboy. It's been that way since 'Geal and I were kids." "They're still all over the place. Those ads, I mean. It's why we get so many incoming recruits every year. All of Midgar's walls are lined with them. Your face is pretty much around every corner." Sephiroth's expression was hard to read, staring down at the floor, his brow knit in tight concentration. He seemed to be thinking, chewing analytically on the tip of his thumb, catlike pupils rippling. He glanced up at the men again, a childish pout ever so slightly creasing against his face, snorting indignantly as he nodded. "Do I receive compensation for this breach in privacy?" "We literally just told you that you're the figurehead in a major ongoing war and THAT'S what you're concerned about?" Sephiroth only huffed, still scowling. "If I am going to be molded into a prized product for public consumption, I would appreciate a fair cut. Does SOLDIER even offer benefits? What about stock options?" Genesis groaned, rubbing between his eyes. "You must have hit your head harder than I thought."

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephcanons #crisis core #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #final fantasy vii #angeal hewley #ags

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cherrycola27 · 2 years ago

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Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

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Chapter 4: A Wedding of Presidential Proportions

You couldn't sleep when you got back to the White House. You were pacing the floor of your room, trying to fabricate a believable love story for you and Bradley.

You would say that you'd gotten close during his campaign, and he proposed the night he was elected. That would explain why he risked his life for you after the last debate and why you held the Bible and danced with him at the inauguration. That would be believable.

You also had to think of a wedding date. It would need to be soon. Now that the people knew, they would push for a wedding. You settled on October. That would give you two months to figure this out.

You'd have to tell your parents tomorrow because you knew they would have questions, but you couldn't tell them the truth.

You were furiously trying to write notes down when you realized you should probably check on Bradley. It was almost two in the morning. You hoped he was still awake.

You grabbed your robe and note cards before sneaking down the hallway. You knocked once on his door before it flew open.

"You can't sleep either?" He asked you. "No. But I've been productive. You say as you enter his room.

You spend the next twenty minutes going over the tale you have spun for the two of you. He sits silently and nods along as you pace back and forth across the carpet of his bedroom.

"So, does it sound believable?" You ask him once you finish. "It does. You've really put a lot of thought into this." He agrees with you.

"Now, for a wedding date, I was thinking October because by the time the story gets out, we will have been 'planning' one for a few months." You tell him.

"Do we really have to get married? I mean, William and Kate dated for ten years before tying the knot." Bradley points out. "Yes, but their engagement was about a year. Trust me, I've thought about dragging it out, but with the digital age we live in, it gives people too long of a chance to find out we are lying." You explain to him.

"Okay, so after we get married, how long until we can get divorced?" He asks you. You stop in your tracks. You hadn't even thought about that.

"Well—" you begin, "If we get divorced in less than two or so years, people are going to be extremely upset. It will look bad on you, and the tabloids will start fabricating stories of infidelity between us, and it would tank your chances at reelection and my chances of ever working again." You continue.

"But, if we get divorced after two years, that would be peak reelection campaign time, and again, people would be angry that their favorite first couple is breaking up and it would give your opponents fuel for a smeer campaign and probably tank your ratings and cause a scandal." You tell him. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh my god." You breathe out. "What?" Bradley asks you as he sits up from his chair.

"The only way to prevent this whole thing from killing both of our careers is to stay together and get divorced after you get reelected or lose the 2028 election. It would be at least four years of marriage. Four years of a lie." You state.

You can feel the heat rising in your chest as the anxiety sets it. You being to pace faster around his room. Your eyes are wide with a far off look in them.

"Oh my god, we can't do this. We can't commit to this for FOUR YEARS Bradley. What was I thinking when I said that? I'll tell you what—I wasn't thinking. I didn't want the media to brand me as someone who slept her way to the top, but now I've sentenced both of us to a life of scrutiny in the public eye!" You shout at him.

