#but its hard to fall in love with it when it keeps interrupting all the stuff i like to sexualize mathilda its DISGUSTING. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kettl-ecorn · 2 years ago

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o̶f̶f̶ ̶l̶i̶m̶i̶t̶s̶ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ

! part one !

! part two !

a/n: so sorry this took so long, but i hope you enjoy it ♡ thanks so much for the love on the other parts, it really means a lot

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warnings: 18+, MDNI. afab!reader, rick sanchez x reader, smut, major dubcon vibes, fingering (f! receiving), oral (m! receiving), a little bit of knife play, unprotected p in v, some light choking, praise, orgasm denial, degradation, dumbification, dom!rick, perv!rick, naive!reader, lots and lots of dirty talk just for you

it was supposed to be a quick errand when he ran into you, interrupting an evening alone to yourself. it had been a year since you had your one night stand with Rick, and although you couldn't stop thinking about it, you didn't think you'd ever see him again. but here he is, standing in your bedroom like nothing ever happened.

you didn't know, however, that this isn't your Rick. but that didn't matter.

off limits part three | 5.1 k words

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despite Rick’s tight grip on your jaw and his weight against your lungs, you fall asleep. pass out, more like, Rick’s hold just close enough to a hug that your body relaxes slightly- you let out a soft sigh and your eyes flutter closed. when an annoyed “hellooo” and shake of your head didn’t wake you, Rick shifted up and off the bed, returning to the position he was in when he ruthlessly got what he wanted.

he admits… he did go a little overkill. something about the desperate look in your eyes, blurry and shiny with tears as you squirmed in his arms had sent shocks down his spine. he intended to go easy on you, he really did… but the way your tight, wet walls gripped his mechanical digits as they forced you open drove him fucking insane. couldn’t get the thought of how it would feel on his cock out of his head as you cried his name.

he thought about it again now, staring at your bare thighs and palming the hard outline in his pants. he stares for a while, actually, eyes tracing up and down your body as you dream. he thinks about how easy it would be to just take you now, imagining you waking up to his cock bottoming out excited him to no end- but he hesitated.

not because of the threat of your Rick. he wasn’t worried about him at all- despite his little knowledge of him. it was a feeling low in his gut that he first noticed when he had slinked his hand around your throat and you relaxed, like you were waiting for him. it took him by surprise and it softened him up just enough.. and it pissed him off. he wondered if the other Rick had fallen for it too, deciding you’d be a good one to keep around.

but what was it? what made you so fucking special?

Rick was going to find out.

he let you sleep, for now; you’d be no use to him in your post-orgasm clarity. you were drunk on arousal the minute he stepped into the room- who knows how you’ll be now that everything’s passed? so he resigns to the dull ache in his balls and turns to rummage through all your shit instead.

he starts at what’s nearest to him: your little wooden night stand. he pulls out the drawers, shifting through the random clutter until his hand brushes by something that feels familiar. he pulls out the skinny orange medicine bottle and reads the label, finding your name and the prescription and he immediately recognizes the antidepressants. his eyes keep looking back to your name and he reads it, over and over, searching his own mind for a version of you he might’ve met, but there’s nothing. when he first saw your face, there was an inkling of recognition, but he couldn’t place it.

he pushed the first drawer closed and opened the one underneath it and his eyes instantly landed on your pretty purple 6” rubber dildo. he grins wildly at the sight of it, quickly bringing it up to get a better look. “aww, i see,” he said quietly to himself as he ran his fingers along its cold shaft, “no wonder you always need more.” after putting it back and closing up the small table he turned his attention to the other side of the room, his eyes catching on your closet. with the doors slightly parted, he just had to slide the doors the rest of the way, now standing arms stretched in front of your wardrobe.

since all he’s seen you in so far is an old oversized t shirt, he didn’t know what to expect. you wore a little bit of everything, it looked like- everything was organized by color, he noticed, sliding his hands along the edges of the different fabric, pulling something if it popped out to him. it was almost like he was shopping straight from your closet- and if we’re honest, he wouldn’t put it past him. everything seemed so cute but also you, including the couple sundresses he found in the back towards the darks, a very nice surprise. he notices a collared white shirt among your lights, and he goes to pull it.

it was a fucking Shoney’s uniform. Rick had to contain his laughter, of fucking course. like that was the key, he remembered you now, the way your hips swang as you walked by him, the way you rubbed the sweat off your brow on a busy shift, your eager, chirping voice as you sweetly milked your customers for their tips. he doesn’t remember a specific time you ever interacted, but he supposes your Rick did- you must’ve been his waiter or host, and you just so happened to be the perfect candidate.

he took his time exploring your personal spaces. he went from room to room, opening closets and boxes, searching through everything personal to you. he even had his way in your bathroom- looking through your cabinets and then your shower. he grabs and smells your shampoo, and his frustrated dick twitches as he takes in the smell of you.

some odd minutes later, after he’s found himself in your kitchen, successfully having found your alcohol cabinet, he leans against the counter, cradling the cheap vodka that you had bought yourself just the night before. he gripped the neck of the bottle with one hand as he held the journal he found with the other, fingering the binding as he read.

and oh sweetheart, was it juicy. it was everything he needed to know and more. about how you met Rick, how absolutely smitten you were, thinking he was so smart and pretty; you went into detail about his hair, the way it shined under the bar light, and his big beautiful eyes- even as glazed over they get when he’s drunk, they felt like deep, rippling pools you could swim in for hours. you didn’t go into much detail about the sex itself, but you sure went on about how it made you feel. how deep he went, how he pumped his cum inside you, and how unhinged you became. even had a paragraph dedicated to his dirty talk and how it made you discover more things about yourself and the things you like.

he had started to read from the beginning, the first entry dated as a few years ago, but when he got to this part, he looked at the date. a literal year ago, down to the month, from tonight. and as he read further up to present day, he found his name sprinkled throughout in passages about your failing dating life and how you couldn’t ever feel satisfied.

“hmm,” he mumbled curiously, setting the book down. he reached into his coat to pull out the pallasite he had retreived from you, holding the vial that contained it up to his eyes. he squinted, analizying the color and shapes within the rock. he sets it down and holds his wrist out to it, and a thin green hologramed line stretched forward, scanning over the vial. the contents of the space rock displayed out in front of him and he read over them carefully until his eyes landed on what he’s looking for.

not only was this specific pallasite an excellent component for harvesting energy- it was a fucking aphrodisiac.

the way it imbedded in you caused for it to act like some sort of love potion. no fucking wonder, he thought. you fantasized about him every night because you were being chemically altered to do so. the feelings probably weren’t as strong now, he assumed, it would have been at its strongest during the first few months, but it all started to make sense now.

he took another big swig, efficiently finishing the bottle, before sloppily putting it back on the counter. he felt almost jealous, knowing this Rick was somewhere getting off to the thought of you, craving and needing him, with no way to reach him or any idea of where he is. he must have the intention to come back eventually, especially since his little coin purse was literally obsessed with him.

Rick pocketed the pretty crystal and turned with a smirk, starting to head back towards your bedroom, because why not? you were so good for him before, he might as well give you what you want- what you need- after you’ve waited all this time. all while also getting his dick wet in the process.

but his face dropped as soon as he looked up and saw you.

you looked wild. hair a mess, shirt still drenched in sweat. you had put on some little pink shorts, he noticed, and he wondered how long you’ve really been up. you were staring at him with eyes as big as you could get them, considering the sleep and tears, looking fearful but determined. Rick could see you hiding something, slyly holding it behind your leg to keep out of sight. he smirked.

when you had woken up, confused and dizzy as the events of the night came back to you, you thought that maybe he had left. it was quiet as you slid yourself off the bed, wincing when you began to feel the dull ache he had left inside you. the majority of the pain had already passed but the feeling was there, the feeling of being used. you felt sick as you remembered how desperate you were for him, still so in love with a memory that you’d allow him to handle you like that. a stranger broke into your home, claimed to have needed to finger you till you felt like you’d burst, and then just left, and you let him. you’ve practically begged him for more.

flushed with embarrassment and anger, you throw on the closest shorts you can find and begin your way to the bathroom, determined to wash away the regret, when you hear a noise from the kitchen.

it was quiet but you could hear the faint noises of glass clinking together. you freeze, not knowing to run or hide. why was he still here? your heart races as you flash through different scenarios in your mind of how to avoid him, how to convince him to spare you, or.. how to kill him first before he kills you.

you knew you weren’t much of a match but snuck back to your room anyway, finding the pocket knife an ex boyfriend had given you “for protection”. you’ve never actually handled it until now, awkwardly pulling the blade out and feeling the weight of it in your hand as you test different grips. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you wouldn’t go down without fighting.

that’s how you ended up here, standing in front of him with the weapon behind your back, waiting for him to make the wrong move. but instead, he smirks, looking you up and down, taking you all in. seeing him in the better light of the kitchen made everything worse for you; he was so fucking handsome, just as he was the night you met him.

maybe a bit skinnier, you thought- his jaw line looked much sharper as he bit down, staring back at you. your eyes trailed down his chest, searching his criminally hidden frame under the dirty lab coat. you could see the utility belt slung around his slim, bony waist, but couldn’t make anything out. you swallowed as you blinked and looked back up to his eyes.

Rick waited a second, allowing you time to speak, but you couldn’t. get the fuck out, you wanted to say, don’t fuck with me, this shit is over. but instead you just stood there, flustered and on-edge.

“well, goodmorning. ‘bout fuckin time, heh, i- your taste in bo-ooze is terrible,” he slurred, gesturing towards your cabinet, “had me- was waiting too long, had to drink your shitty vodka.”

you open your mouth to respond, but he continues,

“but guess it all evens out though, right? after being so mean,” he said through a grin, taking a step closer. you remain still, frozen in the wash of adrenaline. “you-.. you’re good, yeah? pretty little cunt tighten back up?”

“Rick,” you seethe through gritted teeth.

“learned a-a lot about you, y/n, hah,- got a lot of secrets, don’t you?” you shook your head, eyes still locked on his. “n-no,” you respond quickly, tripping on your tongue.

“no? does daddy know about the- your little purple dick you keep by your pillow every night? that his- his beautiful baby girl is letting strangers fill her up with cum?” the distance closes between you quickly, his mouth now hovering above your ear as he bends down to you, “that she’s been dreaming about fucking an old man every night.” you snap your head up to meet him, lips dangerously close now. your face feels red hot as you struggle to keep your composure, “you.. you read-”

“your little diary? haha, yes, i-i read it.” he lazily motions towards it and you see it splayed wide open, to your horror, “‘s not my fault you leave it in such an obvious place-”

“it was in a locked drawer, by my computer-”

“like i said,” he smirked, “obvious.” he slinked his arm around your waist, teasing your skin as his fingers went past, and the soft touch took you by surprise. so much so you panic, feeling claustrophobic in his hold and you swing your small blade up and out from behind you, but before it can get anywhere far, your wrist is jailed in his fingers. you gasp and instinctively use your other hand to push against him before he has that one too, and now you’re helpless.

you struggle against him with all the power you could muster as he swiftly turns you, spinning you around and pushing you over to the nearest counter. your stomach lands on the hard edge of the granite with an oof and before you could react he’s behind you, pushing all his weight against you, effectively pinning you still. you whine against the pressure, feeling your chest get tighter with the lack of air. “Wait,” you plead frantically.

“wow, never thought you were smart, but-” he rips the knife out of your hand and you cry out, “i-huh, didn’t know you were a fucking idiot.”

you felt him trail the knife up your leg, the tip of the blade cold against your skin as it dragged up. you shivered at the contact and tears filled your eyes as you gripped the edge. “Rick, please, i’m sorry,” you whimper, feeling the blade get higher and higher before softly sliding in between the shorts and your skin, sneaking it’s way lower until the blade was wider than the crotch, then cutting the material right off.

you gasp and jump, causing a chuckle to bubble out of his throat. his breath was hot on your neck as he used his free hand to rub you everywhere, viciously grabbing at your legs, hips and chest, slipping under your shirt to grope your tits as you shivered underneath him. as scared as you were, your body couldn’t help but react; your body heat rising as the knife switched hands before he quickly returned to your cunt. with no other garments to cover you- you opted out of a pair of underwear, thinking he was gone anyway- his fingers were quick to slide through your slick folds. he audibly moans at your wetness, you tremble and throw your head back at the touch, and Rick’s mouth is quick to ghost over your neck.

“so fucking wet, huh? you fuc- you fucking like this, don’t you?” he asks, bringing the knife up to your throat. sobs escape you as you pull your head back as far as it could go in a desperate attempt to get away from the blade. “no… Rick, please.” he shoves his foot in between yours to kick them apart, having you spread wide for him. his fingers start picking up the pace, going back and forth between your slippery hole and your clit, taking his time on the little nub, circling and occasionally pulling on it with his middle and thumb.

the touch was overwhelming. you feel yourself giving in to him, the back of your neck locked onto his shoulder as you cry out to the heavens. your legs start to shake and you worry they’re about to give out, so you lean into him further, causing him to move his hand around to rub your wet pussy from the front. his head buried in the nape of your neck for a moment, taking a big, exaggerated snnniiffff before sighing,

“poor girl, so fucking scared and dripping for me. We-heh,- you could’ve been good for me, could’ve played nice. but since you wanted to be brave,” his middle finger pushes in, despite your sharp, pained gasp, “i gotta- need to teach you to be good, right? teach you to be polite.” he finds a rhythm, slow and consistent, until you start moaning and squeezing him. the pain now being replaced by building pleasure, you buck your hips towards him, unashamedly chasing your high. he’s added a second finger, now perfectly hitting your songey center with every thrust, using his thumb to sloppily rub at your clit, and your vision blurs.

“Rick, i-“

“if you cum without permission, i will slit your throat and watch you bleed all over this fucking floor,” he growls, and the coil in you grows tight.

“please, please Rick-“

“please what? use your words, baby,”

you still your movements in an attempt to slow it down, but Rick’s pace has you desperately reaching out and grabbing the counter, screaming as your vision goes white-

“ohfuck, please let me cum, fuck Rick, pleeeeaasssee,”

“good girl, let me hear those pretty noises.”

your legs give out from underneath you as you hit your peak, his name pouring out of your mouth as he continues his pace while holding you up. you twitch and jump away from him as he continues to fuck you open, but he holds you still, leaning forward to pin you against the cold surface. your mouth hangs open, releasing little aahs and ffucks until your head hits the granite. your breath hitches as you come down, exhales turning back into moans when he doesn’t stop.

once you had obeyed, he had discarded the knife- so he takes this time to slide his arm around your chest, taking your neck and bringing it up to bite it, rude with his teeth but gentle with his lips when he goes back to lick and suck at the skin. the air hitting his saliva sent chills down your spine, and you arch your back, reaching up to touch him, touch his hair, something,

“no, don’t- you don’t touch me unless i tell you to. you understand? y-you can remember that, right?” his fingers slow, giving you a chance to respond. instead you whine at the change of pace, bucking your hips desperately to get him to keep going. you had reluctantly brought your hands back down to the counter, turning into fists as you’re denied of pleasure.

he quickly removes his digits to deliver a hard slap to your ass, your skin welting up immediately. you yelp and almost jump up on the tile, desperate to get away as he lands another one, skin now hot to the touch. the hand on your throat moving up to cover your mouth, he brings your ear to his lips, taking his time to lick up the length of it and bring your earlobe in his teeth. you vibrate his hand with moans; he’s not sure if they’re of pleasure or pain but he doesn’t necessarily care. “right?”

he moves his mouth to let you speak and you do, apologetic and frantic as your eyes prickle with tears, “yes! ah-, r-right,”

Rick watches as your hips fall back to his, your ass grinding against him. his digits had found their way back to your poor clit, pressing and rubbing over it, using his free fingers to spread your shiny lips open. he could see your hands jerking nervously, not knowing what to do and resolving to digging nails into each other.

“look at you, fuck-, poor baby, you wanna touch me that bad, hmm? he-hh, need to feel me, don’t you?”

“yes, Rick,” you breathe, words getting harder now that you see your next peak. it felt so good but you need more to get you there, “please please please,”

he laughs as he pulls his hands away completely, hearing your protests as your tears begin to fall; your bottom lip beginning to bruise as you bite down, he spins you to face him, the hands on your shoulders firm but gentle.

“kneel.”

you don’t hesitate. you lower to your knees, eyes locked on his as they follow you down. when your bone hits the cold tile, a little gasp escapes you and you avert your gaze. So fucking precious, it brings a smile to his face. he brings his hand up to hold your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger, and brings it back up to him.

“s-..so good for me. you’re learning, baby,” his free hand goes to his belt, tugging to pull it open to scramble at his zipper, “i’m going- i’m gonna be nice, gonna give you what you want. you’re going to be grateful,” he moans, finally freeing his cock and holding it at the base. your eyes fly to it, taking in its size and you groan silently. it’s so much bigger than you remember, and you couldn’t imagine it in your mouth let alone in your sore flesh. “you need this dick,” he pressed the dripping tip to your lips, “i’m going to give it to you.”

its too big, way too big, you open your mouth to explain. he had to understand, you wanted this but there’s just no way-

he used this as his literal opening, pushing the head of his cock past your lips, holding your head in place as you struggled against his girth. tears streaming down your face now, he wipes them away with his thumbs before bringing them up to taste your tears. you whine as he pushes farther- you try your best to adjust to him, flattening your tongue and relaxing as your jaw opens wider.

“very good, ffuck,” he growls, forcing his hips to stay still to let you take your time, “mouth feels sso good, sweetheart, hehh- i- look at me, hey,” you blink up to obey, his eyes blown out with lust when he sees the mess he’s made you- face red and swollen as you fought to keep yourself from gagging, wet and shiny with tears. “so pretty,” he cooed through his teeth, “look at me while i fuck your mouth,”

he pulls himself out, spit trailing from your lips, and you have just enough time for a big breath before he’s pushing in again, coming back out then going further, steadily fucking your mouth with ferver. you gag on his size, struggling to breathe as he’s going faster, getting more aggressive, moaning and grunting when he leans over to rest an arm on the counter- pushing you back and pinning you against the harsh wood, cabinet handles digging into your back. your worried cries vibrate through his shaft and he growls, using the makeshift wall to keep you still he puts both hands on the granite now, jerking his hips against your mouth as you take him all in. through your struggle, you’re still looking at him.

“s-so fucking obidient. you’ve been waiting for this, huh? been waiting for my big cock, ahh, that’s it baby-”

with one more final, deep thrust he pulls out, leaving you gasping and falling forward, hands landing between his boots. although your lungs are relieved, you look back up at him, wondering why the abrupt stop. he was getting close, you could tell by the way he twitched on your tongue- and you were ready to take it all, was excited for it, even. “Rick? i-”

“get up,” his arms slink under yours to help pull you up, “turn around, bend over.” you wonder why he gives you direction when he just manhandles you, putting you exactly where he wants you. he takes no time to line himself up with your hot opening, already clenching down just begging for him.

he drags his hot shaft along your slit, coating it with your slick. “fuck, please,” you beg.

“you- hah, uhh- you ready? have to tell me you want it, baby, i- need to know you missed me, tell me,”

“fuck me, please Rick, missed it- need you so much, fuck-”

he obliged, sinking his cock in your hot cunt until it completely bottomed out. your tongue fell out of your mouth as you huffed and cried, the stretch too much but so good.

he slowly dragged it out and then in again, working you open, picking up a pace as he breathed heavy in your ear. you hadn’t noticed he reached his arm around until his finger was on your clit, swirling it in circles over and over, being sure to hit the side that made you jerk a little more often- your toes curl and you make filthiest sounds.

“so fucking tight, fucking milking me baby, ‘s like it’s made for me,” he grunts with his thrusts, keeping your waist tight against the hard counter, “such a-fuck, such a dirty slut, can’t think of anything except this cock,”

he picks up speed and you’re writhing beneath him, completely fucked out and drooling- he sees this when your head leans back and your eyes roll, babbling his name around the pooling saliva. the fingers on your throbbing button haven’t skipped a beat, aiding the building pressure in your core. his right hand pulls on your body and you go with him as he takes a step back. he pushes on your back to get you lower and he shifts his hips, and all of a sudden he’s right there, bumping at your spongey core and you lose it.

“Rick, fuck, i’m-ahhhh, so fucking good,”

“mmm, gonna cum- gonna fuckin soak me, baby? gonna be a good girl and ask?”

your mind was going blank. it was all too much, and there was no time to ask, “Rickk, uhh- i’mgonnacum i’mgonnacum-”

and in seconds he was out of you, hands even leaving your waist, leaving you so suddenly empty your knees buckle as you sob, “NO, wait, i’m s-sorry, i- fuck, please let me cum, Rick, i’m sorry,”

“getting cocky, sweetheart, think you got some fuckin- some magic pussy, getting whatever it wants?”

“no,” you reply weakly.

“no, that’s right. you have no idea what i could do to you, princess, fuck-” he lined himself back up but eased himself in painfully slow, still giving you a punishment, “so you do what i say, right? haheh- you’re cunt’s fuckin’ squeezing me,”

you sigh in relief as he fills you once more, feeling yourself squeeze him as he hits your center. he starts his rhythm, no fingers to aide you now as he grips all ten into your soft flesh, pulling on your hips as he fucks you on his dick. you gave into his control, allowing yourself to be thrown around as he chases his own high-

“you belong to me, you get that?” the slapping of his thighs against your ass almost drowning out his low voice, “i’m- ‘m going to fill you with my cum, and you’re gonna take it, you hear me?”

“yeesssssss,” your moans all drawn out as the coil tightens. you’ve lost track of the amount of orgasms but this next one was coming fast, the waves crashing in your stomach much more intense after being denied once. “i’m close, fuck, please let me cum, i wanna be good for you,”

it took all he could from busting right then and there, hearing you submit to him like that. he gives you a simple cum for me but it’s enough, quickly sending you over the edge. your legs struggle to keep you up as black spots cloud your vision, your mouth rambling profanities and thank yous as you fight to come down, wave after wave of pleasure hitting you as he continues to fuck you through it.

“so fucking cute, your dirty little mouth- fuck- gonna make me cum,” his hips snap faster, cruelly hitting deep with every thrust, uncaring of your comfort, “this pussy is mine, fucking all mine, fff- tell me it’s mine.”

“it’s yours,” you moan, knuckles white as you hold on to the tile for dear life.

