#especially when you can't be with the one you want despite both of you admitted you feelings for one another
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n3felibata · 3 days ago
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This is gonna be a hot take, but it bothers me when people say that Phoenix became an attorney JUST for Edgeworth.
Yes, Edgeworth is a big part of the reason he became a lawyer. Yes, Phoenix went to law school after finding out he's the "demon prosecutor" now. Hell, I'll even outright admit that Phoenix would not be an attorney if it weren't for Edgeworth.
But that's the only reason he stands in court. Goodness, no. It goes deeper than that, and it has a lot to do with Phoenix's depth and the overall message of Ace Attorney.
First of all, in the first few minutes of the very first game, Phoenix outright says that Larry is part of the reason he became a lawyer, too.
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(Really, I feel like some of you are forgetting that Larry defended him that day as well...)
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And second of all, there's the fact that he continues to be a lawyer in Justice for All despite thinking Edgeworth was dead for most of that game. And I have to admit it's been a while since I've played Justice For All, but I remember him defending his clients just as passionately as he does in any other game.
Edgeworth directly asks Phoenix in this same game why he stands in court, and Phoenix responds by saying this:
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At least him saying in PWAA that he stood up for Maya because he "can't just abandon her" and "someone has to look out for people with no one on their side" is only one dialogue option out of three.
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But telling Edgeworth he wants to save lives is the only answer the player can give to that question. Because it's the correct one. Phoenix Wright has a huge sense of justice, and it's a big part of his character.
This is why Phoenix hates prosecutors so much, or more specifically the ones that only stand in court to "win" rather than to actually seek the truth. And that's probably also why the writers continously make the antagonists of these games people who fit that exact description.
And yes, his backstory (or at least this specific part of it) may not be as traumatic as the other characters', but it doesn't need to be. This kind of stuff can seriously impact a child, especially when the teacher themselves in joining in on the bullying. His clients are going through worse, yes, but regardless, this experience taught him that people will assume the worst in you with little to no evidence and what it means to have someone believe in you when no one else will. He wants to be there for people going through worse than him, and that's valid. Not every character needs to be an orphan or rape victim or something to be an intriguing character with reasonable motivations and experiences that are meaningful to them.
Again, I'm not denying that Edgeworth is a huge part of why he went to law school (and thank goodness he did because I can't imagine what would've happened to Edgeworth if he never became an attorney...), but saying that Edgeworth is the ONLY factor feels like it's not only disacknowledging Phoenix's depth and reducing his character to just his relationship with Edgeworth, but also feels like it's disacknowledging the themes of justice in the writing of the game itself. Like no offense, but how did y'all manage to take what's clearly meant to be a satirical call out to Japan's flawed justice system and reduce it to just "yaoi"?
I LOVE wrightworth, but sometimes it feels like some people are so fixated on it that they forget that both Wright and Edgeworth are still their own complex individuals with depth outside of their relationship with each other.
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oodlyenough · 2 days ago
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more arcane s2 thoughts in no particular order. this is pretty negative. woops
Cait, Vi, Caitvi
despite being what initially got me watching to begin with caitvi just never ended up being my primary interest with this show, so going into s2 it wasn't like I had very well formulated expectations or hopes. I think if I had I would maybe feel disappointed? They had some nice moments, they got the kiss and the sex scene, they're clearly endgame, etc, and that's nice, but it also felt like their relationship was so ... never really the star of the show or focus of the story to the extent I expected it to be. Did they even get a big fight-together battle-couple moment in the last ep, I don't think so? I didn't find the resolution to their Act 1 breakup especially good, I think Caitlyn owed Vi an apology and Vi deserved to be angry for longer than ten seconds.
I generally feel across both seasons that Vi's pain and trauma is rarely given as much weight as other characters', I was pretty underwhelmed by Caitlyn's dictator arc after being extremely interested in it at the end of act 1...
I dunno. I hope their stans liked it and are satisfied getting to see them kiss and have sex and be together and I wouldn't downplay the significance of The Couple in Arcane being a lesbian couple. But I wasn't personally very compelled or moved by it.