"We can't do this. I was wrong about everything I said. I didn't have a plan, I wasn't thinking I just did, and now I've screwed everything up." Your voice starts to tremble. Your chest tightens, making it harder for you to breathe. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

Bradley can see the cracks in your armor starting to break. The facade that you wear so well is slipping. His heart breaks when he sees the first tears slip down your cheeks. He's never seen you cry before. Come to think of it, he's never seen you as anything other than put together. He's shocked to see you like this. Emotional, vulnerable, raw.

"Where's my phone? I have to call Jaycee. I have to have her publish a story saying that I was lying and that we aren't a couple." You choke out. Your hands are trembling as you try to unlock your phone, but it's no use. The device falls from your fingers and crashes to the carpet.

That's all that it takes for you to fall to your knees and sob. Rooster immediately jumps from his seat and pulls you close to him. You're babbling about how you're sorry to him and about how you can save his career by tanking your own.

It's killing him inside to see you like this. To know that he's the reason you're having a panic attack at three in the morning. He doesn't know how to respond. Normally, you're the one picking up the pieces for him. So he does the only thing his can think to do. He sinks down on the floor next to you and pulls you close to him. He tucks you under his chin and rubs your back to soothe you.

"Y/N. Y/N—please, take a breath. Look at me." Bradley tells you softly. He takes your chin and gently directs it to meet his eyes.

"Let's take a couple of deep breaths together. Come on, breathe with me. Breathe in—and breathe out." He directs you. He repeats this several more times until your breathing is back under control, and you aren't crying anymore.

"Okay, let's talk through this slowly. We have two options. We can get married, spend the four years together, and then get a quick and amicable divorce after the election. If we do that, we both have a good chance of being able to continue our political careers, right?" He looks to you for your approval. You nod your head.

"Or, you commit political suicide by saying what? You made up the whole thing because you didn't want the media slandering you?" He asks. "It seems like they would slander you even more if you said we lied." He tells you.

"I can tell them that I can onto you, I was harassing you. Trying to blackmail you or something. If I did that, it would save your image. I could never work in politics again, though. I'd have to leave D.C." You stutter out, the anxiety still not fully gone from your body.

The thought of you leaving made Bradley sick to his stomach. He couldn't let you give up your dream for him.

"No." He says. "I won't let you do that. I can't let you do that. I wouldn't be in this position of power if it wasn't for you. I can't do this without you. I need you." He tells you earnestly.

"We are already friends. We can do this. We'd only have to pretend for the cameras and in the public eye. Behind closed doors, it doesn't matter. We can fake it til we make it." He laughs.

"You sure?" You ask him. "Positive." He confirms. You nod your head and smile at him. He helps you up. You take a deep breath and feel some relief.

You pause for a beat, and Bradley can see the exact moment you put your mask back on. Gone is the vulnerability you'd just shared with him, and back was the bravado he'd seen you wear so well.

"You know you'll have to make sure any hookup you bring here signs and NDA, right?" You ask him.

"Come again?" He blurts out with a look of confusion. The sudden change in your demeanor has his head spinning.

"Look, Bradley, even if we have to be married for a bit, I don't expect you to be celibate the entire time. You won't be the first president to have a mistress, but you'll be the first with permission. You snicker at the last part.

"I mean I'll do the same." You reassure him.

Bradley is too stunned to speak. The idea of either of you having a lover made his heart ache. He couldn't stomach the thought of another man touching you or getting to see the side of you that you kept closed off from him.

"Yeah, I understand." He hesitated. The silence around the two of you was uncomfortable.

"Right. So, I'm going to call a jeweler in the morning so we can pick out a ring and make sure you memorize these cards." You tell him as you hand him some flash cards, breaking the tension.

"I have the ring covered." Bradley tells you. "What?" You ask him. Unsure if you heard him correctly. "I have the ring covered. I'll memorize the cards. For now, we both need to get some sleep." He rubs your arms in a reassuring way.