“f-fuckin’ right, gonna fill it up- take it, ffuck-”

his hips stall as you feel him throb inside, coating your walls with his cum as he leans his forehead on your shoulder, mumbling curses as your pussy contracts around him, sucking him dry. you stay like that for a while, both catching your breath, reeling as you come down. you whine when he finally slips out of you, his seed following suit as it drips to the floor. “what a mess,” he says under his breath, tucking his softening prick back into his pants. “‘d hate to be the one that has to clean that up.”

you turned to face him but he was already walking away, past you and out of the kitchen to the open space of the living room. it was like deja-vu, watching him leave after slutting you out. “as much as i’d ha-ate to leave you like this, well-” he turns to look at you, flushed and panting over the counter, “hate is a strong word,”

“wait,” you manage to croak out, shifting your weight to stand up straight, “are you… are you going to come back?”

taking the portal gun out of his coat he creates one, a wet garbled sound filling the quiet as green light washed over the room. you gasp, taking a step back- it was beautiful but terrifying, this floating mass of a void that has opened up in your apartment.

“maybe,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders, completely unphased to your bewilderment, “if he doesn’t get to you first.”

and with that he’s gone, stepping through the portal and you watch as it swallows itself up, leaving you in the dark.

#off limits #rick sanchez x reader #dom!rick #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick x reader #smut #x reader #perv!rick #afab!reader #check the warnings again #this was wild #naive!reader

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moonchildstyles · 3 years ago

Text

unscripted

this wasn't y/n's first time being a PA to a major star on a film set, but this was the first time she'd worked with someone like harry styles

wordcount: 16k+

—————

"Good morning, Mr. Styles!"

(Y/N) kept her chipper tone as quiet as possible as she entered her boss's trailer. Though he claimed to be a morning person, but there was something particularly wicked about five a.m. call times on a Sunday morning that even he wasn't immune to.

"You have another half hour until hair and makeup," she continued, carefully shutting the door closed behind her in an effort to keep out the chill of the morning, "But, I brought your coffee and a croissant from craft services."

Harry, in his morning glory, puffy eyes and all, gave her a soft smile as she entered. "Morning," he mumbled, decidedly less awake than his assistant who had been here since four a.m. with the rest of the crew. His thank you came after the first sip of coffee went down his throat, some of the sleep in his eyes seemingly melting away with the help of the warm drink.

"What kind is it?" he asked, referring to the croissant he had set with its napkin on his lap.

(Y/N) hung in the mouth of the trailer, more than happy to indulge in these morning conversations she had grown to look forward to in the last two weeks since shooting commenced. "Chocolate," she chirped, proud of her discovery for the morning, "It was the last one, so I had to hide it until you got here. After that, all that was going to be left were those lemon ones that are way too much to have for breakfast."

Knuckling at his eye, a warm smile tugged at Harry's lips. "That's why you're the best, (Y/N). I really lucked out with you, didn't I?"

Though the sentiment was nothing new, Harry's words did more for her than a cup of coffee or shot of green juice in the morning. In the weeks since filming starting and consequently being introduced to one another, Harry was probably one of the best temporary bosses she'd ever had since joining the industry. He was kind, understanding, and relentlessly patient with her.

It was hard not to harbor a small crush on him.

Especially now, with his lazily affectionate words falling from his pink, puffed lips, how was she supposed to just pretend her heart didn't flutter and her tummy didn't bubble full of honeybees and butterflies at his words. How was she supposed to ignore all of that when he was looking so cozy that (Y/N) swore she could cuddle into his chest and earn back her interrupted sleep from this morning.

His unstyled hair flopped over his forehead in lazy curls that matched the hood of his eyes. A rumpled green top covered his torso with the back decorated in large, pink hearts, something about self-love scrawled within the emblems. A soft pair of sweatpants encasing his legs, a rainbow gradient working over the fabric as he sat in the blanket draped chair at the cent of the vanity installed in his trailer. The amber colored bulbs were dimmed to his morning preference, the light bathing him in a golden haze that made him too pretty to be fair this early in the morning. He was the perfect lazy dream, and she couldn't ignore it if she tried.

But, no matter how much of a school-girl crush she felt, she knew this was nothing more than puppy love for a kind person who was acting as her boss for the next couple of months.

"Maybe you did," she answered him with a soft smile, hoping he didn't notice the rise in temperature behind her cheeks, "I'll be back to get you for hair and makeup, okay? Let me know if you need anything before then."

Harry gave her a soft nod, a wave of his ringless fingers being tossed in her direction. "I'll be waiting," he said, "Thank you again, (Y/N)."

Stepping out into the slowly warming morning air, (Y/N) couldn't be more grateful for the role she found herself in. Even if she was getting a little tired of these early morning call times.

—————

"Cut!"

The sound of the director's barked caused (Y/N) to jump, not having excepted the loud call in the middle of such an intense scene. While the shout made her and the other unsuspecting PA's and crew jump, the actors in front of the camera, including Harry, seemingly relaxed at the barking tone.

In a split second, Harry, who had previously donned a murderous scowl as he recited his whispered lines, slipped back into his true persona with a soft set in his shoulders, brow raised as he looked to the director for any instructions. Even now on the set of her fourth movie working as a crew member, and three weeks into his specific production, it still astounded her how actors like Harry were able to flip that switch so expertly.

He was set to play a morally grey character, allowing him the chance to enact some dark scenes (Y/N) got the privilege of witnessing first hand, just like today. Currently the set they were shooting in was meant to be the dark alleyway between a pair of abandoned buildings, the shot filled with dark crevices and menacing lighting that drained the scene to grayscale. She didn't have the firmest grasp on what the movie was about and what each scene was to entail (this specific director was known for leaving members of the production in the dark in an effort to gain the most organic reactions from actors and allow him to fully guide the film), but so far (Y/N) was entranced by Harry's character. She couldn't wait to see what everything looked like when it all came together.

When no other instructions other than a call for a break was given, Harry nodded with a smile to his scene partner before striding off set and out into the real world. Though he was no longer in character, he still looked the part as he gave her a smile from across the camera line. His tan, pressed slacks were ripped and frayed at the hem, matching the dishevelment of the white t-shirt tucked into the waistline, something the wardrobe department mixed up to look like blood staining the collar. His skin had been scrubbed clean of his collection of tattoos that morning, the ink now buried under layers of carefully applied makeup. His skin was clean and glowing, a sheen over his features sure to be emphasized in editing to highlight his features and the cut lines of his face. His hair had been meticulously styled to look perfectly disheveled, as if he really had ran his hand through the strands a thousand times before appearing on camera.

Seeing him like this, it was a wonder he wasn't cast for any and every movie, right smack as the lead.

She knew she'd go to the theater more often if that was the case.

His smile grew larger the closer he drew to her, his hand coming up to absently scratch at the patch of his chest exposed by the less than buttoned state of his shirt. "Hi," he said, his chipper greeting being a complete turnaround from the deep gravel that touched his voice during the scene, "How was that?"

He looked to her eagerly with his grin wide and dimples deep, seeking her honest opinion. He always did this when they cut for a break and (Y/N) was lucky enough to have the time to watch, always asking what she thought of the scene and if there was anything he should do to make the performance carry more impact. Today, just like almost every other day, she had nothing but glowing reviews for his acting.

"It was perfect, Mr. Styles," she praised, skipping into step beside him, "You looked really scary for a little bit, not going to lie." She gazed up at him with a smile, hoping he knew just how honestly she meant her kind words.

"Really?" he asked, looking down at her as he worked to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt, readying himself for the lunch break, "Didn't mean to scare you, (Y/N)."

"But that's the point, remember?" she countered, "You're supposed to be scary, that's how I know it was good. Even without all the special editing, and angles, and everything, it still scared me. It looked like you meant it, what you were saying. It was really, really good."

His smile turned crooked as he dropped his eyes to the ground where their steps were in line. "Yeah? You think so?

From a few of the conversations they'd had regarding the movie, Harry had shared with her some of his nerves over the role. He'd only ventured into something dark like this once before, but never on a scale like this one. He had told her he was worried he wasn't quite cut out for this all, despite having been vetted through the same auditioning process like everyone else, having earned the role and proven himself like the rest of the cast.

"I know so, Mr. Styles."

A bashful smile curved his lips, dimples denting his cheeks. Harry flicked his gaze to her through the vignette of his lashes, the intensity of the contact showing her how sincerely he appreciated her. "Thank you."

"Of course," she peeped, cheeks growing hot under his attention. She feared, after these weeks with him, that she'd never get used to that level of engrossment from him, eye contact and all. Being nothing more than a personal assistant to such large stars on movie sets made it something of an impossibility to be taken note of, so Harry's attention made even more of an impact than she's sure he knew. It made her feel important. "Um," she started, shaking herself from her thoughts though her brain lagged behind her mouth, "Before you go change, I can take your lunch order so its ready when you are, if you want?"

Harry let out a hum as he considered her words, taking on the opposite cuff now that the first was loose. After a moment, he finally looked to her with his brows raised, "What are y'getting?"

"Probably that salmon that we had last week again, the one with the lemon and capers," she answered, already eager to break off and finally eat since the short breakfast she had at four a.m. before coming to set. "Did you want the scampi again, or try the crab cakes you missed last time?"

Another contemplative hum left his throat as they approached the small stack of stairs to his trailer, both Harry's name and his character's name plastered to the door. "I'll be brave and try the crab cakes, I think," Harry joked, stopping in front of the small case to face (Y/N).

"Okay," she chirped, cataloguing the entree away next to the same sides he asked for every time—a side Caesar salad and the sage butter peas served daily. "I'll go pass that along and bring it to you when you're ready!"

"Wait, wait," Harry stopped her, a gentle hand cupping her elbow before she could get too far. (Y/N) spun on her heel, a question raising her brows as she looked to him. Maybe he wanted to try the kale salad instead today. His question only made her brows shoot higher in confusion. "What are y'doing for lunch?"

"Oh," she sounded, caught off guard, "I was probably going to go around back, like I usually do. Why?"

He rolled his lips between his teeth, his brows pulling to a furrow. He ignored her own question in favor of posing another of his own, "Alone?"

"Most of the time, yeah," she nodded, "Depends on who's on break at the same time, and everything."

Harry nodded his head slowly at her words, his grip on her elbow loosening until falling away to hang his hand at his side. His gaze only flitted from her own to take stock of her features for a moment. "Would y'want to eat with me, instead?"

Never had she had a boss ask her to take her lunch with them. They were usually much too busy or in need of space after being fussed over for hours on end (or just plain divas who didn't believe they had time to sink low enough to have a meal with their assistant).

"Are you sure?"

His expression never swayed, staying firm on his offer. "Yes."

How was she supposed to say no to something like that?

A bright smile bloomed across her features, her fingers itching to tuck on the tiny locket clasped around her neck. "Okay, yeah," she sighed, "I'll come back when everything is ready, if that's okay. Thank you, Mr. Styles."

He shook his head, curls flopping over his forehead, "Don't need to thank me or anything, jus' come back soon."

(Y/N) lagged in her spot for a moment, the toe of her shoe scraping the pavement beneath them. He wanted her to come back to him. He wasn't making this easy for her.

She nodded her head to him biting back a smile that stuck on her face the whole way to the catering tent.

—————

"I didn't know y'worked on that movie. 'S one of m'favorites."

(Y/N) keened under Harry's attention, having become completely enveloped with it since walking into his trailer with their lunch. She had barely kept it under wraps when she was placing their orders and awaiting the plates to be put together while she stood with the rest of the assistants and crew under the tent, bursting at the seams with the excitement of her lunch invitation. Under her own accord, she figured it would be better to keep this to herself for the time being, knowing just how quickly the rumor mill turned on productions like these. Whether or not Harry's invitation meant anything, it would no doubt be taken in as many different and scandalous ways possible just to give the bored crew something to talk about (and potentially sell to the press).

But, the second she scaled those short steps to his trailer, (Y/N) had felt both high and grounded at the same time. Harry was just as genuine as he had come across in their daily interactions; his attention never swaying from her as she spoke, even when she shared stories she had no doubt were pale in comparison to the arsenal he walked around with. He seemed to be actually interested in her.

Nodding her head, (Y/N) tucked herself further into the corner of the small couch pressed against the wall of the trailer. Her lunch was only halfway finished despite the fact they had less than ten minutes of the promised break left, too occupied to focus on eating. "Mhm," she hummed, "It the first real movie I ever got to work on. I didn't know it was your favorite, Mr. Styles."

Harry was quick to shake his head at her words, swallowing down the bite of crab cake with a furrow to his brow. "Don't have to call me that, you know," he said after his mouth was no longer full, looking to her through the curls that fell over his forehead, "I know 'm technically your boss, or whatever, but y'don't have to call me that. 'M okay with Harry, or H."

(Y/N) hesitated for a second. She'd never been explicitly invited to work around the chain of command like that before. "I don't know, Mr. Styles..."

While it wasn't exactly against the rules, she doubted their director and hoard of producers—legends in Hollywood, known for their traditional approach to productions—would be privy to the idea of her cozying up to the star of what was slated to be a blockbuster film.

"We're friends, right?" he asked, prodding her gently with a raised brow as he scooped up a bite of peas.

A smile pinched at the corners of her mouth. "I'd hope so."

"Then, please, call me Harry. I want y'to call me that."

Glancing up through her lashes, she found him looking to her with that moss green intensity simmering in his eyes. He was being honest. He considered them to be friends, and wanted her to treat him as such, not as the talent on set that happened to also be her superior.

"Okay, Harry."

A dimple-inducing smile molded his features, the smile too big for him to even take the bite of peas he had queued up. She was happy he had his eyes pointed downward at the plate in his lap for the time being, so he wouldn't see her testing the heat hiding behind her cheeks with a brush of her fingers.

Adjusting his posture, Harry placed his almost finished plate to the side, resting on the vanity that lined the front of his trailer. His attention was placed solely on her, his phone nowhere in sight.

With his elbow propped on his knee, Harry fit his chin in his palm. "If y'don't mind me asking, what other movies have y'been a part of?"

She shrugged her shoulders in response, "I haven't worked on a lot or anything, I don't have a bunch of cool stories outside of the one I just told you."

At that, Harry let out a small laugh, the sound permeating the small trailer.

"What's funny?" (Y/N) asked though a smile was already picking at the edges of her lips at the sound of his happiness. Whatever she did to draw that from him, she hoped he'd tell her so she could do it again.

"Nothing," he said shaking his head, "You're jus' cute. I want to hear all of your stories, even the ones y'don't think are 'cool'. Besides, I think you're plenty cool for the both of us, so I can make up for it."

Before (Y/N) could formulate any kind of response, a breathless laugh fell from her lips. The sound was tugged out from nothing other than utter happiness in that moment. She'd never met anyone like Harry Styles before, especially after moving to L.A..

Though she could have reveled in the knowledge that not only did he think she was cool, but he said she was cute, too, but she was too aware of the fact he was waiting on her and the handful of stories she had left to share. She'd scream into her pillow later tonight about those sweet words wrapped in his graveled voice, but for now, she was going to pick out her most impressive stories and hope that gleam he saw in her never lessened.

"Well," she started, canting her head, "A couple of years ago, I was working on a movie with Anya Taylor-Joy and..."

As (Y/N) pattered on with her story, she couldn't help but notice that Harry's eyes never moved from her and the smile on his lips never lessened.

—————

"They were all out of croissants today, but I did grab that brioche and egg sandwich you've been smelling in the morning," (Y/N) introduced as she brought in Harry's breakfast the following morning. She'd only been here for about an hour, and her cheeks already hurt from how large her grin was at the prospect of seeing Harry again after their lunch the day before.

Though she knew the croissants were his favorite, when she shared the change of plans with him, Harry's expression never swayed from the silent contentment that touched at his eyes and threatened the corners of his lips.

"You're the best, (Y/N)," Harry praised her, morning voice especially deep due to the early call time today. He had to get his entire body scrubbed of his tattoos today, not just his forearm and the birds on his chest, the project going to be nothing less than a couple hours long for the makeup department.

"And you're too sweet," she countered, unable to match his eyes as the gentle compliment left her lips, feeling too shy. There was a certain barrier that was lacking now after their shared lunch break the day before, but she still wasn't as free-wheeling with the praise when it didn't pertain to his acting. With his coffee and food safely in his hands, (Y/N) began to edge out of his trailer, "I'll be back to grab you for hair and makeup in about twenty minutes, but let me know if you need anything before then."

Harry nodded his head as he sipped his coffee. "Before y'go," he interrupted her exit, waiting as (Y/N) lifted her chin in acknowledgment, "You're eating lunch with me again today, right?"

If not for the fact that she could hear her blood pumping through her ears and the heat she felt behind her smiling cheeks, (Y/N) would have thought her heart stopped in that moment.

"Do you want me to?

A crooked smile took home on Harry's lips, the curve being seen around the rim of his paper coffee cup. "Unless y'have plans."

She was quick to shake her head, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in effort to bite back the grin tugging at her lips. "No, no. I'll be here."

"Good."

All the while (Y/N) ran around, getting Harry's things ready for the day, she carried that good around with her.

—————

As (Y/N) watched Harry shoot, once again returning to the murky alley way they had filmed in over a week ago, she noticed the circles lingering under his eyes. Makeup hadn't bothered to cover them since they paired well with the distress his character was meant to be under for the scene, but seeing them and knowing they were real chipped at (Y/N)'s heart just a bit.

She knew he was entrenched in some album decisions, lots of final calls being presented to him the closer the record pressing deadline came. (He was deadset on releasing vinyl versions of this album he had told her, in several different colors too, no matter if the deadlines were crashing into his filming schedule). This morning, when she dropped off his breakfast, he had already been dressed and put up in character after shooting a set of early scenes, earlier than even her own set time, only a skeleton crew being used until five a.m.. He had shared just a bit of his woes with her, telling her he had been up on a conference call with his label and manager until the late hours of the night to finalize the album rollout and promotion strategy that went along with it. He barely made it to bed after midnight, before his alarm was screaming at him to wake a few short hours later.

While (Y/N) usually loved to sit in and watch him work, today wasn't as magical as she was used to. He had no shortage of talent like he lacked sleep, but knowing what was happening underneath his character made her want to tug him away and set him up in his trailer with a warm blanket and permission to nap.

"Let's break for lunch!" (Y/N) heard called across the lot, the voice of the director reaching through to where Harry had been loosening up after nailing that scene.

She heard another stream of instructions, Harry's scene partner needed back in an hour while Harry could be off for the next couple. At the news, the stiff set in his shoulders fell before he almost brought his hand up to run through his hair. Just in time, he remembered the gel sculpting his hair into perfect waves that would no doubt need to remain the same for whatever was planned after his break. Nonetheless, a deep breath was released from his lungs as he strode off set. His eyes scanned over the line of cameras and crew, peering through the lights trained on the set.

With the way his eyes brightened when he caught sight of her, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like he had been looking for her.

"You're staying with me for lunch again, right?" Harry asked, skipping the usual question of what she thought of the scene.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," (Y/N) hurried to reassure him, falling into sync with his steps, "Still tired?"

Harry let out a sigh, eyes facing the ground as they approached his trailer. "Yeah," he confirmed, the weight of the sleepless hours settling in his voice, "'S been a long day already and it's not even noon, yet."

Letting out a breathless laugh, (Y/N) wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him in sympathy. "I'm sorry, H," she said, peering up at him with a sympathetic pout puffing her lips, "At least you have a little bit of a break now. You can relax after we eat."

A crooked smile took home on Harry's lips as he shifted his gaze to settle on her, "Not your fault, don't apologize," he murmured to her, his voice quiet just for the two of them. With the way he was looking at her, (Y/N) hadn't even noticed they made it to his trailer until she felt his warm hand wrap around her arm, stopping her from continuing to walk off without him. Harry flicked his gaze up to the door of his trailer before returning to (Y/N) with a slight furrow to his brow though he never lost his lopsided smile, "And where did y'think y'were going?"

Instantly, a heat was felt behind (Y/N)'s cheeks. All the blood that wasn't rushing to where Harry was touching her, flooded to her cheeks and warmed her skin. "Oh-I," she stuttered, her tongue fumbling behind her lips, "I didn't realize..."

Harry shook his head, his grin growing. "You're so cute."

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) bit back her smile. Though reluctant to leave his grip and the blanket of his shadow, she gestured behind her shoulder towards the set and the catering tent. "I should go get our lunches and everything," she said, her words coming out in something of a daze, "I'll be right back."

Her words were meant to be a statement, a short promise of her return, but in the end a little curved her tone like a question.

"Okay," Harry answered, his hand falling from around her arm though the phantom of his fingers still remained, "Hurry back."

And, that she did.

—————

After hearing a faint Come in! called through Harry's trailer door, (Y/N) maneuvered her way inside while juggling a pair of plates stacked with their chosen lunches for the day. (Ever since the day he tried the crab cakes, whenever they were served Harry didn't waste time in assuring that's what (Y/N) was packing for him). Once inside, while she'd never seen it before, (Y/N) couldn't be all that surprised with what she found with how the day was going.

Typically, Harry was the kind of person to have as much light filtering through his trailer as possible, the space bright and sunny as they worked throughout the day. But, with the fact he was working on less than enough sleep and the eye bags that hung under his lashes, she shouldn't have been that surprised that he finally utilized the heavy curtains pinned around the windows and had the minimum amount of lights on while still allowing him enough of a glow to see.

While it was most likely no where near as comfortable as the bed he surely wanted, Harry still tucked himself into the quilted couch pushed against he sidewall that he and (Y/N) usually ate at. He had changed out of his character clothing, the articles carefully folded and set on the vanity. Seemingly forgetting—or no longer caring—about the amount of gel used to make his hair the perfectly-unperfect mess that was becoming his character's trademark the more the film progressed, Harry even succumbed to using the stiff decorative throw pillows he usually complained about, his head pillowed by the unforgiving foam.

Eyes fluttering open at her arrival, Harry made the massive effort of leaving his relaxed position laid out on the couch, to sit up with a sigh. "You're back," he announced sleepily, "I kind of fell asleep for a little bit, sorry."

"No, no, don't be sorry," (Y/N) murmured, keeping her tone quiet to match the ambiance of his trailer, "I can leave you be if you want. You don't have to eat with me if you're so tired."

The sleep mussed curls on his head fell over his forehead as he shook his head. "No, I want y'to stay."

Her heart began to glow in her chest at his words. Though she felt a bit guilty to be distracting him from his needed break time that he could use to nap, she wasn't going to deny him (or herself, really) from his wants.

"Okay," she peeped, taking her usual spot in the cushioned corner of the couch once she passed his plate off.

Maybe it was the way the sun filtered though in gentle slivers, or the feel of the plush blanket that hung over the back of the couch, or just the sound of another being so close to her, but (Y/N) was halfway sure this is the closest to home she'd ever felt while being on set. If not for the close quarters and the fact the closest bathroom was through a series of hallways through the studio, she would have convinced herself this was some new overpriced apartment she managed to snag in the middle of the city, Harry only becoming another anchor that urged her to curl up and stay awhile.