Jinx
Like the above I'm not a Jinx academic by any means but I think if I were I would be frustrated by how cyclical her arc was in season 2. And no, having Silco show up to be like "it's a cycle" doesn't really justify the narrative interludes. Isha is a hard sell of a character for me because I don't ... generally want little kid characters around ... and I found Jinx (basically) looking straight into the camera to say "gee you are just like me, Powder, when I was a little kid, which reminds me of being Powder, is this how Silco felt, is this how Vi felt" to be hamfisted. But some of the scenes with the two of 'em and Sevika were cute ... only for Isha to die and Jinx to be depressed, again, and then come through the other side, again, and then "die", again. Like if we wanted to deal with depressed Jinx we started off s2 that way...
I've seen other posts by Jinx fans that articulate much better the ways in which she goes from the driving plot force in s1 and main autonomous actor to just kind of being wafted around by plot in season 2 so I won't repeat them. But I think they are right. I also question the way her mental illness was portrayed -- or rather wasn't... -- in season 2. Powder in the AU showing no sign of illness (despite baby Powder in the main timeline already having some of that going on, pre-Vander death)... I mean, sure, she's got a support system etc in that world, and one can argue we don't spend enough time with AU Powder to necessarily see it, but combined with the Isha stuff it just kind of felt like a weird message.
Sevika
I love Sevika, one of my faves from s1. I was so excited she seemed to get a bigger role in act 1 and then in the first ep of act 2. And then she never spoke again. What the hell man... like damn... really?????!? Not a WORD in act 3? I'm sure this was some of the stuff they trimmed to get that finale down to 50 minutes but god that sucks, so much, in ways a wordless shot of her in the council chamber can't really resolve. Which leads me to
Piltover-Zaun
I have to admit I don't think the class politics in s1 are as good as they were reported to be, so I didn't have high hopes, but MAN is Piltover going "hey we need cannon fodder <3 thanks" not... a reasonable resolution... especially after an indeterminate time of Piltover being EVEN MORE oppressive with Caitlyn enforcing martial law. It was sooooooooo ridiculous. Also, lol @ the show acting like hextech is solely responsible for the suffering of the undercity. If only Vi, Jayce and Viktor weren't around we'd have a equitable utopia. Sure Jan.
Sky
One of the most offensively written female characters I've seen in recent media. A spectacular, zero-effort failure from the writers. What a horrible decision to write this poor girl, a Black woman no less, and give her absolutely no characterization outside of an unrequited crush on a gay white man. In season 1 I could forgive most of it because a show like Arcane needs redshirts and it's just unfortunate they made this particular redshirt a young Black woman. There are so many other complex and developed women in the show, I thought, they can afford to have some minor ones who aren't.
But oh my god season 2. The ghost hallucination which they never even clarify as being "really" Sky or just being the Hexcore or just being his own imagination of guilt because neither the show nor Viktor give enough of a fuck to explain fhglakhdglh. Even posthumously she barely has any dialogue except to reference off-screen conversations with Viktor we never see them have and then die again. "No you won't" ?????? It is ridiculous that they wrote this.
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miss0atae · 2 months ago
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Phun or the many faces of jealousy -- LoveSick 2024 (EP 4)
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envy-of-the-apple · 9 months ago
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Exception
Dark!Geto Suguru x reader
5.8k wc
Synopsis: You never bothered with Suguru's crush on you, knowing it would fade. After meeting him again years later, you make the horrible discovery that his feelings for you have only festered.
(Warnings: yandere, dark content, murder of a side character, slight gore, violence, rape/noncon, vaginal fingering, piv sex, unsafe sex)
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When you were in your first year of college, you got a part-time job at a nearby cafe. 
It was easy work. Make coffee. Bake some pastries. Attend to the customers. Nothing too unmanageable. It was an insignificant part of your life. 
Then, Gojo and Geto came along.
 
Insufferably annoying. Especially, the loud one. They always caused a havoc in the cafe, often to the point where the manager had to physically kick them out. It was a turbulent two weeks, until one day you promised them if they kept it down, you'd let them try a few of your experimental pastries. 
Really, it was your own damn fault. They started coming every day after that, mostly to bother you. The only reason management hadn't outright banned them was probably because Gojo made 50% of their entire revenue. 
You warmed up to them eventually. Your fake smiles turned into more amused ones because of their antics. Once or twice, they'd get a good laugh out of you. You've heard rumors of a private, religious highschool nearby. You always assumed they were a byproduct of that. 
Eventually, Gojo becomes Satoru. Geto becomes Suguru. Nice kids, if not a bit overzealous. Despite refusing to hang out with them after work, you had to admit, you grew a bit attached to them. You found yourself asking about their day, hiding sweets for the two of them, sometimes you'd even let them steal a croissant or two. 