"Okay. You're right. Goodnight, Bradley." You tell him as you leave his room. "Goodnight, Mrs. Bradshaw" He calls down the hallway after you. You roll your eyes and try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

The next day around lunch, Jake storms into your room. "Wise-woman! Girl, what the fuck?!" He asks you.

"Jake, I don't have time for this. I was in a life or death situation. It was either fake engagement or political ruin. I did what I had to do." You explain to him. "I know, I know. Rooster already gave me the same speech. So you're really going to do this interview. Get married and all that jazz?" Jake asks as he comes to sit with you.

He flops down on the couch in your sitting room while absent-mindedly tossing a baseball in the air.

"Yeah, it's not ideal, but it keeps all of us employed. Well, let me rephrase that. It keeps you and Bradley employed. Meanwhile, I get to be paraded around as a piece of arm candy, and the only thing people are going to care about is what time wearing." You sigh.

"You know there are way worse things than being the First Lady of the United States. You think that no one is going to care about what you have to say, but Bradley will. He values your opinion more than any of his advisors. And you could have a serious social impact. Doesn't every First Lady have a platform that she focuses on during her time? Think of the change you could make. The good you could do in the world." Jake tells you. You hadn't really thought about it that way.

"Plus, do you know how many women in America would gladly take your place? I do, because I've seen the tweets and the tiktoks. Marrying Bradley isn't the prison sentence you're making it out to be." Jake finishes his pep talk to you before silently tossing his ball some more.

You sit there, taking in his words and processing them.

Neither of you is sure what to say until Jake speaks again. "So, on another note, your friend at the Post who's interviewing you—is she single by chance?" Jake asks you.

You laugh at his comment. Of course, he would ask you about Jaycee when you're having a crisis moment.

"Jake! You're such an asshole!" You laugh as you throw a pillow from the couch at him.

"Knock knock." Bradley comes in. "And that's my cue to go." Jake says as he gets up to leave.

Bradley comes and sits down next to you. He puts a small box on the table in front of you. "Go on. Open it." He tells you.

You open it, and your breath catches in your throat. Inside is the most beautiful ring you've ever seen. It's an oval cut diamond, easily five karats or better. It's flanked by two pear cut amethysts and set on a silver band.

"Bradley how—" you ask him. "Called in a favor." He tells you. You stare at it a moment before he takes it out of the box and slips it on your hand. "Size eight. Just like you said." He smiles at you. "Oval because of the Oval Office, right?" You joke with him. "Exactly." He breathes out.

"So, are you ready for this interview?" You ask him. "If I'm being honest, no. But I know that just like everything else, we can get through it together." Bradley kisses your cheek and pats your leg before getting up to leave. The skin where his lips touched buzzes with a familiar feeling that you're desperately trying to push back down.

Thanks to your careful planning, you made it through the interview with Jaycee. By the time you and Bradley arrived back to the White House, you were trending on social media, and #Wiseshaw was going viral. You had succeeded in pacifying the nation for a while.

Now, the real challenge began: planning a wedding.

..................

"Does it really matter so much about the flowers!" You groaned into the sofa cushion. The wedding was a week away, and instead, if sitting in on interviews for who was going to take over your position once you became the First Lady, you were with Jake and Jaycee picking out center pieces.

You had hated all of the aspects of planning the wedding. You hated them because over the past two months, you'd found yourself unable to deny the fact that you had feelings for Bradley. He truly was the man of your dreams, but the only reason you were able to have him was because of a lie.

Magazines, news outlets, and social media called you the perfect political power couple. The people ate up the engagement shoot you'd released, and the buzz of your upcoming nuptials was all anyone could talk about. People were rabid wondering what your dress was going to look like, who would be on the guest list, and most importantly, people wondered how long it would be until the two of you had children.

Of course, there was speculation that you were already pregnant due to how fast you were getting married from the time you announced your engagement. If only the people knew that your husband would never touch you like that.

You were broken from your thoughts by Jake.