His presence covered her like the warm blanket pressed into her back, keeping her warmer than the lattice of sunlight that spotted through the trailer. In the ambiance of the confined space, (Y/N) didn't feel the usual need to fill the silence with any kind of conversation, feeling comforted by the quiet that could settle between them. Through the weeks, he'd become a good friend to her. Of course, he was the kind of friend that had the power to boss her around and made her heart flutter every time he smiled at her, so she figured it was a bit of an unconventional friendship. Nonetheless, she truly hoped this would be something that followed her after filming wrapped and she had no excuse to be around him day in and day out.

"You're alright outside of being tired, right?" (Y/N) questioned, stealing a glance at the way Harry didn't do much more than take a couple bites of his food before pushing around the rest.

A quiet nod was offered before he found his voice, a heavy hand running through his hair. Hair and makeup was going to hate him later.

"Yeah, 'm jus' a little exhausted, honestly," he told her, a sleep-soaked smile curling his lips.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) plucked together an idea with the feel of the down blanket brushing against her form. Looking to Harry, she found those bags persisting under his eyes as he gazed at her with his cheek cupped in his hand and elbow propped on his knee.

"You can lay down again, if you want," she offered, grabbing for Harry's plate before pushing them both off onto the vanity just within reach of her side of the couch. Reaching behind her, she tugged the quilt thrown over the back of the sofa, "Take a nap, and I'll wake you up when its time."

Passing the comforter to him, (Y/N) made a move to desert her spot on the cushion to give his long form full reign over the couch, but was promptly stopped with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry didn't say much as (Y/N) settled back in her spot, her mouth falling into a small gape. He maneuvered himself to sprawl across the sofa, feet on the other end where he had been sitting with the blanket now covering his form. (Y/N) knew what was coming before she felt it, but even as he laid his head down to be cushioned by her thighs, she swore her heart stopped all together.

(Y/N) couldn't have been more grateful for the new lack of gel in his hair as the strands flared out in her lap, baby curls framing his face. Highlighted by the slivers of sunlight peeking through, his cheekbones looked especially high, the remaining sheen of his makeup shimmering in the light. If not for the darkened circles under his eyes, (Y/N) would have sworn he was the prince in a storybook, even if he was dressed in an oversized crewneck with visible tears in the collar.

Through hooded lids, lashes fluttering, Harry gazed up at her. "Is this alright?" he murmured.

With her voice stuck in her throat, (Y/N) nodded her head, a tender smile tugging at her lips. She acted on instinct as she brought her hand to his hair, a single finger brushing a stray curl from his eyes. Harry only reacted with his eyes trying to follow the motion, the lilpads going crossed in his efforts. The laugh that drew from (Y/N) caused Harry's own smile to unfurl on his lips, his body sinking further into the small reprieve offered in that moment.

That single finger caress of (Y/N)'s turned into her fingers trailing through his hair now that she knew he wasn't perturbed by her touch. She combed the strands through her fingers, dismantling the few remaining constructed waves as she went. Harry's eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a deep breath expanding his lungs while a look of contentment molded his features and sunk his shoulders into the cushions.

"That feels nice," Harry murmured, voice lazy as she worked.

"Want me to keep going?"

His quiet smile widened further at her question, dimples popping into his cheeks, "Mhm. Please."

At his request, (Y/N) glazed her attention over him like honey. She worked her fingers in gentle strokes through his hair, fingertips brushing along his hairline in cautious touches to satiate the urge to know what it felt like to touch his skin and feel his face under her hands. Harry was a willing participant in the way he practically lent into her touch like a kitten, keening as she stroked his skin. In a daring move (at least to (Y/N)), after tracing over the baby curls lining his hairline, (Y/N) strayed from her familiar path. The tip of her index finger grazed over his cheekbone, touching over the sheen she had been familiarizing herself with as she laid her affection all over him. The planes of his face directed her further over his features, drawing her to the line of his nose and the curves of his brows. It was only when she dared graze over the hills and valleys of his Cupid's bow that she realized he was smiling.

"What?" she asked, taking the opportunity to poke at his dimple.

"Nothing," he whispered, blinking his eyes open to look at her. The tension his eyes had held through the day had dissipated, having floated away now that he wasn't under the pressure of the lights and producers trying to squeeze the best out of him. He used his eyes like (Y/N) used her hands, tracing over all of her features, seemingly cataloguing them away for another day. "'S nothing, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) made a move to take her hand away from his skin, intending on tucking it underneath her thigh so she didn't do anything embarrassing now that he could see her. She didn't get very far before Harry gently grabbed at her wrist, fingers wrapping around her arm.

"Don't stop," Harry murmured, his request simple though his eyes were intense on hers.

He kept her hand pressed to his cheek, fingertips dipping into his hairline while her palm fit to the curve of his cheek. Harry was in control of her movements then, using his grip on her wrist to tug her hand over his skin. Slowly grazing his face, feeling every curve and dip of his features, the rough stubble he had grown for his character, she swore she felt the faintest heat rise to his cheeks. In a slow glide, Harry brought her fingertips dangerously close to his lips.

Stopping just before she could touch the raspberry colored skin, (Y/N) flicked her gaze from her hands to find Harry looking at her just as intently as when they began. Her mouth suddenly felt dry under his attention, this moment feeling different than any they had shared before.

Swallowing, (Y/N) struggled to find her voice. "H-Harry, I—"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(Y/N) jumped in her spot, her movement effectively jerking her hand out of Harry's grasp. Someone was knocking on the trailer door.

"(Y/N)? Are you in there?"

The familiar voice of one of her fellow assistants, Meredith, sounded on the other side of the door. She was one of the few that knew where she spent her lunch breaks these days, and (Y/N) knew she wouldn't bother her if it wasn't important.

"Y-Yeah," (Y/N) croaked, cringing at the crack of her voice, "Is everything okay?"

"Russ needed some help unloading costumes for the cocktail scene," Meredith explained, "It's kind of a lot with all of the extras, so I was hoping you could help a little. If you weren't busy anyway."

Her final statement was tacked on at the end like an afterthought. Though (Y/N) wished she could take advantage of that out, she knew she really wasn't busy with anything else other than indulging herself.

Looking down at Harry still tucked in her lap, he gave her a gentle nod of his head.

"No, I can come help. Give me a second," (Y/N) called back, feeling the fragile thread that had weaved to tie them together in that moment become severed.

Meredith called out and Okay, thanks! before the other side of the door went silent, leaving a less-than perfect quiet to settle in the trailer.

Harry's movements were lethargic as he moved to sit up, leaving (Y/N) cold as she stood from her spot. She didn't know what to do with her hands now that she knew how much she'd rather be raking them through Harry's hair and grazing the peaks and valleys of his face.

She shuffled on her feet as she looked at him, "I'll—um—I'll come back after, and everything. Okay?"

A tender smile stretched Harry's lips, his fingers coming up to pluck at his bottom lip. "Okay. Hurry back."

All through the task of unloading the wardrobe trailer, (Y/N) never stopped thinking about just how close she was to feeling the edge of Harry's lips. What a privilege that would have been.

—————

"Cut! That's it for today, everybody go home. Good work!"

Harry's eyes immediately scanned the team behind the camera line, (Y/N) watching as he lit up once he caught sight of her. He only lagged behind a second, sharing quick goodbyes with his scene partners and the crew that helped craft the scene, including a shaking of hands with the director, before he was stepping past the line of ready crew to where (Y/N) was waiting a few paces back.

"Hey, you," he greeted her once he was close enough, smile bright.

"Hi." She reciprocated his grin, falling into step with him as they moved, "That was really good, H. You have to promise to take me to the Oscars when you get nominated for this role."

Peering up at him, (Y/N) got the perfect view of a dimple thumbed into his cheek and what she swore was a blush tinting the tip of his ear red.

"Y'think I'll get nominated?"

"And win," (Y/N) added, a definite nod emphasizing just how much conviction she held in her claim. She didn't know what would look better: him on the big screen for two full hours or him glowing with an Oscar statuette in his hand?

Speaking through his smile, Harry mumbled out a shy, "Thank you, (Y/N)," her name just barely catching over the sound of their feet scuffing over the pavement.

As Harry's trailer came into view, with the knowledge that today had officially wrapped and (Y/N) had one last task of walking him to his trailer before setting off herself to go home, she dreaded the remaining paces.

Harry had been insanely busy all day, getting the smallest of detail shots done before specific sets were set to be torn down to leave the rest of the time for the major scenes that needed more time to refine. Aside from the short breakfast they had that morning and a twenty minute lunch, there wasn't much time leftover to spend together like (Y/N) was becoming so used to. And, now she was going to go home and hope she had more time with him tomorrow, even though she knew the closer the final shoot day came, the less and less time he would have for her.

"What's got y'looking all sad, hm?" Harry asked, his words fragranced with he smile she was sure was pinned to his face. Nonetheless, (Y/N) kept her eyes trained on their steps, the yards disappearing much faster than she would have liked.

"Nothing," she shrugged, "Just tired. If it's been a long day for me, I don't know how you're still standing right now."

With her eyes trained forward, (Y/N) didn't see the way Harry was gazing her and especially didn't see him nudge closer before throwing his arm over her shoulders. The weight was a welcome heft over her form, tugging her into Harry's side as he gazed down at her. He was warm against her, just as warm as she caught a glimpse of in his trailer a week ago and just as warm as the sincerity in his eyes suggested.

"What are y'doing after this?" he asked, his tone gentle between just the two of them.

(Y/N) feared her tongue had gone numb as she struggled to find any kind of footing in that moment, nothing threading together in her head as she matched his eye contact. Harry seemed like he knew exactly what she was struggling with as his grin turned crooked, a break in his eye contact happening as he flitted over her softened features. A soft squeeze was delivered to her bicep with the hand he had thrown over her shoulders.

"Y'alright?"

That was enough to knock (Y/N) out of her stupor and take stock of the rest of her body that wasn't in direct contact with his. It was then that she realized that their feet had slowed a fair amount, the length between them and his trailer now taking much longer to cover.

"Y-yeah, sorry," she murmured, "I'm—uh—I'm not doing anything after this, no."

Harry rolled his lips between his teeth at her words. The moss coloring of his irises were what held (Y/N)'s attention even as his own eyes trailed over her face, tracing along the dips of her features and even daring to go as low as the curve of her neck and slope of her shoulders.

If he was thinking anything near what she was thinking...

The sound of another's trailer door slamming to a close seemed to shatter the bubble forming around them. Harry used the reprieve to suck in a breath (Y/N) hadn't realized he was denying himself. Though the weight on her shoulders remained, his hand dangling over her shoulder, he lessened the impact from the heft that slowed their steps.

Harry cleared his throat with a rumble, his gaze drifting from hers as he faced forward. "That's good, y'should go home and sleep. 'S supposed to start getting a little crazy soon, and I don't want y'getting sick or feeling unwell while you're running around for me."

(Y/N)'s lashes fluttered in a series of blinks. When had everything around Harry turned into a blur with him being the only steady focal point?

"Right," she agreed, only half processing his words though she knew it wasn't exactly the response she had been anticipating. She had sworn she saw him look at her lips.

Now at the doorstep of his trailer, Harry's last stop for the day to get out of costume before going home, (Y/N) had never wanted to stay at work this badly before. She didn't care about the rest he had suggested for her, she would much rather see if she had really caught him looking at her mouth, or if she just just falling victim to the whims of her heart.

"But, I'll see you in the morning, right?" Harry said with an air of finality, his arm falling from her shoulders as he turned to face her with the trailer behind him.

"Of course," she nodded her head, a bright smile worming its way on her lips out of habit, "Bright and early."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Harry murmured, a quiet smile on his lips that felt a lot more intimate than should be fair in the middle of a crowded studio lot, "You're m'favorite to see first thing in the morning, you know that?"

A conflict arose as (Y/N) realized that she didn't know if she wanted to smile at him, or allow her mouth to gape in awe of what he had just shared with her. No, she hadn't known that, but now (Y/N) was sure she wasn't ever going to forget that, even if just for a small amount of time, she had been Harry's favorite person to see first thing in the morning.

He must have been able to catch onto her floundering, as Harry only giving her a lopsided grin, a single dimple winking to her in the fading sunlight. "You're cute, (Y/N)," he said, obviously on a mission to kill her with a heart attack, "Let me know when y'get home safe, yeah?"

A soft yeah fell from (Y/N)'s lips as she managed to nod at him. With one more shake of his head, Harry backed into his trailer.

She'd never been more ready to go back to work, her time at home suddenly seeming like a burden when all she wanted was to be behind that door with him.

—————

With only a couple weeks left of filming, (Y/N) didn't want to squander any remaining time she had with Harry. That's why she didn't hesitate before running off to craft services and picking up their lunches as Harry finished off the scene they had taken all morning to shoot and get just the way the director envisioned it. She practically skipped all the way back to his trailer, her smile bright as she passed by fellow crew members and production assistants.

Carefully juggling the pair of plates in her hands, she scaled the stairs to his trailer and plucked open the door. (Y/N) practically jumped in her spot when she heard his deep voice filter through the small space, the same voice she only heard him use when he was in character and on set. She didn't know he was practicing lines for his lunch break today.

As she carefully crept in, (Y/N) held an apologetic smile as she continued her cautious balancing act with their food. "Sorry, I didn't know you were running lines today, I ca—"

"What?"

Harry's question brought (Y/N)'s eyes up from the plates, finding him sat on the sofa by himself with his script in hand.

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, now feeling especially silly after having walked in like she did, "I thought you were running lines with someone, sorry." She ended with a huff of a laugh, moving to pass Harry's lunch off to him instead of leaving it on the vanity.

"No," Harry smiled with a shake of his head, "'M jus' running it with myself. I've got this big monologue we're shooting on Friday that's been tripping me up, so 'm trying to get it down before then."

(Y/N) sat down in her designated corner of the couch, her brows raising as she listened to him. "What's the scene about?"

The script showed signs of wear as Harry placed it on the arm of the couch, folds on the corners of the pages as well as rips in the paper. It was obvious he had been trying to get this down for a while now, though (Y/N) couldn't figure out when he had the time since she was with him more often than not when he wasn't in front of the camera. With his eyes trained on the plate in his lap and brows pinched in a furrow, Harry pursed his lips before speaking. "'S the big love confession between mine and Vic's characters, after I find her in the basement," he mused, "But I can't get it right. None of it feels real, not like when I've read for the other scenes." "Oh," (Y/N) sounded, eyes falling to the script on the other side of the couch, "Do you mind if I read it over? You can show me where you're hitting that wall, and I'll see if I can help."

Harry nodded his head, passing the staple bound pages to her. Thumbing through the pages, he brought her to the monologue he was referencing. "'S this part right here," he mumbled, unpainted fingernail pausing at a large paragraph of dialogue with Harry's character's name typed off to the side.

Scanning over it, (Y/N) read the confession with wide eyes. Even though she was a part of production, on high profile movies like this, often times, she and other crew weren't cleared to know the ins and outs of the film just to preserve the mystery around the scenes and lessen the chances of any leaks. This was the first real peek she was gaining into how the movie would all tie together, even with the few moments she's been able to watch behind the camera line.

God, she though, she couldn't wait until she got to see this all on the big screen.

Just the idea of Harry uttering these words, the sound of his rough, in-character voice, wrapping around the monologue made her mouth run dry.

"And-um-what part were you having trouble at?" she floundered, aware of the dazed quality to her voice as she tried to shake the echo of his voice from her head.

Swallowing the bite of food in his mouth, Harry pointed to a specific line, "This one. 'M supposed to be angry, in a way, at how much I love her. 'S supposed to be some kind of revelation that I've been doing all these things because I love her and not for myself."

(Y/N) had to hold back the lame sounding "oh" that threatened to fall from her lips. To save herself from a loose-lipped response, she looked to the script in her hands, tearing her gaze from Harry across from her. She read over the paragraph again, adding in the cues she learned from him, a frustrated undercurrent working its way under the confession inked on the pages.

She could see how it might be hard to execute out loud, the words needing to come together with the right pacing while allowing for the drama of the moment to sink in for both the audience and Victoria's character. Maybe he needed that energy to play off of, another in the room with him to react off of, to make it all feel real for him.

Knowing that Victoria was busy with other scenes not including Harry, (Y/N) allowed a wild hare of an idea to skitter through her mind.

They did have another hour and a half before he was needed again...

"I'm not any good or anything, but if you wanted to run your lines again with me just so you can have someone to play off of, I don't mind helping."

The offer ended in a lilt of (Y/N)'s voice, a question that he had every right to turn down if he would rather work alone.

"Really?"

The perky tone that held up Harry's voice caused (Y/N) to look up from the script. She found him gazing at her with a brightness in his eyes and brows raised. He looked excited.

"Yeah, if you want. I'm not Vic or anything, but I think I've been on enough sets to get the gist of it." (Y/N) worked her bottom lip between the blunt of her teeth, a fresh set of nerves touching at her.

A small smile bloomed on the corners of Harry's mouth, "Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you, (Y/N)." When she made a move to pass the script back to him, a proposal that they could read off the same page together forming on her tongue, Harry stopped her with a shake of his head and a melted hand pushing the pages back to her. "I can remember, y'keep it."

Their lunches were long forgotten, (Y/N) moving them to Harry's vanity where they sat half-eaten as Harry pointed out the section he wanted her to start at. Then, he settled into his cushion across the couch from her. Harry sat with his elbows on his knees, his entire body angled towards her with his head inclined her direction, chin up and expecting.

She felt transparent under his gaze, not a single secret having anywhere left to hide with the lilypads of his irises inspecting each and every single one of her movements.

Was this what is was like to work a scene with him? How anyone was able to keep their head on straight, let alone a scripted facade, she didn't know.

"Um," she floundered sucking in a deep breath, her rattled hands displaying a slight tremor as she scanned the script. "Ready?"

Harry only gave a hum in response, the tone deeper than even the voice he had been using a minutes prior.

A quick muttering of okay fell from (Y/N)'s lips before she started speaking. Using her best Victoria impression, and cues she had picked up while watching so many scenes, (Y/N) recited, "H-How do you know all of this? You're not making any sense, Ha—Keaton."

Ignoring the her stumble over his real name and character's name, Harry continued on from memory, "I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart."

Whether it be the will of his character, or Harry acting on his own free will, (Y/N) couldn't ignore the way his eyes crawled over her face before dropping along the slope of her shoulder and down to the neckline of her top. His breathing was even and paced, nothing to give away that he might be reciprocating any of the buzzing (Y/N) felt beneath her skin.

"You didn't... that wasn't...," (Y/N) swallowed around her tongue like she was really in the dark basement described at the head of the scene, feeling exposed with Harry's eyes acting as the camera. "Keaton, don't tell me that you—"

"They were trying to hurt you, Piper, I saw them. You didn't see what I saw in them, but they weren't good people. Every time you turned your back, I saw them plotting to take something from you and ruin you." Harry ground his teeth, taking cues from his character.

"But, Josh, he didn—"

"Especially Joshua," Harry shot back, cutting off her stuttering, "You didn't see him for what he was, saw what he did when you weren't looking. He was the one taking things from your apartment and making you feel crazy when you noticed. He was the one taking you to all these places without telling you what was waiting in the dark when you got lost. He was the worst of them all, and I couldn't stand back and watch another person hurt you."

"Why would you do that?" she whispered, voice delicate in the space between them. If not for needing to read the script in her hands, (Y/N) never would draw her eyes away from Harry's, this moment sucking her in better than any film could achieve.

"Because, I love you," Harry paused for dramatic effect, his tip of his tongue drawing along the seam of his lips as he examined her, "I've been there every day, watching you be torn down by people who weren't good enough for you, tricked you into trusting them, or even made you love them before they left. I was here every time, on the other side of that wall, hearing you cry and scream and hope for something new. I couldn't hear you cry anymore, sweetheart, I couldn't.

"If you had to go through one more disappointment, one more elevator ride with red eyes, one more day being anything less than perfectly content, I was going to lose my mind. So, I fixed everything. For you." Harry's gaze finally fell from her own, the cage of his eyes freeing her as he dropped to her slightly gaping lips as she listened to him. "I did all of this because I love you. And I would do it again, just to give you even one more happy day."

Silence hung in the air as Harry finished his dialogue. Where he had been struggling, (Y/N) didn't pick up on it for a second. He complained about the moments, the wording, the dialect not coming out naturally and not feeling real, but (Y/N) would love to beg to differ.

If not for the hazy, warm lighting filtering through the clean trailer, (Y/N) would have thought she was in the dingy basement with a corpse shoved in the corner with her partner trying to explain it all away. In this moment, she felt like a prop to hold up Harry's performance, and she couldn't be more enchanted by the man sitting across from her.

Dropping her gaze to the script in hand, realizing just how long she had sat and stared at him, (Y/N) just about froze when she read the next set of directions.

"It says you're supposed to kiss me now." (Y/N) didn't know when she became so breathless, but the squeeze in her lungs was evident in her voice.

"Okay."

In a second, the script in her hand fell to the floor of the trailer and Harry was on her. His hand wrapped around her waist as his mouth sealed itself over her own, the pillows of his lips molding to the curves and dips of her mouth. This wasn't the kind of kiss between their characters instructed by the script, this was Harry and (Y/N). The knowledge allowed for a shot of adrenaline to shudder through (Y/N)'s body.

If not for the instinctual act of fluttering her eyes closed, (Y/N) would have yearned to know what he looked like when he slipped his mouth over hers and crawled atop her. Instead, she saw him with her hands.

Her first touch came with a fluttering of her palms over his shoulders before settling on the broad stretch of muscle covering his back. She scoured the length of his body under her palm, the ridges and dips of his muscles undeniable. He was completely solid, though it wasn't much of a surprise given the way she got a good view of this when he worked out on set and tucked under t-shirts he wore during breaks in between scenes. Her palms slid up his shoulders before her fingers carded through his hair, the baby curls bordering the hairline twisting around her touch as if they were keening into her. He hovered his weight above her, his hand on her waist and the one behind her on the armrest kept him from falling into her, though (Y/N) swore she could feel every inch of his body.

His breath came in puffs through his nose that fanned out over her skin, unwilling to pull away for something as trivial as breathing. His hand on her waist clenched as (Y/N) snuck the tip of her tongue out and sampled the curve of his mouth, just as she had seen him do not even ten minutes prior. A soft, choked groan wrapped in Harry's voice melted into her lips. She'd bet that if she opened her eyes in that moment, the dark brows that hovered over the cage of his eyes would be drawn into a pinch, as if he were concentrating on what it felt to finally have her.

"(Y/N)..." Harry murmured against her mouth, drawing away just enough to get the syllables out before he melted into her kiss again.