You bet the reason they hung around you was because, to them, you were some cool college student. Secretly, you found it a little flattering. Some days, their friendship was the highlight of your shift. It's clear Satoru is always the instigator, always looking like he's about to bounce off the walls (you have told him to lay off the sugar), it's not like Suguru was any better. He tried to act like he was the more refined part of the friendship. He often fails, at least in your eyes. 
It becomes pretty apparent that Suguru had a crush on you. You're not sure when exactly you started to notice the bashful looks, the slight flush on his cheeks whenever you accidentally brush his hand, the fact that he visits far more often (even though Satoru has the sweet-tooth) but you can't unsee it now. It doesn't help that Satoru looks downright giddy whenever his friend talks to you, barely controlling his giggles in the background. His reaction and Suguru's irritation often start a few skirmishes right outside the cafe doors. You've told them multiple times to take their fights in the alley at least. They never listened. 
For his sake, you don't acknowledge it, already knowing what it is. A schoolyard crush. Harmless, it'll pass. Eventually, when you're a distant memory to them, Satoru will tease him about it and Suguru will give a playful elbow nudge. Much to your relief, Suguru doesn't pull you to the side and confess. He's refined, in that way, never giving too much until you have the evidence and clues yourself. 
It continued like that for months. And then, something changed. 
They stopped coming around as much. Daily visits turned weekly. Weekly turned to every so often. Their energy felt off too. Satoru seemed the same as always, if not a bit more mellowed out. It was Suguru you mainly worried for. Each time he returned, he looked worse and worse. Darker circles. Eyes filled with exhaustion. 
You pull him aside eventually, asking if anything is going on, asking if he's okay, asking if he wants to talk. As sincerely as you can, you tell him that you're here for him. He at least attempts to smile at that. When you press, he shakes his head. 
"It's nothing," you both know he's lying, "it's just....it's nice to see that there is one exception." 
A little while after that, they stop coming entirely. You notice, but you aren't able to focus on it. School gets harder, you're cutting back your work to focus on it. You don't even recognize Satoru at first when he walks in nearly a year later. 
He's different. So much taller. Despite being a few years younger than you...he doesn't feel like a kid anymore. An easygoing smile is pulled on his face when he sees you, giving a lazy wave. You return it, though a bit hesitant. He talks to you as though no time has passed at all, asking what you made for him this time. He talks fast. His voice is too laid back. Too casual. Like he's avoiding something. You think you know what. 
"Where's Suguru?" you ask when you glance behind Satoru for the third time, "I haven't seen him around lately." 
He freezes, like he's been dreading that question ever since he came in. Finally, he shrugs, making a noncommital hum. His sunglasses obscure his eyes but it isn't enough to hide how cold he suddenly turned. Satoru seems to realize that too. His answer is pulled by reluctance. 
"We don't talk anymore." He doesn't say anything more. You don't need him to.
When he pulls out his wallet, you tell him it's on the house. He looks at you then. His mouth opens, searching for the right words. He waits too long. His mask slips back into place. 
Gojo grins at you, painfully fake. 
"Take care of yourself, will ya?" 
You never see him again after that. You know it's your fault. 
You think about them every so often when you can, Suguru especially. He rests in the back of your mind like an old piece of furniture you can't bring yourself to throw out. Suguru sometimes haunts your dreams with his darkened eyes and the pure brokenness on his face. For some reason, you think you failed him somehow. You felt like you could have done more. Maybe, if you'd tried harder to reach out, things would have been different. Two boys wouldn't be utterly heartbroken. 
Years pass by. You quit working at the cafe. You graduate college. You move cities. You get a job. Eventually, you settle into a nice apartment. You forget all about your days in that quaint little restaurant, your attention hogged by a couple of annoying high schoolers. You don't think about Satoru for years. You don't think about Suguru for years. 
Until one day, when he calls your name in the street. 
He was bigger now, towering over you with broad shoulders. His hair was longer, darker too, less of a green, more black. He's ditched his school uniform, trading it for a more casual outfit. It's his face that makes you hesitate before you use your voice, that same smile, physically at least. He looks the same, but then he doesn't. 
"...Suguru?" It's a question because you're still not sure. 
He smiles wider. 
"Long time, huh?" 
Somehow, your reunion culminates in a restaurant. You still feel out of it, somehow, like you're watching yourself in an out-of-body experience. Between the food and him, you're not sure if you can even believe it. 