"Yes, it really does matter, Wise- woman. You and the president are getting married. This is the closest thing America is ever going to get to a royal wedding." You looked at Jaycee and rolled your eyes because you knew Jake was right. This would be the first time a president had gotten married in office in over a hundred years. In the minds of many, this was a royal wedding. The two of you were the American Will and Kate.

"Jakey is just trying to be helpful as the best man and all." Jaycee tells you as she gets up to wrap her arms around him.

"If you two could keep it in your pants while I'm here, I would appreciate it." You tell them. You shuttered at the memory of finding out they were seeing each other. You had gone to Jake's office to ask him to sign off on some things, and instead, you found him and Jaycee, using his desk for purposes that it was not intended for.

"Oh c'mon, don't be such a grumpy gills. You'll be getting your taste of a man in power soon enough." Jaycee laughs.

"No, I will not. This marriage is a business arrangement. I'm not going to sleep with Bradley. I'm not even going to move out of my room." You tell them. You get up to leave as Jake and Jaycee shoot each other a knowing look.

.......................

Saturday comes quicker than you expected. All morning, people are fussing over you and helping you get ready. Jaycee is doing her best to keep you calm. You aren't nervous because you are getting married. You're nervous because your life is about to change.

You wonder if Bradley has the same knots in his stomach or if he is calm and collected.

The funny thing is, as he's getting ready, Bradley wonders the same thing about you.

He's paced around his room about five hundred times since he woke up this morning. You had no clue that Jake and Bradley's godfather Maverick had been trying to keep him calm.

He knows it's just about time, and his hands shake as he tries to tie his bow tie. You always make it look so easy. He growls in frustration before Maverick takes over. "The last time I saw a Bradshaw, this nervous was when Goose was getting ready to marry your mom. He was awful with ties, too." Maverick smiles at him, trying ease the tension. "They'd be so proud of you, kid." Maverick smiles as he smooths out Bradley's collar.

Soon, the wedding coordinator is coming to get them. It was time.

The wedding is to be held in the Rose Garden with a reception to follow in the banquet room of the White House. Everything is perfect. The chairs, the flowers, the table settings, the center pieces, the decor. All of it is fit for a wedding of presidential proportions. You'd spent two months going over seating charts, menu options, and cake flavors. Every time you asked Bradley what he wanted, he always responded with, "Whatever you want dear." You roll your eyes at the memory. Of course, he would be better in a fake relationship than any of your previous real ones.

As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, the thought of running crosses your mind.

You don't have time to ponder it though. It's almost show time. Your mother and Jaycee help you into your dress. It's a soft taffeta ball gown with ruching on the bodice. Its sleeves are slightly off the shoulder, and it has a jeweled belt at the waist. You could describe your dress best as "a modern take on Jackie Kennedy." Your mother helped you secure your cathedral length veil in your hair. She brushed a few stray hairs from your face before making sure your oval pendant was centered on your neck. Jaycee handed you your bouquet of lavender roses before grabbing the train of your dress and veil to help you out of your room.

Your father smiled when he saw you. Both of your parents were so proud of you. Their daughter was about to be the First Lady.

You took a deep breath as you walked out of french doors to the top of the staircase.

Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest as your feet carried you down the steps. It felt like you were in autopilot.

The violin quartet began to play "august" as Maverick walked down the aisle, holding framed photos of his parents before sitting them in two reserved seats. Jake followed him with your mother before coming back. Several of his former Navy friends escorted your bridesmaids down the aisle. Then, Jaycee and Jake made their way down the aisle. As the song looped, you could help think about the irony of it all. The man that you were about to marry would never be yours, not really.

Soon, it was your turn. You smiled as you heard the first bars of "Wildest Dreams" start to play. If it was one thing Bradley knew about you, it was how much you loved Taylor Swift. It only seemed fitting that he would pick two of her songs for your wedding.

Damn him and his ability to give you butterflies. It wasn't fair.