At the sound of her name floating on the grit of Harry's tone and the breath from his lungs that she was stealing as her own, (Y/N) adjusted her position underneath him. Her thighs split to accommodate the width of his hips, ankles hooking around his calves as he struggled to keep up the precarious hovering game he was doing instead of sinking into her form.

"(Y/N)," he tried again, more girth to the call now as he pulled away just enough to feel the full of his lips brushing against her mouth, "What are we doing?"

She knew what he was asking, but she wasn't sure she had an answer for him.

As far as (Y/N) knew and felt in her heart, this was the culmination of those threads she'd felt since the second week of filming that strung her to him finally unravelling. The knot she'd felt separating them whenever even the ghost of intimacy floated in their vicinity that stopped them from getting closer—whether the interference came in the form of a nosy crew member came pounding on his trailer door, a call time that made their moments together agonizingly short, or even her awareness that came in the form of a blinking reminder that he was her boss, it always won—came apart in tatters. It left nothing but the liquid velvet of the disintegrating tension to melt over her. She was finally getting what she wanted since the first day she was too aware of the shape of his lips and the light that filled his eyes when she greeted him in the morning with coffee and breakfast.

But that wasn't much of an answer when he tugged at her shirt with wandering hands and inky pupils that gazed lazily into her own from centimeters away.

"Anything you want, that's what we're doing," she settled on. It was safe. He got to call the shots and set the pace. (Y/N) would happily take whatever was given, even if it began and ended on this couch with his lips sealed to her own.

A long moment transpired as Harry gazed at her, unfocused eyes matching her own. A breath she hadn't known he was holding flared out from his nose, fanning over her skin just before he'd had enough of the space and pressed his lips to hers in a hungry kiss.

He seemed to like her answer.

(Y/N) followed his cues as he eased her mouth open with his own, his lips capturing her bottom one between his two with a sighing inhale. She chased after him, wanting to taste her the same way he was getting the privilege to do to her. With her hands in his hair and thighs clamped around his hips, she slipped her tongue out and touched at his mouth.

Something akin to a groan bubbled from Harry's throat, his hand on her waist tensing into something almost considered painful if not for the fact (Y/N) was only registering each of his touches with nothing but pleasure. Using his grip on her, he adjusted her to lay completely beneath him, head propped up by the stiff decorative pillow shoved against the armrest of the sofa.

With his body lain almost totally against her, (Y/N) felt each of his breaths that puffed out his chest before the exhale was felt on her face. The training that he had gone through to be fit for the movie role was blatant as she felt each of the packed muscles of his abdomen against her tummy, his thighs strong and thick between her own.

The hand on (Y/N) waist snuck a trail down her side before the hem of her top was revealed and thus moved out of the way by his greedy fingertips.

"How much time do we have?" he breathed against her lips, peeling away just enough to get his words out and for her to form a response.

Harry had a call time of two this afternoon, and it had been one-oh-five when she found herself on the doorstep of his trailer. "A little more than a half hour, I think."

A pleased smile was felt against her lips, something smug woven into the curl. She would have wanted to see if not for the fact she got to feel it.

"That's enough for me."

(Y/N) all but melted into the cushions at his words. He was going to have her worked over in less than a half hour before he was called back to set to play his Oscar-worthy character, her kiss on his lips. That was enough for her, too.

"Please."

That was (Y/N)'s lame response that garnered a deft reaction from Harry that had her positioned on his lap as he now sat back against the sofa, his lap now a chair for her. His now familiar mouth abandoned her lips—her lungs certainly weren't complaining when she realized how oxygen-deprived she was—and worked a trail down her neck and to the shelf of her collarbones. Though her eyes were closed with her head tipped back, (Y/N) knew that if she dared a glance in the mirror to the left of them, she would no doubt see his swollen lips dotting spit-slicked kisses over her skin that would shine in the small light offered through his windows.

"Still doing what I want, right?" Harry murmured, his words were felt more than they were heard.

"Mhm," (Y/N) hummed though she felt dangerously close to a whimper, "Anything."

"Take off your shirt."

As much as his command was direct and swift, it was equal parts soft and compromising. If she said no, there would be no retribution. Though they were playing the game of whatever Harry wanted, the game would be no fun if she wasn't a willing participant that helped him shape the rules.

Her compliance came in the form of her arms crossing over her torso, before her fingers grasped the hem of her top and pulled it over her head to be dropped to the floor. Harry's hands were warm on her now bare waist, though they still elicited a layer of goosebumps to appear on her skin. Her chest heaving inches from his face was enough to draw Harry's eyes from her features and down the expanse of bare skin that now greeted him like the breakfast she offered every morning.

Dipping his head down, Harry continued his game of planting kisses down her chest until he met the swells of her breasts. The paisley print of her bra no longer felt as silly as it did when she was getting dressed this morning—under his attention, she felt sexy now with the swirls accentuating the roundedness of her chest, the curling tips of the print directing him to the cleavage in the middle and the tips of her breasts that pushed against the minimal padding sown into the garment. Harry followed each of those directions, a contented hum when he reached the line of her cleavage before he sunk his chin in and continued pressing kisses down the obscured valley.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in shuddering inhales, the exhales being nothing of a thought when all she wanted was to catch each molecule of Harry's scent that lingered between them. His kissing was enough to make her feel more scatterbrained than any raging director or uppity producer ever could. His hands on her waist traveled as a team up her sides, tracing the form of her ribcage before landing on the sides of her chest. His thumbs curled into the flimsy straps that kept the garment bound to her form.

"May I?" he mumbled, tips of his fingers tugging at the very curve of the cup before it transformed into the nylon straps.

His brows and eyes posed the question more than his mouth did, words muffled by her own skin.

Her response came in the form of a half formed nod, her consent being compounded by the tightening of her hands in his hair. In a moment, the cups of her bra were tugged down and the full of her breasts were revealed as the garment was trampled under Harry's grip.

He didn't waste any time before he flitted his mouth to follow the swells to the tip of her breast, tucking her nipple between his lips. Her deep inhale pushed her chest further into his face, his hand reaching to cradle her other breast in his palm.

His touch was gentle as he slathered his attention over her form, lips kissing and sucking before flitting to another patch of untended-to skin. By the time he was done, his kisses were commemorated in the form of spit-slicked kiss marks, pinched nipples glinting in the light. Harry continued his affection down the line of her stomach, his hands following before he was stopped at her belly button.

"H-Harry," (Y/N) breathed, her voice a lot more broken than she remembered. Her fingers were cramping in his hair, the grip unsurrendering.

Harry hummed against her skin, a slick sound acting as punctuation as he kissed at her tummy one more time before blinking his eyes open and gazing at her. (Y/N)'s hands fell from his hair, following the curve of his neck before landing on the broad of his shoulders.

The fabric felt offensive under her hands. "I want yours off, too," she whispered, fisting the shoulders of his top in her hands. If she could, she would have instead ripped it apart at the seams so he wouldn't have to part from her skin for even a second.

"Yeah?" he smiled, his voice a grumble against her skin. The green of his eyes was outcast to just a ring around his pupils though something tender lingered in his gaze.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, arching her back under the force of his hands as he slid his palms to the small of her back, "Please."

"What else do you want?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his town that she'd never heard before.

"You," she murmured, "Just you." Something about the fact she was saying it out loud allowed for something like a release to filter through her form. She'd never really said that she wanted him; liked him as more than a colleague, a friend she'd made on set. It was liberating in a way that pressed a weight on the center of her stomach and clenched her insides.

It was true, she did want him. She wanted him so bad, and she didn't care how much longer they had in this cramped trailer. She was going to have him.

With his grip on her waist and a satisfied, lazy grin on his lips, Harry tugged her harshly against his lap. Her hips ground against his own, though his lap had something a lot more substantial situated between his thighs. He directed her with his hands, dragging her over the lump of his cock in lazy strokes she hoped to feel more of with less clothing between.

With her breath caught in her throat, Harry took his opportunity to press his lips to her cheek, her jaw, the space just under her ear. "Y'want me? Want this?" Another teasing drag.

The weight in her stomach grow impossibly tight. She couldn't cum from just this, right?

"I-I do, Harry, please," she keened, "Let me touch you."

It seemed Harry had distracted himself in the process of playing with her, her original request of taking his shirt off becoming lost in the sea of rose-scented lust that was overtaking the small trailer. After a single smudged kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth, Harry pulled away reluctantly.

Much like she had done, Harry tucked his fingers into the neckline of his shirt and tossed it away as soon as the fabric cleared his head, joining hers in a Valentine colored pile—pink and red mashed together in the shape of a lopsided heart. Before he had a chance to paste himself back to her skin, (Y/N) stationed her hands on the set of his shoulders, eyes gleaming as she took in the shape of his body. Her hands mimicked her eyes as they trailed down his chest, blocky muscles defined by the tattoos inked onto the tanned skin. Just the very tips of his swallows were concealed with the help of the makeup team, leaving the rest to be completely and totally Harry.

The blocks of his muscles directed her further and further down, the laurel tattoos on his hips acting as a road map that only enticed her along. His arms reached out to encircle her waist though he didn't stop her expedition, only drawing her closer and subsequently over the hardness between his legs. A trail of hair sprouted in between his pectorals before sparsing out until the return of the down came just underneath his belly button. A thin line of dark, curling hair carried her down the line to the waist of his sweats before the hair and the rest of his skin disappeared.

"Having fun?" Harry teased, the curl of his lips heard before (Y/N) saw it.

"Definitely," she decided on the truth, her voice no louder than a whisper. A flick of her gaze through her lashes let her know Harry was much too busy cataloguing the expressions on her face to make much note of what exactly on his body had her gaze so entranced.

Harry seemed pleased by her words as he cut her off with a tug around the curve of her waist, sticking their bare chests together before he captured her lips with his. This round was nothing but sloppy, lazy kisses that came in quick succession. Harry peeled her lips apart with his own, his tongue peeking inside her mouth before disappearing once more. Before (Y/N) could catch up, he had pulled her away.

"Stand up," he said, another compromising demand.

Making room between his legs, (Y/N) helped her on her bambi-esque unsteady legs before he grabbed for the top of her leggings. The material quickly gave way under his fingers though Harry was slow with his movements until he looked up at her in that questioning way that let her know she had more than one choice in that moment.

Once a small nod was given, Harry stripped her of her leggings in a quick series of tugs that left her to step out of the puddle of fabric at her ankles and a white thong nestled against her modesty.

From his seated position, Harry helped her kick her pants to the Valentines scramble of clothing on the floor before he planted his lips against her skin. The entire waistline of her thong was imprinted with the shape of his lips as he dragged them over her skin. Once he was satisfied on that front, Harry slipped his hands to settle on her hips, palms covering the hem of her underwear as he descended upon her thighs. The curls of his hair tickled her skin, the slightest of touches felt through her panties as he took his time commemorating her skin.

At the feel of his teeth glimpsing her hip, a sharp touch that was quickly soothed by his tongue, (Y/N) let out a wobbly call of his name before planting her hands on his shoulders for balance.

Her eyes had closed without permission, (Y/N) only noticing when she felt Harry heave a sigh before his forehead was felt against her hip bone and his breath fanned out over her freshly kissed skin. Looking down, all she was granted with was a view of the swirling curls on the top of his head, messed up by her own fingers though the memory of the act was hazy.

Chancing a look into the mirror to the side of them, (Y/N) found herself stood on a pair of legs she didn't quite feel in that moment, hips cupped by a hair of hands she'd seen every day for the last month and a half though they looked alien pasted to her skin. Her chest heaved in breaths that were laborious, her bra askew on her form, the twisted straps and mangled cups mimicking that of her hair. But, the real draw was Harry's reflection.

His eyes were closed as he lent his forehead into the soft of her tummy, lashes curling outward as if they ached to touch her as much as the rest of him did. The straight line of his nose was warped as he whispered something to himself, raspberry lips wrapping around the silent words that (Y/N) only felt the ghost of against her skin. His shoulders were cradled in her own palms, fingertips making small dents in the muscle.

(Y/N) watched in the reflection as a decision seemed to be made in split second, Harry's hands abandoning her hips as they rounded her body and landed on the back of her thighs, thumbs pressing into the crease just under her ass.

"C'mere," he grumbled, tugging her with his new vantage points on her thighs.

She broke her gaze from the mirror, instead opting to look at the real thing. Harry's jaw looked especially sharp with the way he looked up at her before she dropped into his lap, the middle of her panties situated directly over the bulge in his sweats. His hands disappeared from her form though she was quickly distracted by his swollen mouth that was now sealed over her own.

"I wish I could take m'time with you, (Y/N)," he murmured into the kiss, a brush of his knuckles felt along her inner thigh, "And I will next time, darling, I promise. But, we don't have lots of time, do we? Gotta make y'cum before I go back out there."

The promise of a next time rattled her so much that she almost missed the petname that drawled from his lips, the first time she had heard him call her anything other than her own name.

(Y/N)'s back bowed as she curled into him, cutting off his kiss as she cushioned her head in the crook of his shoulder. His chest became her safe space as she keened into him. "I want you, anything you'll give me. Please, H."

It was when her lips brushed against his neck as she spoke that she realized just how close she was to the thrumming of his pulse. Pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot, she reveled in the fact his heart was racing just like her own. That knot she had blamed as the entity separating them now became a velvet bow that wrapped around her and tethered them together.

"Gotta do something for me then," he murmured, his own head dipping down and pressing a chaste kiss to her available shoulder, "Can y'reach my bag behind you?"

"Hm?" she hummed, confusion etching her brows together.

A huff of a laugh flared from his nostrils and over her exposed skin. When had it gotten so hot in here? Her skin was on fire and his breath chilled the sheen of sweat that covered her.

"I've got a condom in m'bag, I just need y'to grab it for me," Harry explained, a tint of amusement in his voice.

(Y/N) let out a small oh, at his words. Unfurling herself from his form was enough of a task that she didn't know if she was going to be able to reach away from him towards the duffle that laid behind her. But, if she had any hope of getting even closer to him, she was going to have to do it.

With Harry bracing the small of her back with his palms, she reached towards the army green duffle he lugged to set every day. Her fingers caught on the strap before she hauled it over to him. One arm of his wrapped around her waist, securing her to his lap while the other made quick work of unzipping the clasp.

"Do you always keep condoms in here?" (Y/N) asked, watching as he knew exactly which pocket to unzip before a square of foil was in hand.

A lopsided smile took him on his lips as he looked at her through his lashes. As quick as he had it, Harry tossed his duffle back to the floor, adding to the mess of his trailer. "Not until the day y'played with my hair and almost kissed me in here."

An astonished laugh made it way through (Y/N)'s throat. "And that was enough to make you think we were going to have sex?"

A half shrug was offered. "I think I was hoping more than anything. Worked out jus' fine in m'opinion."

She couldn't really argue with that.

Not much else was to be said when (Y/N) felt a brush of Harry's fingers between her thighs with the edge of the condom wrapper tickling the sensitive skin. When she glance between them, she found Harry had tugged the waist of his sweats down before pulling his cock out. Any kind of underwear line was missing. The whole time they had been reading lines and kissing and doing anything to get closer, he hadn't had a single thing on under his pants. The thought made (Y/N) sweat.

His hand wrapped around the thick of his shaft, the mushroom head glazed in a layer of precum that shone in the light. Harry groaned at the contact, a deep noise that both relaxed his shoulders while also winding the muscles in his forearms tight. (Y/N) did her best to guess what it was going to feel like when he sunk himself inside her, but she only managed to further soak her panties when she realized that just as they sat, the head of him reached just below her belly button.

As much as she could tell he was pandering for any kind of release of the pressure bunching his stomach, Harry didn't waste time as he rolled the condom over his length. Only a cursory stroke of his fist was granted to ensure the rubber fit him as needed.

"Hold your panties to the side for me, darling," Harry instructed, a compromise in his eyes.

No compromise was needed as (Y/N) readily plucked the soaked middle of her panties to the side, exposing her wetness to the warmth of Harry's gaze and beams of peaking sunlight. His arm on her back stiffened, a gentle tug that drew her closer. Something that sounded like a curse fell from his lips, but (Y/N) couldn't process much after she felt the first bump of his head against her clit.

"Oh, m—" (Y/N) choked, her exclamation ceasing when Harry's lips made contact with her own.

"Shhh, shhh," he hushed her, his hand an unrelenting weight that positioned her perfectly over his cock, "I know, but we've got to be quiet. Only have a little more time with you, don't I? Don't want anyone snooping around and cutting this short, right?"

"Right, right," she nodded, feeling something close to panic at the thought of another Meredith stripping of her this moment, "Sorry, I'll be quiet."

A pleased smile was felt against her lips. "Not too quiet. I need to know 'm doing good, still."

She could do that, she figured, she could definitely let him know how good she was feeling and that she was already planning the next time he offered. Harry smiled when she told him as much (minus the next time mention, she didn't want to get too ahead of herself though she was sure that idea ran away the send she let her winged heart out of its cage).

"Ready?" Harry prompted, his arm around her waist falling to land his hand on her hip in a steadying grip she hoped would leave bruises on her skin.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, nodding her head, wild tendrils of hair fluttering at the motion.

"Hang onto me, darling," he murmured, waiting until her arms were comfortably wrapped around his neck before he tugged her down with his gentle grip.

The head of his cock nudged at her opening, her slickness kissing at him and clinging to him. A shaky breath was exhaled through Harry's nose, enough to flare his nostrils and make (Y/N)'s thighs clench. She moved with him despite the fact the weight in her stomach wound her muscles even tighter the closer she drew to his form.

She was stretched around the girth of his head before she felt him clear her entrance with a tight pop, the ridges of her walls sucking him in the more of his length her fed to her. A breathless call of his name fell from (Y/N)'s lips, a shameless whine that she hoped let him know how good this was for her already.

"Relax, darling, relax," he coaxed through gritted teeth, his grip on her hips demanding. His now free hand came up to flutter around the small of her back, bracing her as she sunk lower and lower onto his prick. "Shit, (Y/N)."

Harry's head fell to her shoulder once he bottomed out, (Y/N) seated on his lap with nothing separating them. He sucked in deep breathes before they were exhaled against her skin, his curls tickling her neck.

She hadn't meant to, but (Y/N) felt her walls flutter around him the longer he sat unmoving, a silent call to please, do something. Another round of curses with her name tucked between was smeared over her skin before one of the hands stationed on her waist slipped lower and found the apex of her slit and the small pearl tucked between her folds.

"Bounce on me, darling," Harry murmured to her, "I'll help, jus'—jus' need to see y'do it for me first."

The first brush of his thumb over her clit jolted (Y/N) enough to kickstart her rhythm. With her back arched and panties to the side, she used the tense of her muscles to her advantage and rocked herself over his cock. Tentative lifts of her hips were integrated once she became used to his size, used to the nudging deep in her stomach, pulling him a little more than halfway out before she dropped back down and swallowed him whole. Every time she sunk down, Harry made an accompanying brush of his thumb over her clit, a reward for being so strong for him and riding him like he asked.

His head nudged far at the back of her walls, the veins brushing her ridges as if to emulate the grazing of his thumb on her clit, pushing for more and more of her breathless, quiet moans to spill from her mouth. The pulsing of his cock could be felt inside her, echoing against her snugness in its own tease. An area she had only ever reached in her own lonely sessions in bed, was taken hostage of with the help of his thickness brushing her walls in unrelenting runs. Each bounce of her hips allowed another graze of his tip against her g-spot, shudders wracking through her body every time.

They played this game a while longer with Harry pressing kisses to her chest and neck before he paused to look at where he was entering her. (Y/N) kept her promise and tried to stay quiet, but every once in a while, a call of his name was loud enough to warrant a shushing from her lover before he pulled her in for a silencing kiss.

"K-Keep going, darling," he told her, his grip on her hip intensifying just like the weight in her stomach, "I'll help in a second, jus'—jus' want y'to get close like me first."

It was then that (Y/N) chanced a look at him, the mention of him being close, enough to wrench her eyes open from where she had her head thrown back towards the ceiling. As promised, he showed all the signs that she felt in her own body. His abdomen was pulled taut, muscles straining in his arms with tendons and veins making appearances in the same moment she felt his fingers flex around her form. His face was flush with a red blush, a dewy sheen over his cheeks. Hair and makeup was going to have a fit when they saw him after this.

Underneath her, Harry's hips jerked and thrusted upwards. "Told y'to keep going, darling," Harry grumbled, throwing his head back to loll over the couch cushions, "Don't stop now. Can feel y'getting there, right?"

In her haze of examining him, (Y/N) hadn't realized she stopped her bouncing to only give him rolls of her hips. Resuming her pace, she felt the assistance of his hand on her waist lifting her before the snap of his hips meet her halfway. All the while, tight circles were traced onto her clit in strokes that made her thoughts make less and less sense.

"S-Sorry," she stuttered, "You're just so-so—I couldn't stop look-king at you. Don't want to forget this."

"Not gonna give you a chance to, darling," Harry murmured, rushing forward and planting kisses along the line of her jaw, "Gonna do this again and again, y'won't have enough time to forget. Next time, 'm gonna have hours to make y'feel good. Gonna—fuck—Gonna have y'in a real bed yelling m'name as loud as y'want. Never gonna forget me."

(Y/N)'s hands on his shoulders didn't do much in the way of steadying her anymore now that she had his promises lingering in her head. She wasn't going to last much longer; not with the thrusting of his hips, the touching to her clit, and the words murmured into her skin. She wasn't going to be able to fend off the weight in her tummy anymore.

"H-Harry, Harry," she stuttered, his name making more sense than anything else in her head, "I'm gonna cum—oh my god."

"Give me one more kiss, darling, c'mere. That's all I need," he shuddered, his hips lagging for just a second before picking up the pace, "then I want you to cum with me."

Her hands on his shoulders made quick work of landing on his cheeks, jaw cupped in her palms. Tipping her chin, (Y/N) pressed her lips to his in the dance they now had down like second-nature. Though it was her turn to get a taste, no longer following after him in a chase before he cut the game short. The bounce of her hips and the snaps of his own under her didn't lend to the most stable kiss in history, but (Y/N) still managed to slip her tongue past the defenses of his mouth the touch over his own. He played with her then, responding to her call with gusto.

Harry's hand on her hip tightened, his thumb on her clit now working at a lightning pace. "Cum with me, darling. Need to feel y'cum around me; give me what I want."

This demand didn't sound as comprising as the ones in the past. He wanted her to stick to her word and do anything he wanted right now, and he wanted her to cum.

So, she did.

(Y/N) felt her form crumble under the force of the unraveling weight in her stomach. Her body felt wound unbelievably tight despite the fact she'd never felt more relaxed than in that moment, ease lapping over her in waves that were Harry scented. His touch was the only thing that kept her grounded; his hips between her thighs, his cock snug inside her, unrelenting hand on her hip and thumb on her clit, all the while his mouth was sealed to hers. Her body clenched and released around him, drawing him deeper and deeper despite the fact there wasn't much else Harry could go.