He tells you he heads a temple now. A pious man. You shouldn't be surprised, considering his education, but you never knew he was so invested in religion. The two of you converse about other meaningless things. The conversation becomes less stilted. More sincere. You learned your lesson from last time. You don't bring up Satoru unless he does. 
Much to your disappointment, he doesn't. 
Compared to yours, his life is so crazy. Not just with the temple. Suguru tells you he's a father now too. Adopted two little girls. He's barely 22. You can barely hold your disbelief, shaking your head as you take another sip of your coffee. 
"In any case," you say when the conversation draws to a lull, "I'm just really glad you're happy, Suguru. You deserve it." 
When Suguru gives you a questioning look, you continue. 
"The last time we saw each other, you looked miserable." 
 His eyes widen in realization before a laugh bubbles out of his throat. Deep, rich like chocolate. 
"Back then, I was going through a lot." He sighs. "I was figuring out what I wanted. It...it was a tough time for me." 
You nod along, hoping you aren't forcing him to pry. However, the Suguru you're faced with now doesn't seem like that type of person anymore. He won't give if you press. He talks on his own terms. You never once thought of him as a pushover, but he's less open now. Perhaps it's because he's no longer a child. 
Suguru smiles then, a little more sincere than his first. 
"You know...I've always wanted to thank you." 
You tilt your head. "What for?" 
He plays with his empty cup like he's searching for the answer himself. "You gave me hope when no one else did. Everyone was so quick to tell me if I was wrong or right."
He leans back on his chair, eyes drifting towards the ceiling, "Other humans, they're always so enraptured by their own lives. You were the only person who reached out. At least, who cared enough to." 
The guilt from years ago slipped back into your throat. So he had been suffering. You should have done more. He was just a kid. They both had been. You could have done something. Maybe you could have saved a little more.
His hand finds yours on the table. They're rough, calloused. You can feel the scars. He squeezes your fingers. 
"Thank you," he murmurs, "For being an exception." 
You squeeze back. 
It's a tumultuous friendship, at first. It's much like a burn. Sensitive, it hurts at first. The wound is too fresh. Eventually, dead skin and memories fade away. You find yourself texting him. Once a week. Maybe a little more, if you get brave enough. 
Once, he sends you a picture of a white cat lounging in a sunbeam.
looks like Satoru, he types. 
(You stare at the caption for a long longer than necessary.)
It does, you send back.
You visit his temple once. He invited you, actually. A free tour, he had joked. It was beautiful. A large expansive garden filled with all types of flowers. The courtyard felt like it stretched for miles. That was just the outskirts of the temple. The building was something else entirely. A large ceiling. Expansive walls. White pillars that keep going higher and higher and higher. 
You notice his followers are everywhere. Most carry the same smile on their face. Bright, happy, cheery, but too strained. Like it's a job for them. It feels weird to say, but he fits nicely here. You think that because this wasn't the place you thought Suguru would end up. He dons the traditional clothing perfectly. Like they were made for him. They probably were, considering how high his reputation was. 
If he hadn't had the same face, the same hair color. You wouldn't have recognized him at all. He's managed to replace every single thing in his life with something new. It doesn't go unnoticed by you that you're the only thing he keeps from the past. A momento of sorts. You're a keepsake, for him. You don't mind the symbolism. You've always been easily flattered. 
You just failed to realize that not all of his feelings had changed. 
It was in front of your house. After, yet another visit to the temple (much at Suguru's insistence), he'd offered to walk you home. You would have declined if it wasn't so dark out. In the end, you accept his offer. 
"The girls have come to like you," Suguru says after a lull of pleasant silence. When you glance at him, you find his eyes on you. 
"Have they?" you prod. 
In all honestly, you didn't think they liked you at all at first. You don't have that much experience with young children, but you found it odd how unnerved Nanako and Mimiko seemed to get around you, practically hiding behind their father's figure, peeking out with untrusting eyes. Suguru had to gently coax them out with soft words, insisting that you were a close friend of his, you were 'different'. 
"Yes, they talk about you all the time," he continues, rolling his eyes in affection, "Mimiko especially gets very animated." 
Your heart skips a beat at his answer. You never felt one way or the other about children, but it felt nice when two little girls felt so highly about you. Those two especially. 