Everything moved in slow motion. The walk down the stair case and down the aisle felt like the longest ten minutes of your life. You did your best to look the part of the perfect blushing bride, but it was so hard.

Looking out at the perfectly place chairs with their perfectly draped cloth covers and perfectly tied lavender bows made you feel sick.

The sight of the wooden pergola draped in in greens and tulle made your knees weak. The meticulous rolled out white cloth that was covered in dainty lavender flower petals for the aisle had the bile in your stomach rising to your throat.

Everything was so perfect. Or at least it would have been if this was real. Your father could feel you tense up as you reached the bottom of the stair case and turned to stand at the end of the aisle. He patted your hand to comfort you. Everyone rose up from their seats, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to look up and look at Bradley. He was standing at the top of the aisle beaming at you. Suddenly, all of the anxiety you were feeling melted away. A genuine smile crossed your face as you began to almost float towards him.

You watched him brush a few stray tears from his eyes.

Your eyes stayed trained on Bradley the whole time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was actually in love with you.

"You look beautiful." He whispered to you as you joined him at the altar. "Your tie's crooked." You whisper back. "Sorry, I didn't have help." He chuckled before the officiant asked everyone to be seated.

The ceremony goes by in a flash. You and Bradley exchanged vows and rings. And soon you heard the officiant say, "Mr. President, you may kiss your bride."

You lean forward to press a polite kiss to Bradley's lips, but in an unexpected turn of events, he sweeps you into his arms and dips you before kissing you. Everyone erupts in applause. The officiant speaks once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you, for the first time, President and Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw!"

Bradley grabs your hand as Jaycee hands you your bouquet before you walk back down the aisle under a sea of flower petals.

During the entire reception, Bradley doesn't leave your side as the two of you mingle. You have your first dance as husband and wife to a slowed down version of "I've Had The Time of My Laugh. You grin at his nod to the first time you danced with him. After you finish, its time to cut the cake. You enjoyed smashing some of it in his face more than you should have. Your smile never leaves your face. You can't believe how easy it is to pretend to be in love with him.

But that's all it is, pretend. You've signed yourself up to continue this charade with him for the next four years.

After the reception, you change into a white lace tea length dress. You and Bradley board Air Force one. You have three days for a private honeymoon. Bradley releases his duties to Jake for the time being before you leave.

Soon, you're touching down somewhere tropical.

You're exhausted by the time you make it there.

The two of you get settled into your bungalow. All you want to do is change and get some sleep.

"Can you unzip me? I want to take a shower. There's two bathrooms here if you want to shower too." You inform Bradley. He's happy to help. He unzips your dress. He sees the white lace of the bra and panties you are wearing.

"Thanks." You tell him before trapsing off to a shower.

Bradley groans and adjusts himself before heading off to the other bathroom. God, his right hand is going to be tired after this trip.

After an hour in the bathroom, you finally come out. You find Bradley sitting in a chair watching TV.

"You aren't in bed yet?" You question him.

"I wasn't sure which side you slept on, and I didn't want to assume." He says as he gets up and gestures to the huge bed in the middle of the room.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm not sleeping in here." You laugh. He looks at you confused before you go to the other side of the room and on unlatch a door he hadn't noticed before.

"Did you really think I wouldn't plan a head to make sure we had two rooms?" You ask him.

"I—I shouldn't have doubted your abilities." He tells you, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"It's fine. Look, we've had a long day. We'll talk more in the morning." You smile and kiss his cheek before walking into your room. "Goodnight, Mr. President." You call to him.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Bradshaw." He calls back.

He hears the sound of the lock on the door clicking. He sighs before dropping back into the armchair. He runs his fingers through his hair before taking a look at the silver band that now adorns his finger. He twists it a few times and sighs.

How was he going to get through the next four years of this?

Little did he know that just on the other side of the door, you were dying inside too.

A special shoutout to @thedroneranger for beta reading this chapter and listening to my rambles!

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