But, that seemed to be enough to set Harry's own release off. Warmth filled her through the condom as his form shook under her. It was him who cut off the kiss though he only managed to get far enough away to tuck his face into her neck and smatter soft kisses to the skin in between coos of her name and whispers of curses. All the while he held her.

Once the squeeze in her lungs lessened and (Y/N) realized just how much like jelly her legs felt, she curled into his form. Aftershocks came in the form of half shudders down her spine and teasing clenches of her pussy around his softening cock.

"Harry?"

"Give me a minute." His voice was a breathless grumble, the baritone vibrating her skin more than she heard him.

She unfurled in that moment she gave him, her arched back relaxing before she slumped into Harry. Her arms slipped down his form until she hit his middle. She wrapped him in a hug, their bare skin pressed against one another. Harry mimicked her movements, abandoning her hip and between her legs to loop his arms around her waist and keep her close to his chest.

God, she hoped they really got a next time. If not for the mind-hazing, vision-robbing, lung-squeezing orgasm, then for this.

Out of nowhere, (Y/N) felt a huff of a laugh exhaled into her neck. Then another. And another. Before long, Harry was laughing with a smile pressed into her skin, sounding just as exhausted as she felt.

"I can't believe we did that. And before anyone's had to come looking for us," he mumbled, the tip of his nose wiggling against the curve of her throat.

Had everything that transpired really taken less than forty-five minutes to get her here?

The thought made (Y/N) laugh, too.

"Or, everyone saw your trailer shaking and though they'd come back another time," (Y/N) offered, drawing back just enough to indulge herself in the sight of his dimples and soft-lipped smile, "If that's the case, then we're fucked."

"Yeah, we are fucked." Harry laughed even harder, dropping his head to her bare shoulder.

With the help of his huffed laughter, a set of goosebumps broke out across (Y/N)'s skin, a tickling shudder working down her spine.

After pressing a delicate kiss to her skin, Harry reached blindly behind him and grabbed for the blanket hanging off the back of his sofa. The same one that had been draped over him the day she played with his hair and Harry decided there could be something more between them.

"You're cold," he mumbled as he wrapped the cover around he two of them, (Y/N) still situated on his lap and his cock soft inside her.

"Thank you," she said, snuggling deeper into his hold as they shared the warmth of the blanket.

(Y/N) closed her eyes as she finally relaxed into him, the panic of lust no longer taking from the fact that holding and being held by him was enough. Her hand that had been splayed over his back rounded to his front where (Y/N) stroked over his heated skin in what she hoped was soothing runs over his skin.

She only made a few passes before her hand was captured in Harry's. He brought it to his mouth, a tender kiss pressed to the knuckles before he brushed them over his cheek.

"Would y'want to go to dinner with me Friday?"

She hoped he could feel the smile stretching across her face as her cheek pressed into his chest. "I'd love to."

That velvet bow that bound them together tightened in that moment, the ribbon thicker than even the real blanket draped over their forms. (Y/N) didn't know how much time they had left before someone would come looking for them, but she was happy this was how she was going to spend those last minutes with Harry before venturing into the real world.

"I really lucked out with you, didn't I?"

His voice wasn't much more than a whisper but (Y/N) heard it like a shout.

As she sunk into his hold, (Y/N) didn't know which was more gratifying: the affectionate words that now dripped over her in a new context, or the knowledge that there was forever going to be a movie out there crediting her as his assistant?

He was right in that she'd never forget him.

—————

ahhhhhh!!!! ever since that pic came out up top ive been trying to figreout when id have time to write something about working w him on a movie set and im jsut !!!! hes s!!!!!! thank u all sm for reading and sorry if theres any mistakes!! if you have any ideas or requests of ur own please send them in !

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heartysworld · 2 years ago

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Three years || Daemon Targaryen x Reader

A/N: I don't know how to feel about this one, I really liked the idea but I think I could've done it way better, anyways I might redo it soon. I hope you enjoy! <3

"Y/N!" A voice that hasn't been heard in the Red Keep for years now echoed around its walls.

Daemon strode through the big hallways in search for his wife who he had not seen in almost three years since he left to fight a war on his own. "Y/N!" Once again.

During this period of time he had heard nothing of his beloved,no letters no news. As if she had disappeared from the face of earth.

He let out another angry shout when a small voice interrupted him with a scold.

"Who are you? And why are you yelling?" A voice said from behind Daemon.

He turned around, eyes falling on a little girl standing a few feet away from him. The little one was clutching a wooden dragon toy in one hand while rubbing her sleepy eyes with the other one. Her silver hair was all over the place, probably from sleeping. Daemon's brows furrowed at the child. Whose daughter was this?

"Well hello there, little lady. May I ask what your name is?" The Prince said, crouching down to the same eye level as the little girl. He let out a small smile on his face, trying to avoid scaring her away without answers to his questions.

"My name is Daemyra, who are you? My mama said not to talk to strangers." She mumbled, a yawn escaping her mouth.

At the sound of the name Daemon felt shivers run down his spine. Daemyra, a name you had mentioned wanting to give to a child of yours one day. Could it be...? Daemon though. His mind slowly filled with thousands different thoughts. Was this child his? How old was she? Have you been unfaithful to him during his absence?

As thoughts raced around his mind, the little girl's eyes fell on something behind him, making her squeal and run towards its direction.

"Mama!" Daemyra shouted with excitement, running towards the woman.

"My love, what are you doing there? Come here right this instant!" You said while she ran towards you.

At the sound of your voice Daemon completely froze,unable to move from his position.

"I woke up to this man yelling mama! Who is this?" Your daughter asked as she leaned on your shoulder now,nestled securely in your arms.

You looked at the man she was talking about, he was now up on his feet facing you. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of your husband in front of you. His hair now short, something different in his face from his long absence.

"Daemon?" You whispered, your feet felt like they were stone,heavy and unmovable.

"Y/N." Daemon said in response, taking a slow step towards you,his eyes still on the little child on your arms.

"Oh Daemon." You said sobbing as you ran towards him. The second you were close enough your free arm went around his neck, pulling him closer to your body. The mere presence of his was something you have been craving for over three years now.

"I have missed you so much,my love." You said, pressing your forehead to his. He placed a small kiss on your lips, still not fully able to process everything that had just happened.

"Y/N, whose child is this?" Was the first thing he asked, pushing away your arm that held his neck.

"Daemon...this is Daemyra, our daughter." You answered his question, looking at the girl in your arms who was now staring back at her father, their piercing violet eyes not looking away from the other one.

"Our daughter...?" Daemon asked,his voice quiet.

"Yes,my love, our daughter. Her third name day was just a few weeks ago. Oh Daemon you have no idea how hard it has been for us. After you left... everything got so much worse than it was." You started explaining.

Three years have passed since your last contact with your husband before he left. When Daemon rode away Caraxes none of you knew he had left something else behind except you, his wife. Months later,you found yourself swollen with his child and unable to inform him of the joyous occasion.

"I have a daughter...and you did not have the decency to ever sent a messenger to me? To tell me I had a child on the way? Or when she was born? Am I nothing to you,Y/N?!" Daemon voice roared.

Thank Gods there was no one present beside you. He continued his angry speech,not letting you speak even once.

Anger started bubbling inside your own being, he was being irrational, thinking of the worst without giving you a chance to explain.

"BECAUSE, DAEMON!" You yelled even louder, stopping his spitting "Because the moment your brother found I was with child,he forbade me from ever leaving the quarters of the Red Keep...a punishment for your disobeying... I was left alone in our chambers until I gave birth, nobody was on my side,I was helpless, Daemon, nothing could leave the palace without the King's approval. You left us Daemon, but you have no fault,just as I don't." You said, finally spilling out everything that had happened for the past years.

With teary eyes you looked at your husband, awaiting his response. Daemon just stood in front of you, speechless.

"If you don't believe me..." You started to say again but couldn't finish.

Your husband was hugging you tightly,one of his hands caressing your daughter's soft hair while Daemon's had his eyes closed.

"Dada?" Daemyra said, breaking the silence.

Daemon's sight fell on his daughter once again, now alongside a wide smile.

"Hello,my daughter." He said, leaning to press a kiss on her forehead. Daemon's chest was full of a feeling he had only felt with one other person,you- his wife. It was love and adoration,strong and passionate like no other feeling.

"Come with me, inside the room. Now!" You demanded, pushing his body towards your daughter's chambers, locking the doors behind you.

Your daughter started squirming in your hands, demanding to be put down. As her feet touched the cold floor she ran towards her father, pulling on his pants.

"Pick up, dada,now!" She demanded, making you chuckle.

Daemon smiled at her as he picked her up. Her little hands immediately went around his neck as she hugged him.

"You are something else,little dragon." He said as he looked at her.

"I have missed you,dada, mama too. She cries for you." Daemyra said, exposing your secret.

"She does?" Her father asked her,his eyes moving to your form again. Your eyes were still teary, nodding at him.

"You're finally back to us,my love. Please don't leave us again." You said, moving to stand next to him,one of your arms sneaked around his waist as you leaned on his strong body.

With one hand Daemon held your daughter while his free one took a hold of your chin, making you look at him.

His lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss,one that has beening awaited for three years now. His mouth moved against yours,tongue swiping across your bottom lip. A disgusted yell from your daughter broke you apart, making both you and Daemon laugh at her reaction.

"You have given me daughter." Daemon whispered,his forehead leaning on yours,lips inches away.

"Just as we dreamed of. A little princess for us to love and cherish, but your brother had to ruin our lives." You said with a soft tone in the beginning only to finish your words with a harsh snap.

"My brother will pay for all he's done to our family, but now,I just wish to be by your side and our daughter's. I have missed three years of her life, I plan on doing no such thing ever again. I make that vow today to you,my wife." Daemon said.

You missed him dearly with all your being during his absence, the love and happiness you felt right now were stronger than anything else,but still, there was the hatred and anger towards Viserys, for breaking your family apart. He was going to pay for it and will not know where it came from.

As the years passed Daemon reconnected with his family he had missed so dearly. Daemyra was stuck to him at all times, wherever her father went she followed right after. The two spend most of their time in the Dragonpit while your daughter was learning how to be a dragonrider for the dragon she had claimed not long after her father's return. The King's health was slowly getting worse, nobody being able to find out the cause. At first you though it was your husband who has done something, gotten someone to put poison in his wine,but Daemon was just as confused as you. It turned out being the Iron Throne what took your brother-in-law to the grave, Viserys had cut himself on the throne not once, resulting in the wounds not healing and spreading around his body in the form of rotten flesh. His doing was slowly pulling him down to his grave as a revenge to what he had done years ago.

Taglist

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#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #house targaryen #house of the dragon spoilers #game of thrones #prince daemon targaryen #houseofthedragonedit #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon x rhaenyra #dance of the dragons #dragons #mother of dragons #criston cole

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murdocksdaughter · 2 years ago

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i love you ( jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader)

a/n: i promised this fic last night. hahaha i lied but here y’all go love you besties

warning: none. just sappy!jacaerys yeah thats it.

summary: jacaerys finally confesses his feelings at the oddest hour

word count: 1.4k

Jacaerys had never told Y/n he loves her. 'I love you' were scary words. They held so much weight; the words felt heavy on Jacaerys’ tongue just by thought. He wanted to say it so badly, Jacaerys yearned to tell Y/n.

The idea consumed every thought he had. His mind drifted to Y/n constantly- she was everything he’d want in a woman and Jacaerys wanted to tell her. He’d get on his knees to tell her if he had to.

However, no moment with her felt right. Jacaerys wanted everything to be perfect when he told her.

And in his eyes, Y/n was utterly flawless and deserved nothing less. He’s thought about how the moment would go in his mind a million times. Jacaerys became so nervous that his heart would race and hands would clam up. Y/n made him nervous in a way no others did.

Jacaerys laid awake thinking once again of his betrothed. Her voice played in his head like a soft melody and he could feel his heart squeezing as he stared at the canopy of his bed.

Continuing to stare at the canopy, Jacaerys toyed with his sheets. He rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers the more he thought of his betrothed. Every small detail from the way she ran her fingers on the table whenever she first sits down to how she rubs the fabric of her dress sleeve, it plagued his mind.

Jacaerys felt embarrassed of himself.

He was so enamored by Y/n and yet he couldn’t say three simple words. They intimidated him. The Prince of all of Westeros was scared of three little words. Out of everything in the realm- three simple words scared him the most. Not war, death, not even his mother’s wrath when she had a particularly hard day scared him the way saying ‘I love you’ did.

It was pathetic.

Perhaps it was the consequences of saying it. What if she didn’t feel the same? He was so scared of her rejecting him. And he knew that she had every right to. Jacaerys knew that he wasn’t entitled to her love. But just because he was a prince of the realm and heir to the throne didn't mean he lacked respect. He tried his hardest to act with the highest honor. However, he is still just a man who has wants and he so badly wants her to love him the way he loves her.

He wanted that storybook romance from the books he read as a child. The perfect ideal romance. And perhaps he was naïve in that desire but he didn’t care.

Jacaerys rolled to his side pulling his blanket up to his chin. He had hoped that soon sleep would pull him away from his nagging thoughts. But like hangnails to fabric, Jacaerys’ mind gets caught in its' own web of complicated thoughts.

Insecurities filled just his mind. Jacaerys whispered a small curse and pulled the blanket further covering his head. Trying his best to hide away from the world and with that it’s problems. All he wanted was some sleep.

Then there was a small knock on his door.

Jacaerys’ eyes almost rolled to the back of his head. He sat up pulling the blanket off his head. “Come in,” he called out fixing his mess hair.

The door opened revealing Y/n, his betrothed.

“I apologize for interrupting your sleep, My betrothed,” Y/n closed the door behind her. “However I couldn’t sleep and I wondered if I could have your company?” she asked.

Jacaerys straightened his posture after Y/n’s question. “Of course, you weren’t interrupting anything, I couldn't fall asleep myself,” Jacaerys beckoned her to sit with him.

Y/n smiled as she sat down in front of the prince with an exhausted sigh. “What is keeping you up, my lady?” Jacaerys asked, grasping Y/n’s hand and rubbing small, soothing circles on the back of her hand.

She looked at Jacaerys eyes drooping slightly- signaling to the woman he was tired. “I just feel so awake,” Y/n replied, falling back in the bed looking up at the canopy.

Jacaerys smiled at Y/n, she looked so beautiful laying there with her hair spread out. “Why is that?” he asked. She sighed, her eyes bouncing around from corner to corner on the canopy.

“You know sometimes there are nights where you just can’t sleep. You just feel so awake at such odd hours.” Y/n rambled as she rubbed at one her eyes.

Jacaerys laughed, his hands coming to toy with her sprawled out hair. “I suppose I can relate to that at times,” Jacaerys replied.

Y/n smiled at his touch as her gaze focused on him. “Why are you awake? Do you just feel awake or is there something else keeping you up?” she asked.

Jacaerys' heart skipped a beat at this question. How does he tell his betrothed that she is the subject to his never ending thoughts? A blush rose on Jacaerys’ face He laughed weakly and looked off to the side. “I don’t know? Just a reoccurring nagging thought, nothing special.”

“Would you like to talk it out? Maybe that’ll help you.” Y/n asked, her hand reached up to run her fingers through his brown hair. Jacaerys was so thankful for the dimness of the room as Y/n couldn’t see how his face got redder.

Jacaerys shook his head, “No, no need I don’t want to bore you with my thoughts,” he brushed her off.

“Bore me with your thoughts?” Y/n asked rhetorically. “You never bore me and even if you did at least it’d send me to sleep,” she smiled at him warmly.

Jacaerys nervously laughed. He looked at Y/n- her eyes had the smallest glimmer in them from the candle, her hair had a small halo around, her skin a shine too, she glowed. Y/n looked so perfect. Jacaerys could feel his heart strings pull and his stomach flutter. This was perfect. Everything Jacaerys was stressed about simply disappeared.

“I love you.”

His eyes widened as it spilled from his lips. Without any thought or reason, Jacaerys had said it. His body tensed back up, afraid of what Y/n's reaction would be.

“I love you too.”

The tight feeling that had built up in Jacaerys melted instantly after hearing those words. All his fears vanished. However he stared at her, shocked at her reply.

“You love me?” he asked in disbelief. Y/n nodded like it was obvious.

“Yes, of course I love you.” she responded in a matter of fact tone. “I’ve been in love with you for what feels like an eternity.” Y/n continued.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Jacaerys asked.

Y/n looked sheepily to the side, “I didn’t think you’d return my feelings.”

Jacaerys scoffed at her response. “You’re truly a wonderful woman, it's an honor to have your affection. Why wouldn’t I return your feelings?”

“I…well…well why didn’t you tell me earlier?? You’re the man, what stopped you??” Y/n asked with a faux accusatory tone trying to turn the spotlight of conversation away from herself. Jacaerys opens his mouth trying to find the words to protest. He had nothing. He could argue against Y/n.

Jacaerys closes his mouth and shakes his head. “You’d laugh if I told you,” he whispered. Y/n grabbed his hand and moved closer to Jacaerys.

“It surely can’t be worse than my reason,” she said in a similar tone. Her free hand went to his hair once more, running her fingers through it.

Jacaerys leaned into her touch. “I was afraid of saying it,” he whispers in an unintelligible voice. Y/n grimaced, she felt bad that she couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Jace what did you say?”

Jacaerys toyed with the end of his sleep shirt. “I said I was afraid of saying it…I was afraid of saying I love you.”

Y/n smiled, trying her best to hold back laughter. Jacaerys groaned, “I knew it! I knew you would laugh!”

“I apologize, I apologize, I’m sorry.” Y/n giggled out. Jacaerys fell forward into his bed groaning even louder.

“Jace…”

“Mhmmmm,”

“Jacaerys.”

“Mhmmmmmm.”

Y/n grabbed Jacaerys by his shoulders, “I apologize. It’s not funny whatsoever,” she said with a small smile. Jacaerys looked at her with a sulking face. Y/n just smiled. He smiled back and pulled her into his side.

Y/n relaxed, taking in his natural scent of burnt wood and cinnamon. “I love you,” she muttered. The smile on Jacaerys’ face grew bigger.

“I love you too,” he replied, his heart fluttering as he said it.

A comfortable silence fell with the couple and Y/n relaxed further into her prince. Jacaerys rested his head on Y/n’s. He felt content, as peace and exhaustion started to settle in. And with an arm around Y/n, Jacaerys fell asleep happy knowing he finally said it.

He said ‘I love you’.

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon imagines #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #house of the dragon #hotd one shot #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagines #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon oneshot #fanfic #hotd x y/n #hotd x you

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goldenempyrean · 2 years ago

Text

Rekindled Love

Oh my god. This fic. I love it so much. Lil bit of angsty ex’s to lovers. It turns so soft at the end though! Hopefully everyone enjoys, please let me know what you think ;)

Summary; Natasha Romanoff was your ex. The mere sight of her on its own was enough to piss you off but after finding her alone, it became obvious that maybe your love for her hadn’t ever truly gone away.

Wordcount: 2550

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Your relationship with Natasha was well… It was rocky to say the least. The both of you could silently sit in a room together and yet still find a way to piss each other off. That’s probably why your previous relationship with her had ended with a hell of a lot of screaming and tears. You supposed had felt love for her at one point but now, even just looking at her was enough to cause a pit of anger to boil in your stomach.

You would’ve been more then happy to have never spoken to her ever again. Not after what happened. But it wasn’t just like you could get up and leave. Your friends were here in New York and more-importantly so was your job. You were still an Avenger after all.

It was that your role as an Avenger which had resulted in you meeting Natasha in the first place. You’d been sent on a mission together all those years ago. The mission which had started everything. The mission which had set a train track for your love. There had once been a time where you two had become inseparable. Soulmates. And through the blood, sweat and tears, the pair of you had fallen hard for each other along the way, going on to morph into the Avengers greatest strategic fighting duo. What was that old saying again? The bigger they are they harder they fall? Well you’d both fell pretty damn hard alright, the painful-irony of your situation wasn’t lost on you either.

The team had done their best to keep the two of you separated for the main part but alas. You lived in the same building, you were bound to run into each-other in one way or another. There was a constant overhanging tension whenever the pair of you had to be together, it was suffocating. Your fuse was at its end. That was probably why you had snapped so hard at her that day.

You hummed as you walked through the hall down towards the training room. You had been completely in your own world when suddenly you felt the stumble of a body knocking straight into your chest. You scowled, recognising that fiery hair anywhere.

“Fuck Natasha, watch where you’re going.” You hissed aggressively as she stumbled backwards, looking stunned. She had sweat dripping down her face, obviously having just finished a workout of her own.

Natasha scoffed snapping back around to look at you with angry eyes, “How about you watch it. It’s not my fault that you’re in the way.” She grumbled before turning her head away to discreetly clear her throat.

Her statement infuriated you, “Get over yourself Natash-“

You were just about ready to rip into her when she had interrupted you, turning her as she muffled a chesty painful-sounding cough into her upper-sleeve. If you hadn’t had been so pissed at her then maybe you would’ve been slightly concerned for her.

Though you were mad, you couldn’t quite force yourself to lay into her for simply coughing, instead you gave a loud huff and continued, “Get over yourself, it was your fault Romanoff. You walked into me. Accept it. Now go shower or something.”

“Get out of my way then.” Nat growled as she shoved past you, however to your surprise,, her shove had been weak. It was barely enough force to move you aside, certainly not a show of strength from the ‘Black Widow’. Plus you had been pretty sure that you’d seen her stumble afterwards from the corner of your eye. Weird…

Whatever. It was none of your business, not that you cared anyway. You had a workout to attend too. You simply rolled your eyes and reached into your pocket to pull out your headphones before making your way towards the training room.

And roughly an hour or so later you had finished your workout. Punching things had always made you feel somewhat better, it was something about the release of pent-up energy that calmed you down. All you needed now was a shower and a good lunch to fill you up. Maybe then you’d be able to enjoy the rest of your day in peace, especially with tonights movie night.

The Avengers held movie nights weekly, Tony thought it was something which brought the team together and well he wasn’t wrong. It was the one time where all problems were left at the door and people were able to fully enjoy their night. Of course there was always tension between you and Nat but it always seemed a little less on these nights. To keep things fair, movies were picked by a different team member every week and tonight was your night.

You had been lost in thought, trying to think of a good pick as you made your way into the changing room. You lifted up your arms and pulled off your sweaty vest-top, throwing in onto a bench before going over to your locker and pulling out a fresh towel and a clean pair of clothes which you laid on the bench ready for when you returned post-shower.