"It must be from all the sweets I bribed them with," you say, jokingly, "Please tell me I didn't cause them any stomach aches." 
He laughs, light and pretty. 
"It's not that," he responds, "it's because of you, mostly. You're different from the others."
You smile, but it's half-hearted, an attempt more than anything. It takes you a while for you to work up for the question. For some reason, you feel a bit nervous, like you're stepping on something you shouldn't be. 
"Different," you start, "you keep saying that. What does that mean? What am I different from?" 
He stops, just at the entrance of your flat. Suguru's fingers drum on his pants. You stare at him. He stares right back. 
"You are different, in so many different ways," he says, though it feels as though he's speaking to himself, rather than you. 
He takes a step forward. Tiny, he barely even moved. And yet, the distance between the two of you has vanished completely. 
"You've always been. Different from everyone else. The only one." You can't tell if he cut himself off, or if there was truly nothing else to say. 
It was barely a kiss. His lips brushed against yours, barely touching. Soft, like he cherished you the most out of all his possessions. The gentleness of it all is enough for you to freeze. 
Then his hand curls around your waist, and you jolt back into your body. 
You splay your hands on his chest, pushing him away until you have enough momentum to step back. His loose hold on you falls away. You can't look at him, even when you can feel his stare burn into you. 
"Suguru," you say, because you're mind is still running to catch up to your heart, "I-we-" 
Your name being called stops your babbling. You don't think he saw, god you hoped he hadn't. When you look over, he's smiling, so you don't think he did. He was never one to hide his feelings. Still, you step away from Suguru, ignoring how stiff the man had become. 
"Hey," you say, mostly out of relief because you couldn't deal with this anymore. When he wraps you into a hug and a chaste kiss, you wordlessly accept. Suguru's gaze on your back only gets stronger. 
"Who's this?" he asks, gesturing at Suguru. Your smile falters as you glance at Suguru. His face was blank. He wasn't even smiling anymore as he continued to stare at your man. 
"A friend," you say before Suguru can make this already worse, "and he was just leaving." 
"Oh," he says, before smiling down at you. Delightfully oblivious. 
"We'll talk later, okay Suguru?" You send Suguru a hurried smile before dragging him into your shared flat. 
You lock the door behind you. He says something just then, you laugh, trying so hard not to sense Suguru's presence through the door. You don't think he leaves. Not for a good long while. 
You don't speak to Suguru, after that. 
You wince whenever you see his name through your contact list now, as though even seeing a remnant of him is painful. You don't go to the temple anymore. Your communication with the girls turns nonexistent. 
Suguru hasn't said anything to you either. The line has grown dead both ways. 
You feel guilty, even though you know it wasn't your fault, you still can't help but wonder if you could have done something different. Did you do something that made him think you were interested? You probably had, knowing how unaware you could be, sometimes. You couldn't help but feel ecstatic when the two of you reconnected again. You'd been so excited for Suguru, happy for him because he'd finally found his way. You didn't know he still liked you after all these years. It was a schoolyard crush, at least, it was supposed to be.
Looking back, you didn't think you'd even told Suguru that you were already seeing someone. One blunder after a blunder. 
It must have been embarrassing for him, you can't help but think. Even when he was younger, Suguru had always held onto his pride dearly. You don't know if your friendship could ever be the same after this, but you'd like to extend the olive branch. If he'd take it. 
You tell your boyfriend about the incident eventually. You know it's not your fault, but you still feel like it is. He takes it well, once you explain, looking at you sweetly. 
"I could tell something was going on between you and him," he says, "but thanks for telling me." 
"You aren't mad?" you ask, half-afraid of the answer. 
"At you? Course not. Him, however"- he made a swing motion with his fist "-he does something like that again and I'll punch his lights out." 
You laugh, knowing it's a joke, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He beams. 
It takes a week of radio silence to forget about the mishap. You're humming a song you've forgotten the lyrics to when you arrive at your apartment. Your boyfriend said that he was coming home early tonight. You'd planned something quiet for the evening. A movie, cheap drinks. 
"Welcome home." Suguru grins. You freeze. 
He sits on the couch, splayed out like he belonged there. He's not wearing his priest garment, now garbed with a simple shirt and jeans. It takes a minute for you to figure out what you're looking at. Slowly, you close the door behind you. 
"Hey," you say, hoping your tone doesn't indicate just off-put by this encounter you are.
Suguru doesn't seem to mind your reluctance. 