You hurried took off the rest of your gym clothes and make your way into the shower. Stepping inside, you almost jumped out of your skin, dropping the bottle of shampoo which you had been holding loosely in your hand.

Slumped on the floor, leaning against the wall of the shower was that familiar redhead. Her eyes closed. The shower above her had gone off but her body was damp and pale as it leant limply against the tiled wall, her redhair hanging in wet curls aside her face.

“Shit-“ You swore as you fumbled with your hand and rapidly brought it up to cover your eyes.

You looked away, keeping your hand over your eyes, totally unsure of what to do. Why was she there? Had she fallen asleep? Just how long had she been there? Your head was filled with about a hundred different questions as you called her name, however no response came, infact the entire changing room was silent aside from the rhythmic drip of a distant tap.

What were you meant to do? You couldn’t just leave her there but you really didn’t want to violate her privacy. Especially considering the two of you weren’t exactly civil at the best of times. You may have hated her publicly but you still held some respect for her. Thinking fast, you tried your best to keep your head turned away from her as you knelt down and took the towel which you had previously had been used to wrap around yourself, instead using it to cover her with.

Once you were positive that you had properly covered her. You turned back to face her and now that you were able to get a proper look at her, you realised that she looked dreadful. You quickly ran out to get yourself some clothes, pulling on the sweats you had left out on the bench before rushing back in.

“Romanoff.” You said shakily, as you got onto your knees beside her, your voice was barely loudly then a whisper.

No response. She didn’t even stir. You huffed and gently raised a hand and shook her shoulder lightly, raising your voice this time, “Natasha. I need you to wake up.”

You shook her again for a moment before a garbled groan came from the woman beside you as she slowly came too.

You released a breath which you hadn’t realised you were holding as she woke.

“Jesus Romanoff. You scared the crap outta me.” You sighed with relief as she blinked wearily, “What on earth are you playing at?”.

“Im fine.” She grumbled, rubbing her fist against her eye.

You couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, “For a trained spy, you’re a shit liar Natasha. Passing out in the shower isn’t the behaviour of somebody who is ‘fine’.”

She sniffled and pushed herself upright, “I just got tired ‘n’ dizzy, that’s all.” She mumbled as she pulled the towel tightly around her.

You were shocked at her honestly. You wanted to scream at her for her irresponsibility, all while wanting to throw aside your feelings and pull her into your arms. To your heavy displeasure, you were finding it increasingly difficult to stay pissed at her in that moment of time.

“Well, dizzy or not, taking naps on the floor of the communal showers isn’t beneficial for anybody.” You smirked at your own joke and pushed yourself up from the floor, thinking for a moment before offering her your outstretched hand.

Natasha looked up at you for second , seeming to think about it herself before accepting your hand. Allowing you to pull you from the cold tile floor. You looked away as she stood, turning your back on her.

“You need to get some warm clothes on and dry that hair. You’re gonna get ill otherwise.” You instructed, before stepping back into the locker room as she slowly padded behind you.

“HI’TSHHUIEW!” A sudden loud sneeze made you jump from your skin for the second time that day.

You turned to see Natasha’s nose twitching as her eyes fluttered closed as she hovered her hand infront of nose expectantly, “Hh’iiTSHIEW!”

“Bless you.” It then finally hit you as to why she had seemed so weak earlier and to why she was so out of it. Still, blessing her felt good. Hell acknowledging her as something other then somebody you hated felt good. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave her touch in that moment.

She gave you a nod, her own way of saying thanks as she pulled open her own locker to look for some clean clothes. Only afew moments later you heard her give a congested groan, it seems she only had 2 pairs of spandex and a sports drawer stuffed in there.

You groaned and thought with you feelings. You hesitated before opening your own locker up and taking out your spare pair of joggers and an oversized band t-shirt accompanied by a baggy sweatshirt, “Wear these” You said bluntly, throwing them onto the bench beside her.

Nat went to reach for them but stopped, retracting her hand. “I don’t need help from you.” She tried to snarl but the effect was lost as she broke off into a fit of deep rattling coughs.

“Oh cut the crap Nat, I know you’re sick.” You rolled your eyes as she stifled a sneeze into her arm, “That’s not good for you.” You added, a hint of concern slipping into your words.

“Im sorry.” She sniffled a reply before reached out for the offered clothes, not bothering to turn around as she pulled them on, still sniffing as she did so.

You sighed and reached back into your locker to see if you had any tissues for her. Sometimes you kept them in there incase of emergencies. Luckily for her, you had a small packet of those travel ones.

“Blow your nose or something, that sniffling is getting on my nerves.” You lied as you came over to her and pressed the pack into her hand.

It seemed you had done that in the nick of time, just as she had pulled a tissue from the pack the incessant itch in her nose made itself known again.

“Hhi’tshhiuew’ hH’ii’hhtshoo!” Natasha sniffled into the tissues before turning away from you to blow her nose. Her face blushing a deep red as embarrassment seeped into her cheeks.

“You really don’t feel well, do you?” You asked quietly once she had finished, the concerned words came pooling from your mouth.

Nobody could’ve expected what had happened next though. Wordlessly Natasha turned back to you and fell into your chest, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

“I miss us.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. You could feel the fever burning its way through her body as she held onto you.

“Nat-“ You stumbled over your words, “We cant do this. This isn’t you talking, it’s just your fever. This is silly. Come on now. Don’t say stuff like that.” You said but still you kept ahold of her, keeping her safe in your arms.

Of course she didn’t mean what she was saying. She was just feverish and sick. She’d go to bed and wake up with that same hate. Nothing could ever happen between you two again, right?

You felt her chest begin to jerk forwards as she began to cough again, Natasha moved to try and pull away but for some reason you couldn’t let her go. God you wanted too, but you just couldn’t make yourself let go. Instead, you felt your hand moving up to rub comforting circles down her back. Your body acting on its on accord.

Neither of you had felt your tears that had begun to spill from both of your eyes until you’d both let each-other go several minutes later.

Well, there was no going back now. You looked at Natasha, glancing over her pale face and green glassy eyes, you found yourself admiring the beautiful damp crimson curls which fell from her head. God, she was still as beautiful as ever. You’re stomach felt like it had been invaded by an army of fluttering butterflies and as you opened your mouth to speak, it was almost as if you’re words came pouring out.

“Natasha. I cant do this anymore. I cant stand here and say I don’t care about you because U do, and it hurts so much to lie to myself about this. Because at the end of the day, I still lov-“

Your sentence was cut off by a sudden movement. Natasha reached up and pressed her lips hard against your own, the memory of her kisses came flooding back as you found yourself reaching up to cup her cheek as she kissed you harder, turning to push you against the lockers.

The moment between you two seemed to last hours, each kiss bringing back tidal waves of feelings which you thought you’d long since buried.

Eventually she pulled away, the taste of her cherry lipgloss still hung on your lips.

“I love you too.” She replied to your unfinished sentence, a small smile spreading across her face. You felt yourself blush red, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Can we really do this?” You whispered against her cheek, not wanting to break the atmosphere.

“I want us to try.” She replied as she pressed a final soft kiss against your lips.

You smiled and took her hand, “I’d like that, but first we should probably get you into bed. You really don’t look too good.”

She laughed before sputtering off into a weak cough, “Are you saying I look bad?” God. It was like nothing had ever happened between you two.

Smirking, you shook your head and looped an arm around her waist, “You know what I mean. Come on, lets get you into bed.”

Natasha nodded as you lead her to the exit and headed towards the elevator, “What about movie night?” She sniffled, running the sleeve of your sweatshirt underneath her nose.

“Movie night can wait until you feel better.” The elevator dinged and you let her step inside first, “Now more importantly, your bed or mine?”

Natasha smiled, “Yours.”

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unclewaynemunson · 2 years ago

Text

Pt3 to this au that’s getting waaay longer than i planned it to be | full version AO3 link

Eddie had a problem. A big problem. A problem named Steve Harrington, a problem who had signed up for weekly guitar lessons with him – a problem who furrowed his brows and slightly opened his mouth when he was concentrating, who had perfectly manicured fingers stroking his guitar, who ran a hand through his gravity-defying hair when he got nervous or frustrated, who blushed every time without exception when Eddie complimented him on his progress.

'He has a child, Nance!'

'So? He's single, isn't he?'

'I don't know that, he might be lying about that, too! He never mentioned his fucking daughter either!'

'Maybe it wasn't his daughter, maybe it was just some neighborhood kid or his niece or something.'

'She looked exactly like him!'

'Okay, but not mentioning something is not the same as lying. He literally said he was single, didn't he?'

Eddie sighed and nodded.

'I haven't seen you fall this hard ever before,' Nancy remarked. 'And he's clearly into you, too. I mean, he started taking guitar lessons because he wanted to see you again – that's really romantic, Eddie! Is it really a total dealbreaker if he has a kid?'

'Yes,' Eddie answered through gritted teeth.

'But you love your kids!'

'That's way different! I see them an hour a week for music lessons, that's not comparable to having a tiny human around all the time, and raising them and shaping their little mind and shit! That's fucking terrifying, Nance, I'm not even a proper human myself! I ate coffee powder for breakfast this morning because the tap wasn't working again, and I forgot to do my laundry so I'm wearing Wayne's old-man tent boxers!'

Nancy choked on her beer. 'I did not need to know that, thanks,' she spluttered.

'Point is, I'm hopelessly in love with a father, and I can never date him, because I can't possibly be a stepfather for the next, like, ten years. And he keeps flirting with me and I can't avoid any of it because I'm locked in a room with him weekly! And he's only twenty and that little girl was, I dunno, I guess three years old, which is concerning, to say the least, so –'

'You don't actually mean that.' Nancy's voice sounded sharp when she interrupted him.

'What?' Eddie shot her a confused look.

'You're not gonna shame him for being a teen dad, that's low.' She shot him one of her mildly terrifying stern glares. 'He probably had an immensely difficult decision to make, and he chose to commit, at a very young age, when it would've been easy for him to walk away and not take any responsibility. That's really brave of him, and you shouldn't judge him for that only because you can't get over it.'

Eddie huffed and took a big sip of his beer. He hated it when Nancy was honest and right.

🎵

He saw Steve again, earlier than expected, on Monday afternoon. It was in between lessons, in the fifteen minutes he had after Will left and before Max would arrive. He put on his leather jacket and headed downstairs for a smoke, and saw Steve and his daughter come out of the daycare center at the moment he reached the last step of the stairs.

Steve froze when he saw Eddie and stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

'Hey,' said Eddie. 'Look at that, you got a lovely little family.' It sounded fake to his own ears; he desperately hoped that Steve wouldn't pick up on that.

‘Thanks,' Steve mumbled, not exactly looking too happy to be seeing Eddie. 'This is – this is Rose.' He took a few steps towards Eddie. The girl on his arm had the same soft brown-eyed gaze as her father, and her brown hair was braided neatly, with two brightly colored bows in its ends. Eddie found it hard to believe that Steve would be able to braid like that; there was a woman, of course there was a woman, there had to be a woman.

'Rose, can you say hi to Eddie?' Steve asked the little girl.

'Eddie!' she repeated with a wide smile on her face.

No matter how much Eddie hated to admit it, the girl was really fucking cute. How could he not smile back at her and give her a tiny wave, to which she responded by happily waving back at him?

'She's your spitting image,' Eddie remarked at Steve.

Weirdly enough, Steve grimaced at that.

'I know,' he said. 'Same father, so...'

'Huh, what?'

'She's my half sister.'

His half sister.

Eddie's eyes widened. 'Oh,' he responded, stupidly.

'Yeah, it's um... It's kind of a messy story, to be honest. That's why I never mentioned her, actually. She hasn't been in my life for that long yet. I didn't even know she existed until - ‘ he suddenly shut his mouth, brusquely cutting himself off. ‘Never mind, doesn’t matter.’ He looked as if he felt embarrassed for saying too much. ‘I guess I liked to pretend like everything was normal. With the music lessons, I mean. That it was just us and the music, and nothing else.' He sighed and combed his free hand through his hair, prompting Rose to stretch out her hand and lightly pull at a lock of his hair, too.

He didn't reprimand her, but merely shot her a fond look before he switched his attention back to Eddie.

'Sorry, that kinda made it sound like – like I'm not happy with her or something. But she's actually the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. It's just – it's a lot, you know? I guess I liked having this one place where I could pretend like my family wasn't falling apart.'

Eddie nodded. 'Yeah, I get that,’ he said. ‘I mean, that's what music is for, right? Escapism.'

'Yeah, exactly.'

Eddie got a sense of deja vu from the way Steve kept hovering around, seemingly not knowing what to say but also not wanting to leave, just like that first time they met. Only this time, Eddie felt lost for words, too. It was too much, to see Steve be so gentle and sweet with that girl that he'd assumed was his daughter but was actually his little sister. To see him so full of love and so distressed at the same time, one body full of contradictions. He didn't even know what to think – let alone say – right now.

He turned his gaze to Rose, because somehow, that was easier than addressing Steve directly.

'It was really nice meeting you, Rose,' he said to her. 'You have an amazing big brother. Be good to him, alright?'

She nodded, her eyes wide open and that sweet grin on her face again.

When he looked up at Steve, he saw that the guy was blushing heavily – but the anxious look had disappeared from his eyes, so Eddie supposed that he could count that as a win.

'Hey, um, I really have to go, my arm is kinda falling asleep – which is your fault, Rose, there's nothing wrong with your legs and yet I'm carrying you around like you're still a baby.' The girl stuck her tongue out and Steve gasped dramatically. 'Don't do that! I'll stop carrying you if you do that again. For real, this time.'

She giggled and Steve shifted her onto his other arm, then brushed a hand over her hair.

'Alright, I'll see you on Wednesday,' he said to Eddie, before he turned towards the exit, leaving Eddie still stunned in the hall.

Just us and the music, was the part of the conversation that kept repeating itself in Eddie's brain, like a broken record, again and again and again. Just us and the music. Just us. Us. Us.

Pt4

Tag list: @kardinalkalamity @imzadidragonfly @simpforsauron @undreamingscatworld @nailbatbabygirl @solosnail @theysherobinbuckley @sharpbutsoft @manda-panda-monium @piningapple @whimsicalwitchm

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #fruity ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #i saw a chance to spread my platonic edancy agenda and took it #they're besties i won't take criticism #also i can't believe so many people asked to be tagged??? seriously i don't even have words but it's so !!!!!

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arosesstorm · 3 years ago

Note

Hello!!! may I please request a alec lightwood x gn!reader where he gets jealous when someone is flirting with the reader and he gets possessive?? thank you for this! ♥️

-ahhh I hope you enjoy this, I think I kinda diverted a bit, but jealous Alec is priceless so hopefully I'll write something more angsty next time; thanks for the request it was fun to write <;3

Jealousy Contest - Alec Lightwood

words count: a few

gender neutral reader! x Alec Lightwood

warning: jealous Alec

summary: as soon as Sebastian Verlac crossed the institute's doors Alec knew he brought nothing but trouble, but not for the reason everyone may be thinking...

English is not my first language loves, trying my best, enjoy :)

As a good writer would write, it all started when a Ravener demon decided to take a walk around New York.

It was a normal evening, like any other at the institute when the news came and the Lightwood-Harondale trio was sent to solve the problem; their usual partners, y/n and Clary, were busy running after a Shax demon (something y/n hated as much as doing laundry) two blocks too far away to be involved.

"I just don’t feel good about this" Alec mumbled, slowly making his way towards an ally, bow raised in front of him as his steps were careful.

"We follow orders, Alec" Jace sighed "he’s right big bro and-" a sudden turn to the left "it’s not like y/n and Clary are not capable of defending themselves" Izzy finished.

"I still don’t believe it’s a good-", but he didn't get to finish; the loud cry of a man interrupting him mid sentence.

The three immediately felt the sudden urge to run as Alec’s feet guided him: he turned around the corner, to the right, to the left, to the right again, and there he stood, the blood in his veins dry: y/n was on the ground, a cut as long as Jace’s blade on her left side, but it didn’t belong to a blade, its darkish spots of venom visible as the Ravener stood in front of her, ready to go for another hit.

Someone was with her and it was not Clary.

The figure stood forward, a blade as shining as the moon was in his hand as he cut the demon’s feet.

The beast crying in agony as it fell forward, knocking the stranger to the ground.

"Alright, now I am angry" he heard y/n mutter as their will helped them on their feet again, a tight hand pressed on their side, they were trying to show as little pain as possible.

It took a second, he didn’t have the time to process, as he saw them took a couple of daggers from behind their back, their hands holding the weapons tightly as they threw themselves at the beast.

As soon as the daggers sinked into the demon’s stomach, Alec’s harrow hit the creature in its head, its body falling still on the ground as he saw them turn towards him.

The daggers falling to the ground as he heard them chuckle: "I can’t keep doing your work Lightwood" and he watched, horrified, their body falling to the ground, eyes shocked as they landed in the arms of the stranger.

What Alec found out later was that the stranger in question, was a shadow hunter, worse, he was a man: Sebastian Verlac was his name and he was far from being discrete.

It was obvious the guy had a crush on y/n, he saw it from the way his eyes followed their figure every time they left a room, or how he would make sure to have breakfast at their table every morning, a stupid grin on his face when they laughed.

It started to be very ridiculous and Alec himself for some strange reason was starting to get sick of it.

When he entered the training room that afternoon, he felt himself roll his eyes.

Y/n and Sebastian were training in a way it looked more like flirting.

He touched them in ticklish spots, his words a continuous tease, his eyes a staring mess.

Alec coughed, hard, which got their attention, eyes shooting his way.

Sebastian was quick to react, his eyes kindly drifting back to y/n, "guess I’ll go, I’ve won enough for today", y/n’s quick remark "ah! You wish"as the blond made his way towards the door Alec felt the sudden urge to punch him.

"I want a rematch then" Sebastian said, smiling, before disappearing into the institute’s many corridors.

Y/n’s eyes were back on Alec as he came forward, "you look pissed" they stated as he took two training sticks from the weapon’s section.

"How about we train?" He asked, his eyes sharp as he threw one in y/n’s direction.

"Alright serious boy" they snorted grabbing the stick, legs in position.

He was the first to come forward, his legs strong as he aimed for y/n’s stomach but they were quick to stop him halfway.

Alec seemed determined as he came forward again, a shot for their shoulder, they dodged, a aim for their leg, they stopped him again as y/n pushed the stick back to Alec’s face.

"More than pissed I guess", Alec chuckled darkly as he turned into position "this is called training" he spat, his gray shirt sticky on his torso.

Y/n felt like giggling "what is going on with you?", "how about a hand to hand?" Alec replied, kicking the stick aside as you followed his moves, not failing to see his hands were trembling.

"Something was in your latte this morning" y/n teased as Alec pushed himself forward, a hand flying in the air as they dodged his punch "actually, I go for black coffee" his body as stiff as a log.

He tried to take y/n down again, legs following his moves swiftly, this time he got a open shot as he grabbed them by the shoulder, his arms wrapping around their throat as he held tight behind their back.

"This is called winning" he slowly loosed the grip, as y/n’s eyes lightened with amusement "so you’re jealous".

"What?" He asked, coming to the front again, his eyes everywhere but on them, "you really are jealous" y/n couldn’t help but laugh as the man was clearly uncomfortable.

"As future head of the institute, it is my duty to show you how to properly train" Alec was quick to react, his eyes finally meeting y/n’s as they softly smiled.

"Sure, future head of the institute, this is clearly what this is all about".

"It is."

Y/n sighed: "How about a rematch?" They asked.

"Can’t, gotta go" Alec replied quickly, his legs taking him as far away from y/n as possible.

"Don’t go make a scene to Sebastian too!" Y/n laughed as Alec cursed under his breath, hurting to disappear, maybe, if he left quick enough, it would have been as if nothing happened.

Y/n felt themselves softly smiling: "Head of the institute? More like lover boy".

mia

masterlist

#imagine #fanfic #netflix #alec lightwood x reader #alec shadowhunters #alec lightwood imagine #alec ligthwood #alec lightwood bane #magnus x alec #alexander lightwood #shadowhunters rp #shadowhunters tv #shadowhunters fanfiction #shadowhunters edit #shadowhunters #shadow hunters #shadowhunters imagine

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inklore · 3 years ago

Note

“if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

with hangman 😮‍💨

two can play

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x (f)reader warnings: eighteen+ content, established relationship, dry humping, mentions of sex and f receiving oral, dirty talk, hangman is def a mean dom ok. etc: he’s really living up to that ‘will leave you high and dry’ nickname for real.

His words make you laugh, have you making a fake expression of fear—that’s like a red flag being waved in front of the face of a bull. It makes you laugh when he turns his head to the side, tongue clicking against his teeth as he smirks. As the threat turns from something playful to deadly.

“If you interrupt me one more time—so help me god.”

It wasn’t your fault he was just there all sweaty and without a shirt as he did his little pushups, his crunches, the sweat running down his body making him glisten with the little bit of sun that was shining through the windows. Lighting his body up like a neon sign pulling your eyes in. Making that ache between your legs pulse and throb the more you watched him. The more his chest heaved, the more the breaths puffed out and reminded you of what it sounded like to have his mouth right by your ear as he fucked you slow—taking his time with you, praising you all night as he took you apart then put you back together to do it all over again.

It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t help it.

“So scared.” You say off handedly, rolling your eyes at him. Your next statement getting trampled over with by a squeal as he grabs your ankle and pulls you from the couch, hand at your back to cushion your fall as he climbs on top of you.

Grabbing your wrists to pull your arms above your head, your thrashing and protests quickly dissipating as you feel him position himself perfectly between your hips—a slow roll of his pelvis having his surprisingly hard cock rubbing against the seam of your yoga pants, right against the throbbing that you need so badly to be satiated.

I guess you weren’t the only one getting off to your little interruptions.

“You should be scared,” he rolls his hips again. Making your breath catch in your throat and your hips push up to meet his. To gyrate against his clothed cock, with just the right pressure that has your legs shaking to wrap around him and beg. “Because if I don’t get to finish,” he bends down, breath heavy against your lips as he talks. “Then neither do you.”

His sweat is soaking your thin top, making this ten times worse—to feel the heat of his body right against yours, burning you to your core, making you want to strip and feel his skin, to fight fire with fire, need with want, desire with lust.

This time when he rocks his hips its so slow that you actually moan, “and we both know how much you love it when I make you come.” He presses a kiss to your lips, “I’ll fuck you so slow with my tongue, have you gripping the sheets, begging me to make you come. And right when you’re about to, I'll pull my mouth away. Replace it with my cock, fuck you deep and hard like you love. Have your pussy clenching around me, my finger at your clit. And right when you’re about to,” he smirks, chuckles. “Know where I’m going with this?” He hums, kisses you again. “I’ll stop fucking you and switch back to my mouth, keep doing that until you can’t take it anymore. Make you regret every little antic you just did. Wish you’d been good so I’d let you finish.”