"He let me in." Suguru points to somewhere behind you. Oh, your boyfriend is probably in the bathroom. "He was such a nice man. You were very lucky." 
"Thank you," you find yourself saying, "I am." 
His smile grows bigger, and you wonder if there's a joke you aren't let in on. Like he's saying something that's going right above your head. 
When you take a glance behind you, your partner is nowhere to be seen. It makes you wonder if you should say something to Suguru right now. Mend the bridge that's shattered between you. Currently, he seemed to be in a good mood. 
"Suguru," you start, taking a tiny step forward. You twiddle with your fingers. 
"Listen, I'm really sorry for how things went the last time we met. I just-" He hushes you, putting a finger to his lips. 
"You shouldn't air out your affairs in front of him like that," he tells you, "you might hurt his feelings." 
What? You look behind you again. Nothing. 
Suguru laughs. It sounds off. Wordlessly, he points behind you again but angles his finger a tiny bit higher. You follow his direction. 
Immediately, you wish you hadn't. 
He's in pieces, scattered all over the ceiling. A hand is above the door, a leg is above the kitchen. It's like his appendages were chopped before being glued onto the ceiling. There's no blood, just body parts. 
The worst part was that he was still alive. His head was still attached to his torso, the only part of him that was still intact. His mouth was open, his eyes were wide, and it took you a second that he was trying to tell you something. Repeating a word over and over. 
Run. 
Your hand covers your mouth as you continue to stare up at him. What was left of him. You think your knees are threatening to give before Suguru's holding you up. You can feel him lead you towards the couch, sitting you down in the plush mattress. He curls an arm around you, letting out a sigh.
"I meant what I said." Suguru adjusts your hair. "He was such a nice man, for a monkey anyway."
It doesn't occur to you that Suguru had done this until he speaks. You'd known Suguru said he performed exorcisms in his temple. You didn't-you couldn't-
"You?" you can barely push the wavering words out, "you-how-Suguru-" 
He hushes you, drawing you closer to his body. You're completely dwarfed by him as he rests his head on your neck, breathing in your scent. You are barely coherent, sucking in air as your voice dissolves into sobs. 
"I would have liked it if things hadn't turned out this way," he sighs, "but I don't believe it would have turned out any differently." 
His tone is almost pitying. 
"You may be the exception, but you are still one of them. Unaware of the true hierarchy." Suguru hums. 
"That's alright. It wasn't your fault. You were simply born this way," he continues, "I don't mind teaching you." 
You wiggle, trying your hardest to get out of his grip. Suguru only clicks his tongue. A harsh grip on your waist is enough to still you. You can't understand what's going on, maybe you never will, but you know one thing. You let a monster back into your life. Geto Suguru was not the same person you knew when you were younger. 
Or perhaps, he was always this way. He was just better at hiding it, back then. 
"I'm sorry," you finally let out, "Suguru, I'm-I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever-whatever you want. Anything just please please please-" 
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for him," Suguru doesn't sound too apologetic, "though, I could put him out of his pain. Would you like that?" 
You didn't need him to elaborate. Suguru would kill him. Or perhaps he was already dead. His moving eyes, his twitching lips, were all just muscle memory. The last of his brain synapses. There was no science, no magic, that could bring him back from this. 
And maybe, that tiny selfish part of you wanted to stop seeing his mangled body. 
You nod and you can feel Suguru's grin. He snaps his fingers. The thing disappears, vanishes into mist. 
"All gone!" Suguru declares. "There. Isn't that better?" 
You wince when he touches your face, brushing away the tears. You're too scared to do anything more. You don't fight when he kisses your neck. You don't fight when he kisses your jaw. You don't fight when he kisses your lips. 
It's with the same gentleness as the last time he'd kissed you, right outside of your apartment. Soft, warm, loving. 
You start sobbing then. Ugly, heaving, heartbroken. He takes it in stride, humming as he pushes your body down until your back is pressed on the couch. His lips brush your damp cheek. 
"There's no need to be afraid." Through your tears, you can see him smiling down at you. "The worst has passed. I'll take care of you from now on." 
The worst part about all of this is how honest he sounds. Like he truly believes he's doing this for your good. It makes you wonder who the delusional one is. Him or you. 
He's tuts in sympathy as you lay there, shivering underneath him.
"You must be so confused, poor thing." He tilts his head, the back of his fingers stroking your cheeks. "I should explain, shouldn't I? Unfortunately, I'm more interested in other things right now."