He grinds his hips down one last time, having you whimpering into his mouth. “Understand, sweetheart?” After you nod, embarrassingly quick, he’s standing up and moving back across the room to grab the water bottle he had sat on the table. Completely disregarding your frustrated groan, a shit eating grin on his face.

#jake hangman seresin smut #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin x you #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x f!reader #hangman x f!reader #hangman x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin smut #blurb week

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imaginingmarvelandeverything · 3 years ago

Text

Convenience Masterlist

If you like my writing you can buy me a coffee :)

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

(Completed) After his oldest friend loses everything, Bruce suggests a marriage of convenience that will benefit them both (fluff, angst, gets kinda steamy, will eventually follow the film)

Masterlist

On AO3

Playlist

1. Heroes and Villains

2. The Proposal

3. White Wedding

4. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

5. Phantom

6. Designs

7. The Car

8. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

9. Open Wounds

10. Something in the Way

11. Drive

12. Supercut

13. The Memorial

14. Revelations

15. All the Things She Said

16. Bruises

17. Mail Bomb

18. Aftermath

19. Family Secrets

20. For Reasons Unknown

21. Election Day

22. The Invitation

23. Remember, Remember

24. Inbetween Days

25. Back Home

26. This is the Day

Bonus Chapters:

Bonus chapter key:

* = main story universe

AU = alternative universe for the main story

(Everything else is continuation of the main story that will not follow the sequel film when it comes out, and are not in chronological order!)

Self Defence *

Bruce keeps his promise and starts to teach Y/N how to defend herself (fluff)

What if?

AU: What if the convenience couple found out they were expecting just before everything with the Riddler happened? (fluff, angst)

The Circus

Alfred suggests Y/N and Bruce take a night off at the circus (fluff, angst)

These are the Days of Our Lives *

Snapshots of each of the years of Y/N and Bruce's lives (fluff, angst)

Exhaustion

Bruce and Y/N find out just how tiring being parents is (fluff)

Math Homework

Family time as Y/N helps Dick with his math homework (fluff, tiny bit of angst)

The Killing Moon Part 2

What if the Joker broke out of Arkham and grabbed Y/N? (angst, so much angst)

A Night Out

Y/N and Bruce attend their first gala since the baby was born, and since Bruce became Batman (fluff)

The Foundations of Decay Part 2

The Joker grabs Jason, Y/N gets the message meant for Bruce, but even she might be too late (angst, so much angst)

My Love *

18+! Set after This is the Day, Y/N is fully healed, but Bruce is still treating her like she's made of glass. She comes up with a plan to change that (smut, fluff)

Prison Phone Calls

Y/N's mother calls after the baby is born, the conversation does not go well (angst, fluff)

Hanging on the Telephone

18+! AU: What if Y/N's parents forced her into an engagement with Maroni's son to help pay down their debts? (Angst, fluff, smut)

Rescue Mission

Bruce and Gordon underestimate the guy they're chasing leading Y/N to have to come to their aid. Gordon learns their secret (angst, fluff)

Anniversary

The kids, with Alfred's help, prepare a surprise for their parents wedding anniversary (fluff)

Loss

AU: What if the Riddler grabbed Y/N to try and draw Bruce out? (angst)

This is How I Disappear Part 2 Part 3

Foundations of Decay AU: What if Y/N had died on the roof with Jason? (angst, so much angst)

Conception

18+! Y/N and Bruce try to figure out where the baby was conceived (smut)

All These Things That I've Done

Something bad happens to Bruce, Y/N and Bruce have to deal with its effects over more than a decade (angst, warning for sexual assault, the Damian Wayne bonus chapter)

A Day of Interruptions *

18+! Y/N and Bruce keep getting interrupted when things are heating up, leading to a lot of frustration (smut, fluff)

The Bomb

AU: What if Y/N opened the package meant for Bruce instead of Alfred? (angst, fluff)

Déjà Vu

Y/N finds herself reliving the worst day of her life, but this time Jason's blood is on Bruce's hands (angst, tiny bit of fluff)

Lazy Mornings

18+! Bruce really doesn't want Y/N to get out of bed, part of my 5.5k follower celebration (smut, fluff)

Fear

Bruce gets dosed with fear toxin for the first time and Y/N has to go out and bring him home, part of my 5.5k follower celebration (angst, fluff)

Safe House

Y/N shows Jason the apartment she brought for him (angst, fluff)

Tire Thief

Bruce calls Y/N for help when he catches a street kid stealing the charger's tires (angst, fluff)

Halloween

Three years on from the Riddler, the Wayne family celebrates Halloween (fluff, tiny bit of angst)

Blurbs:

How Bruce reacts to finding out he's going to be a father

What does the Riddler think about the possibility of Y/N opening the package meant for Bruce? *

First morning home with the baby

The baby finally gets named

Bruce's thoughts on being a father

Dick's hungry and Bruce has to deal with it

Y/N and Bruce tell Dick and Alfred that they're expecting

It's Bruce's turn to get up with the baby in the middle of the night

Dick is introduced to the baby for the first time

What was Bruce thinking about when Y/N was asleep in the hospital after giving birth?

Y/N calls Bruce at 3AM whiles he's out as Batman with a pregnancy craving

Gordon knows something about why Batman hasn't been showing up as regularly

Alfred as grandad

Y/N buys some lingerie for Bruce's birthday, but gets nervous about showing him

Bruce over hears some not nice comments about Y/N at a gala *

Dick is excited to be a big brother

Dick spends some time with the baby

Bruce is left alone with both of the kids

Bruce has to leave the house because his daughter wants to go to the aquarium for her birthday

Dick finds out that Bruce is Batman

Dick becomes Robin

Grace's first word

Bruce asks Y/N what she thinks about having another baby

Dick calls Y/N mom for the first time

Y/N asks Bruce if he ever really felt anything for Selina *

On his wedding day, Dick thinks back on his life

What Bruce said on Dick's wedding day that made Y/N laugh

Y/N and Bruce have another conversation about having another baby

Alfred babysits for the night

Y/N tells Dick that Jason is back

Follower Celebration Sleepover Drabbles:

Ask 1

Ask 2

Ask 3

Ask 4

Ask 5

Ask 6

Requests are open for anything you want to know more about this couple that I might not have mentioned in the story, or any situations you would like to see them in (smut included because I've decided to start writing it) :)

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #batman imagine #batman x reader #battison #the batman #batman #robert pattinson #masterlist #bruce wayne smut #batman smut

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whoreshijima · 2 years ago

Note

Atsumu would be that "just the tip" guy you meet at a bar, pressed up against a tiny hidden corner. Teasing each other all night, and needed a little, just a tiny bit, he promises, then he can hold off until he gets you to his place.

"Just the tip, yeah? Just a little feel of it, then I can wait. Maybe- maybe an inch or two more, but no more than that. No, no, no, I promise. I promis- fuck you're so wet." Breatheless and panting, maybe a slightly deranged smile on his face while he stares at you, one leg up and hooked around his waist, dress hiked up, your other leg shaking from its place on the floor, trying to keep you up while Atsumu's thick fingers press and sooth over your needy cunt.

"Just the tip. Maybe an inch or two more, but no more than that." He keeps saying it to himself, spreading his fingers and sliding them over your folds, his thoughts interrupted for just a split second about how good it'd feel on his tongue and how you'd taste like heaven. And while he's too busy falling in love with your pussy you try to undo his belt, rushing with the leather and clasps and just about crying when you can't do it immediately, and only once you sniffle and choke a bit does Atsumu realize what you're doing and finally pull his hand away, lick off his fingers, and then undo his belt for you.

"That's it. Take it out for me. The tip should be enough right? Maybe just an inch or two more, but no more than that."

He slaps it against your clit, a shock running up his spine with each whine and sob you make, and then the tip is pressing against you, too big, too thick, and he grunts while he nudges his hips. Just the tip. Just the tip. He melts when it's in, freely moaning and groaning about how good it feels and how he needs more. "More, more, please, please-" with a little whine while he pushes in deeper, just an inch or two more, and it's more than enough to have you clawing at his jacket, trying so hard to get your hands underneath his clothes to his skin, and his hands plant your hips firmly to the wall behind you, and before you know it you're getting more and more than just the tip and one or two inches.

"Half. Half and... and that should be enough. Then- then I can wait." His forehead pressed to your shoulder, whining and panting the entire time. He's in misery with how good you feel, pushing in more and more, and he tries to stop at half, he really does, but you just had to moan out the cutest little "daddy please" right into his ear when he did, and his body reacted on its own, he swears it did.

Atsumu swears with all his chest that he didn't mean to pull his hips back and slam into you with all his body weight behind it. He swears that the little grunts about how you're gonna make him just that was just a natural response, and that you getting fucked up against the wall, gasping and crying for it, that was your doing, not his. You put your legs around his waist and made him hold onto your ass with that bruising grip, not him. How could he have done that? And of course it was you that grabbed onto his hair and 'accidentally' yanked his head into your chest while he fucke you. He didn't do that. Why would he do that?

He swears, up and down, that that was all you and your doing. Even when he's begging you to please cum on him, and it's you that made him cum inside. He didn't beg for it- what are you talking about?

It's you that made him drive you to his place after, and go again and again. That wasn't him. He doesn't do things like that. He sticks to his word, didn't you know? So if he says just the tip, that's all it was meant to be, and the rest was you.

And now, weeks, months later, sitting in his apartment that he swears, he swears you just stayed, no he didn't beg you to date him, and later to live with him, you just didn't leave, every night when he gets you under him, struggling with his pants, he swears that it's just the tip. Just the tip, maybe an inch or two more, but no more than that. He swears it while you run your hands over the scratches on his back from earlier, and smooth out his already destroyed hair.

"Just the tip, maybe an inch or two more, but no more than that. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

-☁️

shut yhe fuck up and kiss me this is gold

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #atsumu #atsumu smut #haikyu smut

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ficmachine · 3 years ago

Note

Hewwo ily! I’ll take a number 17 no foot lettuce!

Sundrop/Moondrop x NB reader, where reader is a daycare assistant who never really wanted to work with kids but ends up having to take the job and loves it, actually heeds the warning of not being there when it’s dark until one day reader is just so overworked from life in general they fall asleep during closing? ;;w;;

1) Yes, absolutely, ily too dude :0c

2) I do write for them, yeah!

Tired reader fluff HCs comin' right up!

Sundrop/Moondrop (FNAF) x Tired Daycare Reader

[Headcanons - general + cuddles]

You've been working hard lately, hard enough for you to remind yourself to keep focused at work especially when doing arts and crafts with children. They're not exhausting, per se, but having to deal with so many little faces and loud voices a day does quickly take its toll on you. Regardless, it's a very enjoyable job.

It took you a while to get used to how things are, even longer to finally realise that not all the children are as bad as your cousin's nightmare spawns who think everything belongs to them and they can take everything. Sure, there's kids here and there who are selfish, some who will scream on the top of their lungs if they don't get their way, but for the most part? It's heartwarming to be looked up to.

Sundrop -

Sundrop hadn't noticed something was off the first few times you politely shut down his small-talk and redirected his attention to a crying child. He didn't as much as give it a second thought when you responded for the 7th time today that you were too busy to talk. 8th time around though? 8 is his favourite number, and that's too many times.

Somehow, he managed to miss you around closing time. The daycare was cleaned up, sure, but you were nowhere to be seen. He probably should've thought it over before going off to get you something to eat – he likes keeping you company as you eat.

He was close to throwing the hotdog away, or going over to see if one of the animatronics with a mouth want it (it's hilariously unsanitary to watch Chica eat things that weren't meant to be eaten, according to Sundrop.) when he tripped over your curled up form.

Oh the tumble he took would've seriously injured him if he was flesh and bone. But, being the overly enthusiastic animatronic he is, the second his eyes landed on you he sprung back up onto his feet and pulled you back onto yours. From then forth you were dragged to the food court – he deserves at least an hour of your time after getting ignored so much.

He gets worried when you doze off at work, even more so when you fall asleep during closing times but more often than not he'll let you snooze while he and few of the other bots/employees clean up. If anyone tries to interrupt you they get heaved up and carried away as Sundrop scolds them for “not letting the good employees rest”

On the days you can't spare him much time he very much expects you to make it up either the day after or at the very least deal with him clinging to you for the next few hours until you leave. He gets that you're busy but surely enough you can be busy with him there, right? After all, he's AMAZING company!

Whenever things aren't busy in the daycare he'll drag you up to somewhere the two of you can watch over them. Literally. Not only does that mean he can sit with you BUT he also gets to hold your hand without having to worry that kids will start babbling about cooties.

Given the chance he would absolutely go home with you. Unfortunately, after the one night where he tried to follow you he realised he can't go any further than the first lamp post before being finding himself back at the daycare when the lights come back on. He's still extremely pouty about that.

Moondrop -

The first time he met you was when you fell asleep during cleaning. He's not sure how everyone including his sunny counterpart managed to miss you, but here you were. Passed out in the corner with your jacket around you as a blanket.

Keeping in mind to scold Sundrop later for leaving you out like this via post-it notes, he begrudgingly went off to the other side of the establishment to find you a proper adult-sized blanket. As soon as he got back he realised he couldn't just leave you on the floor and carried you off towards one of the staff breaker rooms.

He actually went as far as to steal a couch from one of the other rooms and move it to the one closest to the daycare before carrying you inside and laying you down.

At first he actually tried to find the most comfortable one but he quickly realised that he doesn't very much care enough to show he cares. Why should he? It's not like it'd matter – you're asleep anyway. Besides, it's on you for falling asleep where you did.

If you woke up while being carried? Unless you don't question him you won't get dropped where he stands. There's only so much he's willing to do, and he sure as hell won't do them when you acknowledge that he's being nice.

Moondrop isn't exactly a cuddle kind of guy. In fact, very much unlike Sundrop he very much does NOT like physical touch unless it's initiated by him. You might get lucky enough to get a small pat on the back, or a gentle head ruffle if you do something that helps him out. Emphasis on might though - he's extremely strict and picky about being physical.

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joshslater · 2 years ago

Text

The Cards

Attempting to repost stories previously flagged as too risqué for tumblr. This is some sort of story based on captions made by Himbo Heaven. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"And it has to be one of these four?" you ask the man in the armchair across your coffee table. "We've been over this already. Just make your decision," he says, not even looking up from the device in his hand. You make a defeated sigh and pick the top card from the stack.

Thank God it comes with dumb, you think as you can't imagine living like that and keeping your wits about you. Deep down you wouldn't mind looking better, you know that. It's not like you are remarkably ugly. At worst you could be described as unremarkable, but handsome people have always behaved in a way that annoyed you. Like they got this genetic gift and act like they are better than everyone. The irony here is to get it literally gifted, or forced rather, to become the ultimate end of vain entitlement. No, you correct yourself. There was that "made to fulfill" part too, which makes you conflicted because it somehow makes it better holistically while also being worse personally. An ornamental slut eager to please. Frustrated you throw the card down on the table and pick the next one.

This is even less appealing to you. The first one at least had some air of luxury, but this is just crude. Even the description doesn't bother with any sophistication but simply states "Dude, bro". You've worked hard to never be anyone's dude or bro. There should be a comma after "socks" shouldn't it? And another one after caps. Why did it have to say "dumb"? Actually, that whole last run-on sentence sounded pretty horrible. You throw the card on top of the first one in disgust, though it glides almost to the middle of the table before it settles. You're trying to shake the mental image of socks, caps, and a locker room with sweaty athletes having sex with each other.

"Do they all have to be so vulgar?" you ask, but the man ignores the question, still staring at his device. You pick the third card from the stack and suppress a laugh.

That's not going to happen, is it? Just imagine being one of those sex-obsessed people, always trying to score, always making innuendos and flirting. Such a life would be so lacking, with no art, no literature, no real human connections, no science, no awe for the wonders of the world, no plans for how to make the world a better place. Just...

"One more minute then I'll pick one for you," the man interrupts. You throw the card next to the other two and pick up the last one.

Finally something without sex in the text, but then it has "Slut" right there in the title. In a way this is just the jock again, but worse in almost all aspects. None of the aesthetic part, no hints of any life outside of the gym or team or friends, and unlike the jock text an unqualified reduction in intelligence. If the last one's life sounded empty, this one is even more tragic.

"Fuck it! I'll take..."

Trophy Boy

It's the one with the softest landing after all. Sure, some people would be weirded out by a meticulously sexualized and objectified man, but there must be so many who'd love to care for him.

The man in the armchair nods and makes a slight motion with his hands. You recognize the scent of lavender, no its cum, no bubblegum, no lube. It's over so quickly you think you must have been mistaken. You feel warm, not in a feverish way, but as if you've been out in the sun a tad too long. You're thirsty but can't resist licking your lips. Your lips feel different. Your mouth feels different. Did the transformation already start? You're just about to ask him when your clothes turn to powder, perhaps more like sand than flour, because it falls off you cleanly to reveal the smooth, tan, perfect skin of your toned arms. A swirl of pride, horniness, and disgust wash over you as you trace the rest of your meticulously toned body with your gaze.

You lick your lips again. Your mouth is lacking something. Shouldn't there be something happening to you? Some sort of change, for some reason you can't quite recall. You think of bubblegum. Your mouth lacks bubblegum! There's a man you don't recognize getting up from an armchair, reaching for some cards at the table next to you. Or a lolly. A pink strawberry lolly to suck on. "Who are you?" you ask the man. He's fit, dressed in plain but expensive clothes. You stare at his groin as he collects the cards. A dick! Your mouth is lacking a dick to suck on. "It doesn't matter. You won't see me again," the man says and heads towards the door. "Aww," you whine and try to make a sad face, pouting your lips. There's a big glass bowl with strawberry lollies on the table though, so you stand up, adjust your thong, and head over there to find something to suck on. If only they made them cum flavored.

Jock

Once the transformation is done, this must surely be the best option. To be surrounded by teammates that support each other. Bro culture may be toxic from the outside, but as a dumb member it must be great.

The man in the armchair nods and makes a slight motion with his hands. Your eyes widen as knowledge rush into you, rules for sports you barely knew existed, famous players, games from history, not just who won or lost, but where it was played, who was in it, the notable swings of fortune. You know not just the rules, but how to apply them in practice, what to do differently when the grass is wet or when the sun is in your back. You know how to save every second when putting on football pads. You know what underwear chafes, what fabrics are good for running, how to pour out the contents of your training duffel on the floor so all the sweaty clothes dry over night. You know how to pace yourself in beer pong to come out winning more often than not, and how to cure hangover the day after in time for training. You know how to suck your bro's dick to keep him on the edge for as long as possible. You know how to recognize how many shots into the evening the teammates will let you make out with them with sloppy kisses. You know how to move your body to keep your bros inside you for as long as possible, and have them come back for seconds once they've creamed inside of you and recharged.

"What the fuck!" you gasp, as if gasping for air. As if you were drowning in knowledge you didn't want in the first place. You're panting heavily, frantically scanning the room with your eyes as if you've just woken up from a nightmare. You see the man across the room, sitting in the armchair, and suddenly you're reminded of what is happening. The cards, the choice, the transformation. Only you haven't transformed. You look the same as when you came in through the door from school. Doing what though?

You struggle to remember anything that happened during the day. You can't even remember what school you are attending, or what subjects. You glance at the wall clock and know there is basket on ESPN in 40 minutes. You desperately don't want to know that. You look around the room for any hints of what you are studying, of who you really are. You only see a line of football gear strewn on the floor, giving off a faint odor of sweat and liniment cream.

Your panting isn't coming down though, but instead is intensifying as if you were sprinting. You've been too confused and preoccupied to notice just how profusely you're sweating. You feel it one of the legs first, but within seconds you are cramping all over your body. Not just like a big ball of tensed muscle, but fading in and out all over the body seemingly randomly. You try to get out of your seat, but collapse on the floor writhing in pain and convulsions. Eventually the cramps begin to subside and you are aware that the only remaining discomfort is where your too tight clothes cut into you when you move. You're also aware that someone is walking around above you, getting ready to leave your apartment.

"Dude. Fuck me..." you exhale as you roll on your back, exhausted and soaked in sweat, waiting for your heartbeat to go down.

"Many will," you hear someone answer before he closes the door behind him.

Cumdump

It's the only one where you don't lose your smarts if the texts can be trusted. A smoking hot body and boosted libido must be possible to work with.

The man in the armchair nods and makes a slight motion with his hands. You feel both your butt cheeks spasm quickly, as if you flexed your muscles there for half a second. Then it happens again. And again. Every five seconds or so there's a contraction of your butt muscles. Then the fourth time it's followed by a quick clenching of your sphincter. Same with the next one. It's like involuntary kegel exercises. You can feel the contractions getting deeper each time, as if you are clenching harder or more muscles are involved. By the tenth or so contraction it's like a wave that travels from your butt muscles through your ass and out your dick. You can feel an erection slowly building, but the whole thing doesn't feel sexual in any way. It's just like an annoying hiccup. One you imagine would prevent you from walking.

It goes on for minutes and you are just about to ask the man how long this would take, if something is wrong, or if you were required to do something, when the contractions suddenly expand both up and down. You feel your thighs flexing as well as your abs. Every contraction is reaching further away into your body, like a ripple of flexing muscles, always starting from your butt cheeks. You're starting to feel fatigued around your ass and shift around to get more comfortable when you hear a short, ripping sound. It's your underwear you realize. Standing up would be unthinkable with the incessant muscle contractions, so you are limited in what you can do in between the increasingly violent flailings, but you manage to discover that your ass has been growing into a bubble butt, explaining the wardrobe failure. You scoot down into a half-sitting position that is at least closer to comfortable.

You don't know if the frequency had been increasing all along or not, but the thrusts throughout your body happen much faster now, every two seconds or so. The ripple of contractions has extended to basically cover your entire body, all the way down to your feet and all the way up your chest, neck, and out your arms. There's barely any time between one wave being finished and the next one starting. While your dick started out just getting hard it is now radiating horny energy. You're making a small, short moan for every contraction, more of a yelp really, but it is when the wave hits your dick you make the sound.

Then suddenly one wave, once it hit the throat, bounced back down the chest. It goes on a while like that until slowly, slowly the contractions drift out of sync with each other that it's really two different waves. One from the ass and out and one from the throat and down. They are timed differently and drift in and out of phase with each other.

This just goes on and you lose track of time. If asked you wouldn't be able to tell if it had been an hour or four. At some point you just gave up on trying to do anything about it, other than inching into the best possible position. You stopped trying to make sense of it, why it was happening, when it would stop. You just are.

"This is the one I enjoy the most," the man in the armchair says.

Startled you look at him, snapped out of your trance, and everything stops. No more waves of contractions. At some point you had shifted position to just lie on your back with your bent legs up in the air, arms behind your neck. You're confused to see silky smooth legs, shaved cock and balls, and smooth abs glazed in precum from all the droplets have have been flung around. You're just as much confused because you are naked as the fact your body looks like it does. But most surprising of all is the emptiness your feel from the lack of the pounding in your ass and your throat. The deep craving you feel to have that continue and the pervasive horny feeling that is like nothing you have ever experienced before. You know of course what was done to you. You selected the card.

"Why?" "All the other options are just stupidly content with what they become. You on the other hand have a whole journey of coming to terms with it at your own pace. That's why nothing in your apartment has changed." "Perhaps I am content?" you say as you sit back up properly on your new, plump ass and tentatively try to squeeze them to get back the feeling of being thrusted. You reek of sweat and cum after what essentially were hours of being ghost fucked.

He smiles a wry smile. "Well, you can stay with this decor if you want. Or, if you want me to fuck you, I can give you the cumdump interior and wardrobe." "Fuck me!" you say without hesitation.

Muscle Slut

It wouldn't be the first time someone would be fixated on getting the perfect body, and there's a lot of money to be made if you just play your card right. It's the only grown-up decision really.

The man in the armchair nods and makes a slight motion with his hands. You feel a flash of heat, like when stage pyrotechnics go off at a concert, but without any blinding light. No light at all, just a quick, searing heat that instantly begins to mellow out. You look at one of your arms and see it is deeply tanned, not quite hazel nut, but not far off, and completely smooth as if you've waxed it. It almost looks shiny to you as you turn the arm in the soft light of the apartment. You can easily imagine how it would look with some oil on, how it would bring out the contrasts. Heck, even a moderate sweat would send you glistening like a well-polished wood carving.

Fascinated you open and close your hand, watching the tendons and muscles work just beneath the skin on the inside of your forearm, creating ridges for the light to play with. One of the veins catches your attention as wraps around to the other side of your arm. You turn it and are surprised by all the veins snaking up and down the arm. It's exciting though, and mesmerizing. While still looking intently at the arm as you twist and turn it and your hand, you begin stroking your groin. Your arm never interested you this much before. Clearly not, because you never realized before how beautiful your veins are, or that you even had them.

You start to tension the muscles in your arm, as much as you can. You have never flexed before in your life, so you are not sure how to do it. To your disappointment not much happens. Perhaps you are imagining it, but the veins on the arm look even more pronounced. You make another attempt to flex the arm, this time with a bit more proper technique and your eyes widens as you see the response. The bicep bulge is like you've never seen it before. You fumble with your other hand to get it into your pants and underwear to fully grip your erect cock, but you don't want to look away from your arm. You don't want to miss a thing, as you relax and flex it again. This time it grows even larger than the last. Transfixed you flex and relax, flex and relax over and over, just admiring how the skin moves over the muscles, the shape and size of the football sized bulge, and how the light gives it all the most beautiful shimmer you've ever seen.

Suddenly a fear wash over you that you are just focusing on one part of your body, and not looking at the whole. How all body parts should be in proportion with each other, and balanced between both sides. Almost in panic you stop jerking off at inspect your other arm. "Fucking ace!" you shout as you see your other arm is just as muscular, just as bronzed, just as vascular, and just as beautiful as your first arm. You flex both arms into a front double biceps pose, and just wished you had a mirror in front of you.

You look down at your body. Your naked torso shows large pecs jutting out over a strong core with abs that look good even sitting down in this position. Below that your rock-hard dick hangs out of your body hugging trunks that cling to your ass and massive legs. You see a lot to be proud of, but just as much that needs work.

But you do have a mirror in front of you. There's one in each room of the apartment save for the kitchen. You tuck your dick back into the trunks, jump up and approach the mirror. You want to go through your competition program before hitting the gym.

"I trust you'll be all right then," said the man you had forgotten about. "No, I'll be the best," you answer, not looking away from the mirror and your side chest pose.

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sashi-ya · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ♡ ᴅᴀʏ 18 ➡ 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇 nsfw .minors dni 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: @shankss-magnificent-ass asked: 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝! 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝟹 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝟷𝟾 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚡 𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚋!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛? 𝐓𝐰: nsfw. biting. a little bit of blood involved. rough, unprotected sex. dominant king! 𝐰𝐜: 696 ➡ hentober masterlist

Pupils dilating, skin aching.The sharp cut of fangs, pleasure & pain.

You are his, only his. The King of your body, the King of your sex. His huge hands surround your neck from behind, his white hair tickling your shoulder.

Albert, you, and anybody else inside that private, so secret spot. His face must not be shown, yet, you are one of the lucky ones to enjoy it. Tanned skin, handsome profile. Tall and strong, the commander of the Beast Pirates needs you to satiate his hunger.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day” he whispers on your ear, biting and pulling from your lobe. You squirm, he really enjoys biting, tasting your skin. Your back gets pressed against his chest, his huge hand over your belly holding you in place.

“Yes… yes, King…” you whine, biting your lip when you feel his hardness growing against your ass. His hand doesn’t rest for long on your belly and soon it goes up searching for your breasts to squeeze.

Clothes that he enjoys, you are wearing. The zipper that closes your black bodysuit gets open by him, freeing and exposing all your chest. The reddish lights that fill the room, as some candles shine its light through the rice paper walls, also kiss your skin. The scent of sake, the finest one, the one that only him and Kaido drink and the soft shamisen playing in the background, makes the ambience as perfect as King’s body.

“Beautiful…” he whispers, pinching your nipples with his chin on your shoulder. He pinches and pulls, almost like milking them, getting the tissue so ready and hard for his lips to suck on them soon after.

Lips and teeth carving on them as he has turned you around now.

You whine louder, nobody should interrupt the first commander of Kaido so you can moan as loud as you want… nobody will say anything even if it sounded all over Wano kuni.

Albert does not limit himself to just your breasts, but also he wants to feel your wet sex in his hand. He slides his fingers from under your belly button to your groin. The tight bodysuit is nothing but a prison for your folds getting damp with your honeys. And he loves it.

The pressure of his index in your anatomy makes your whimper even louder, your legs shaky, your head light. He keeps biting your nipples until they hurt, and you want more, more.

“I think that if I keep nibbling on these they will get hurt…” he scoffs, planting two kisses on them before moving on to another zone of your body. King’s mouth goes down, biting every little patch of your flesh, as if you were edible, as if you were a sweet treat.

You can’t stop squirming, and while he bites and sucks leaving marks, his fingers prepare your entrance for his sex. “You are soaking wet; you will allow me to fuck you rough tonight? He asks, as if he really cared about your answer.

“I- yes, King. I-“ you stutter in between moans while he pushes you against a cumulous of cushions on the wooden floor. You fall back, blinking. You know he is about to break you in half.

He let’s his jeans fall to the ground, his dick freed is as scary as his whole presence. He is big and wide. He is not delicate, he is rough… And you love it.

Your spread legs receive his royal thrusts, you have no right to get used to his size, you are only allowed to milk his cock as soon as it gets deep inside you.

Albert’s silver hair tickles your cheeks as he fucks you mercilessly and bites your neck like a beast. It leaves imprints so deep that little drops of blood burst from them, and he is delighted with your taste.

And as soon as your ferrous taste hits his tongue, and your back arches as climax hits you, his does too. Filling you up, so good and so up to the brim. Giving you a smirk with a reddish trail on the commissure of his lips… ~

#king x reader #king the wildfire #op king #op king x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #wano kuni #beast pirates #hentober #kinktober #kinktober 2022

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hxneyhxrts · 3 years ago

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Sun Bleached || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 4)

Part 3

note: the way you guys are treating me and this fic, i’m so speechless i love you guys happy pride

warnings: explicit language, HINTS of suggestive themes

Colder Heavens

It had been a pleasant morning. Too pleasant, almost. Jake Seresin had been nothing but a complete gentleman (if not damn-near flirty) with her, and several times Gwyn found herself almost falling for her charms.

Almost.

She and Alec had wound up talking about the older man well into the morning hours after their rendezvous at the Hard Deck, until Alec’s teasing smirks and chorus of, “Awe, does somebody still have a crush on Hangman?” eventually became too much for her to bear.

They had arrived at base at the same moment as Seresin who jogged in front of them to hold open the door to the main atrium with a smile and something eerily close to wink.

Gwyn knew he must’ve had something he was plotting because, seriously, no one becomes this overbearingly nice in the span of a few hours. She briefly wondered if it had anything to do with his heated chat with Maverick that she had only caught the first part of, or if he was just manic enough to consider this normal.

Either way, she begrudgingly found herself almost enjoying his presence. Jake had immediately asked her to suit up for their outing (something she half wished he had forgotten because even though she insisted to Alec that her teeny tiny crush on the man was done away with, the thought of being in such close quarters with him made her blood hum), before stalking off to dress himself. She met him on the tarmac fifteen minutes later after several attempts at pep-talking herself in the mirror before Phoenix had walked in and interrupted her.

Jake’s helmet hung limply by his side, fingers strong and tanned. A grin erupted across his face as he spotted her, and she was torn between shying away from it and outright distaste at how uneasy it made her. Like a wolf snarling at its prey. Or a lover finding your eyes across the bar.

She didn’t know which was worse.

“Let’s do this,” he offered cheerily before helping to hoist her up into the cockpit without her asking him. The feeling of his hands grabbing at her hips made her nervous, but maybe not in the way she expected. That too, was almost enjoyable, and fuck this was making her head hurt.

She chalked it up to that old dormant string of affection from when she was young and impressionable, her first time seeing the great and powerful Jake Seresin enough to make her nearly infatuated with him. An old vacant feeling with no weight to it that was peeking its eye open at the sudden (and yes, okay, nice) change of pace with him. Pure psychology. He had been miserable to be around, so of course she was going to preen when he changed his tune, and her feelings were just being amplified by an old and long forgotten silly school girl crush. That was it.

Really, that was it.

“Canadee to control, asking for permission for take-off,” she mumbled once she and Jake had gotten situated, keenly aware of his stare on the back of her head. Despite the past few days, Gwyn was nervous to have him in her backseat. She wanted to impress him, if nothing else to land her and Alec a place on his team.

“You’re all clear, Cheek.”

And they were off. She stuck herself as close to textbook perfect as she could, keeping her hands firmly in place and double checking all of her gear as they ascended, and she vaguely remembered feeling the same kind of nervousness when she took her first flight. Jake was silent behind her and she wished he would say something just to break up the quiet and maybe make her breathe a bit easier.

“Cheating on me, G?”

Thank God for Alec Shaw.

She laughed before she could help herself, the sound filling her chest and the cockpit. “I guess I just have needs you can’t meet, sweetheart,” she snarked back and was met with the sound of masculine laughter ripping down the line. Not Alec’s.

Jake’s.

Alec’s chuckle followed closely behind, but she was still taken aback at hearing the squadron leader laugh. It was…

nice.

“What’s he got that I don’t have, darling?” The smile in Alec’s voice could be heard through the headset, and she was so thankful to have him covering her back, even from the ground.

“Couple of medals and a spot on the Top Gun plaque, for one,” she smirked, pulling down to level out across the clearing they had set aside for drills and dogfight practice.

“And he’s pretty easy on the eyes too, huh?”

Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t asked Alec to radio in.

Heat seared across her cheeks and down her chest, and her ears pricked at how distinctly silent Jake was now.

‘Say something,’ she urged herself. ‘Say literally anything.’

“Wouldn’t know, he’s behind me.”

Easy. This could be easy.

Alec didn’t seem to agree.

“Damn, first flight and he’s already got you from behind?”

And seriously, fuck her. The universe wanted her dead. Gwyn’s head was swimming with embarrassment, Hangman still deadly quiet behind her.

She swallowed, still trying to salvage what little dignity she had left in this hop. “Jealous?” she shoved back, and hated how her voice cracked.

“Of you, yes.”

A sigh of relief tore from her chest as Jake broke down into a fit of laughter, the sound of it almost deafening over the comms, but she smiled nonetheless. She’d still tear into Alec later for this whole exchange, but for now, the damage was lessening. Gwyn even found herself joining in on the laughter, small tears collecting in the corners of her eyes at the outrageous volume at which Jake was practically screeching at.

Finally settling down, he addressed her for the first time since they had hit open sky. “Alright, baby, show me this engine stunt.”

She couldn't even bring herself to be annoyed at the nickname, sides still aching from laughter and cheeks beginning to ache.

“Watch your head.”

—----

Gwyn was insane, Jake had decided.

The engine maneuver was genius, but the feeling of his body launching up towards the canopy as the plane dropped beneath him once it had stalled has almost made him vomit. Gwyn had only smiled and turned the engine over again, kicking it back on and pulling up, up, up.

It was incredible. Smart and tactical. Beyond anything he had ever seen in any dogfight, drill or not.

She was insane for even thinking of it.

Gwyn had offered to show him one more time and he had politely refused, sweat still trickling down his brow and nausea rolling through his stomach.

He silently prayed she hadn’t noticed.

Jake’s eyes had been locked on the back of her head and profile for most of the flight, only looking away to watch the landscape shift underneath them as they sailed for the rock and debris below. Besides that, though, he had only watched her.

‘To watch how she handles herself out here,’ he insisted to himself.

‘Sure,’ that internal echo slid back.

He was a pilot, and a damn good one at that, and now he was squadron leader. He only watched her so closely to get a read for her flying and gauge how she would fit in with the rest of them. Now, had he extended the same offer to any of the other Top Gun students in her class? No. But still he maintained that this flight and the way his eyes zeroed in on the curls at the nape of her neck and how they brushed against her skin was all part of his professional assessment.

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Gwyn was nervous having him in the plane, and where he normally would have felt pride at his effect on her, he could only feel something close to disappointment that she was most likely avoiding his eyes and conversation because of his behavior. Jake Seresin wasn’t one for level-headedness and hadn’t lived to regret it until now.

‘Just treat her like everybody else,’ echoed a voice eerily similar to Maverick’s.

Just like everybody else.

“Normally I’d take a woman to dinner before I hop into the cockpit with her,” he smirked, straining to get the words out against the discomfort practically choking him. Because this is how he joked around with his team, but somehow, the words made him nervous now. Nervous that she might lash out at him, ask him what his problem was (not that he wouldn’t deserve it), or reject him altogether.

He didn’t know what he would have preferred.

Anything would’ve been better than the disarming giggles she erupted into, head thrown back just enough for him to see a scuff along the top of her helmet. She settled into light huffs of laughter before replying, “I must be easy then, if all it took was a lemonade.”

Jake’s chest positively ached with how badly he wished he could see her face, and see the grin she was surly biting back and how it would light up her eyes.

‘To get an idea of her mood in the air,’ he forced himself to think while swallowing.

The rest of the flight passed in total silence, and Hangman wished it had been awkward and off-putting, but it wasn’t, quite the opposite actually. It was easy. It was so goddamn easy to just be quiet around her, and panic coursed through him as the weight of the situation settled in around him, absolutely suffocating.

Landing was a blur, and he almost ripped his seatbelt off in his attempt to tear out of the plane and put as much distance between them as possible. He had pulled himself out and down before Gwyn had even managed to pull her helmet off, already taking large strides towards the hangar. He vaguely registered Bradshaw calling after him as he paced down the hallway towards the rec room, thankfully finding it empty as he pushed in and basked in the quiet.

Quiet, until Bradshaw chased him down.

“I can’t do it,” Jake moaned. “I tried. I don’t know what it is about her that is so jarring, but I just can’t do it. I really did try, but I just don’t know what to do.”

Rooster clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a smile thinly lined with pity. Rooster never pitied him. “Relax man, it’s just a little crush. You’re a big boy, you’ll be fine once you settle down.”

Jake whirled on him, brow furrowed and face stern. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was Bradley’s turn to look confused, lips pulling together. “You and Cheek?”

“What am I, fucking twelve? I don’t have a crush on Cheek.” His voice was coming out hard and fast, pushing against the burning panic rising in him. “Why would you even say something like that?”

“Well you were being kind of an ass when we first met them. I figured it was your way of pinching the pretty girl at recess. Between that and your sudden shift to charming her out of her pants, I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Jake’s hands were throbbing from where he had them curled at his sides, nails slicing into his palm. He focused on the sting instead of the other man’s words. “Maverick told me to take it easy on her.”

Rooster snorted, a mean sound considering how Jake felt like he was fracturing right in front of him. “Yeah, but when have you ever listened to Maverick?” He shrugged, as if this whole topic were completely normal, and not a car crash playing out in front of him the way it was for Jake. “I just think you’ve got a thing for her. You like her.”

Silence.

Then,

“Oh my God, I like her.”

It was all happening too fast. “Like” didn’t even seem like an adequate enough word for what slammed into him. Images of her the first time he laid eyes on her, standing in the cockpit of her plane and grinning down at her team members huddled around her wing and the sun beat down on her. The first time he heard her laugh over the receiver and how it sunk him, completely and wholly taking him down. The way her hand had stretched to shake his and how small her fingers looked grasped in his calloused ones. The grossly overwhelming disappointment when he saw Alec yank her down into his lap, and the immediate nauseating want he felt seeing her shorts slide up her thighs as she fell. The rush of sliding next to her at the bar to be alone with her, just for a moment, and how addicting the feeling was (addicting enough for him to force her into a private flight the next day). The way he had taken the “long way” back to his house after leaving the bar in favor of making sure she made it to hers okay, resulting in him adding an extra thirty minutes to his drive.

How suffocating it had been to hear her laugh with him. Christ he hadn’t cared if she laughed at him at that moment, just to hear the sound directed at him. Just for him.

Anger roared through his skull.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, glaring at Bradley as he threw his hands up and began to pace. Rooster sputtered before outright laughing.

“Because you’re a grown fucking man? And I just assumed you knew!”

This was bad. This was so, so, so bad. Jake Seresin didn’t do this stuff. Sure, hookups occasionally as he bounced from base to base was okay, expected of him by now. But watching the way someone’s eyes drank him in and losing himself in the sensation, chasing it even, was completely different.

Nevermind that she was a coworker.

“Fuck me, I can’t put her on the team,” he decided, his shoes squeaking against the linoleum as he paced. Bradshaw let him mull it over for a few moments before growing restless and stopping him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Why not? She’s the most qualified, regardless of your feelings,” he reasoned, and fucking christ was he even listening to what Jake was saying?

“Sure, but if I add her to the team, she’s going to be around. All of the time.”

“So fucking what?” Rooster cried, throwing up his arms in distress. “Hang, it’s not a big deal. You’ll probably be over it in a week or two. Or maybe you’ll find something about her that you don’t like. Or maybe you won’t, who fucking cares? It’s going to be weirder if you don’t assign her after all of this and just push her off.”

He had a point Jake supposed. It still didn’t null the queasiness he felt.

“I don’t want her finding out, though. I just can’t deal with that right now. Not when I-” he cut himself off, scrubbing his hand down his face. “I just got the chance to show Mav and Cyclone that I can do this, I can’t have all of this,” he waved his hands between them, “ruining it. I don’t want her to know.”

“Then just do what Mav said and treat her like the rest of us. Do your thing, just be Hangman,” he sighed, heading for the door. “She’s just one of us, Jake.”

One of us.

She’s one of us.

And nothing more.

The door clicking shut was the only sign Bradshaw had left.

—---------

For all the funding the US Navy got every year, you’d think a sliver of it would go towards the A/C. Even a cold shower did nothing to cool Gwyn’s burning skin, chasing her into submission as she reluctantly pulled on the only pair of shorts and an old tank top shoved into the back of her locker. Certainly not in dress code, but the day was done she supposed, and she was heading out anyway.

Alec had already stopped by with promises of seeing her later for a movie and Chinese takeout from a small place just off the highway that they had found immediately after relocating to Miramar. Nights like these were her favorite, always putting a bounce in her step as she made her way through her shower routine. Rarely did she use the showers on base, but the thought of her sweat-slick skin sticking to her car seats changed her tune rather quickly.

The day had been good, she decided. Allowing herself to think so made her head a little clearer as if her being hellbent on despising a day with Hangman had fogged her brain.

Jake’s sudden change in pace and attitude was still massively suspicious, but selfishly, she wanted to relish in it. Not that she would ever admit that out loud, but in the privacy of the damp and humid locker rooms, she could admit that yes, it had been fun being out there with him. Even if she didn’t understand where this new side was coming from. Despite her better judgment, she found herself looking past the weirdness of it all and genuinely enjoying it.

Fuck.

Gwyn wanted to reprimand herself. Months. She had spent months working her way to the top of every class, base, or job they assigned her to, just to have a shot at getting into Top Gun. She had spent more time away from her family than ever before, only having time maybe once a week to have a quick chat over the phone with her dad and siblings before they were off to school or work and she was being called on to base. Everything in life had been forcefully shoved on to the backburner so that she could make room for Top Gun.

There were nights she would stay up and come close to sobbing at the idea that she was keeping Alec from the program and holding him back, so she had dug her heels in to everyone who would listen to her, jumped into any flight that needed a pilot, so that they would see her. For Alec and for their shared dream of being the best, she had forced out everything else.

And she was going to lose sight of it all if she didn’t get a reign on whatever it was she felt when Jake Seresin smiled.

But those were thoughts she could pour over later in the comfort of her own bed as she and her cat tucked in for a long, sleepless night. For now, she had a movie night to set up, and these kinds of thoughts and confusions had no place there, in her sanctuary.

She would cross that bridge later, then.

Closing her locker with a loud ‘clang’, Gwyn strode to the door, shutting off the lights before pulling the heavy door open and finding Hangman leaning against the opposite wall.

His spine straightened at the sight of her, and his eyes trailed down her chest to her legs before snapping back up to meet hers. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks at being caught out of dress code by who she hoped to soon call “squadron leader”, but even more so, at seeing him after spending the last several minutes thinking of him.

She swallowed. “Lieutenant Seresin, hi. I was just-”

He cut her off, as if snapping back into his own head when she spoke. “I was just coming to congratulate you. After your graduation on Wednesday, you and Lieutenant Shaw will be formally invited to join my team.” He put his hand out stiffly, his eyes darting everywhere but her face. “I look forward to working with you, Gwyn,” he said in a hush.

Her hand closed around his, and she chalked up the flip in her stomach to excitement about his invitation.

And if she held on to his hand for a bit longer than necessary, who cared?

Jake’s eyes finally met hers as he pulled away, offering her a small smile before retreating down the hall.

Had Gwyn been watching him walk away, she would’ve seen the way his hand, the one that had gripped hers, flexed and curled against his side.

Part 5

taglist: @rachelccollier @my-soulmate-is-mycroft

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #jake hangman x reader

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