You must look horrible, but Suguru doesn't seem to mind, bending down, melding your lips with his. He sighs, like he'd waited eons for this. You stiffen when you feel his hands play with the band of your skirt. As if he can feel your beginnings of struggle, he pulls back, staring you down. Brown, almost black, eyes peer down at you. There's a hint of a warning curling on his lip. 
You still immediately. If he could do that, what could he do to you?
"None of that," he chides, and yet he's so painfully gentle about it, "be good." 
What was he? How did he do this? How could he? You want to ask them all but you can only get one out when you lift your head, getting your voice to work. 
"Why?" 
You don't know what you're asking. He clearly does. Another soft smile. You wish you could tear it off his face. 
"You were always the exception, even back then," He says quietly into the stale air of the apartment. His eyes drift and you wonder if he's remembering the you all those years ago, secretly passing pastries to him and Satoru, giggling at jokes only a highschooler could make. "The only one of the humans who didn't utterly disgust me." 
Fingers reach for the hem of your skirt, pushing it up your bare legs. 
"And it's natural, isn't it? To protect the exceptions, the rarities of the world," he says, "To keep them away from the impure." 
You start crying again. He patiently hushes you, kissing away your tears. This time, you don't bother putting up a fight. You just squeeze your eyes closed, flinching when he reaches to your inner thighs, feeling the cotton of your panties. His breath hitches. So does yours. 
He bypasses the cloth with two dexterous fingers. When he touches the skin, you flinch, trying to squeeze your thighs closed. It doesn't help. Suguru leans forward, you can feel his breath on your cheek as you shiver underneath him. He finds your clit, teasing it with a calloused thumb. You think you're mouthing it, even when you can't bring yourself to say it. Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me. 
He doesn't listen. You don't know if he heard it or not. It didn't matter, either way. It wasn’t like he was planning to stop.
Despite how much you don’t want this, your body doesn’t listen. His touch is gentle, soothing on your pussy despite the horrors you’ve seen him do. It doesn’t take long for your cunt to adjust, dripping.
There’s a satisfied sigh above you and you know Suguru had felt it too.
One finger pushes into you. You gasp, curling your back, unprepared but Suguru’s giving a pleasant hum, easing you into it. Despite how humiliating this entire situation is, your one reprieve is being able to bury your head into his neck, keeping yourself there as he continues to have his way with your body. You can feel him kiss the crown of your head, an action that completely juxtapositions another finger entering your wet hole.
He’s gentle, but not slow. He fingerfucks you with earnestness, curling his fingers when your walls tighten around him. Your crying is interrupted by the reluctant moans and gasps every time he presses deeper into you, finding a spot that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You bit your lip, keeping the noises inward. He tuts at that.
“Don’t be shy,” he coos in your ear, “it’s okay to enjoy it. I want you to.”
As if to highlight his words, he gives another particularly intense push, you wince when you can hear the wet squelch of his fingers.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Suguru asks, “I could always be this nice with you.” You let out a squeak when his thumb presses against your clit, unable to keep it in. Suguru gives a breathy laugh.
His other hand starts to explore, reaching up to your button-up, flicking them off with a single-experienced hand. The bra you wore is barely seductive, but Suguru’s tracing the ends of it anyway, touching the fabric just by your skin before pushing the undergarment down.
Whether it’s from the air or his fingers fucking your pussy, your tits are already sensitive. You let out a breathy whine when Suguru grips on of them too hard, squeezing the fat in his large hands.
“So sweet for me.” You can hear the smile on his lips.
Everything becomes too much, and before you can think, your hand is shooting down, grabbing onto his wrist, squeezing as hard as you can, your nails digging into his skin. Your other is pushing against his shoulder. He barely seemed to even notice, holding you down with his weight, thrusting in his fingers all the way to the knuckle.
“Suguru I-” It’s supposed to be another plea for him to stop, but your weak voice calling out his name only seems to excite him further. His thumb dances on your swollen clit, his fingers never relenting until he’s pushing you higher and higher until you fall.
White hot electric pleasure snaps within you, forcing your body to jolt, as you curl up from the sofa. You think he’s saying something, words of comfort as though he could be any crueler, but you’re not listening. You came so hard you almost forget where you are, who you’re with. You can feel Suguru watching until you fall against the cushion again, utterly spent. Your grip slackens against his wrist, before falling away completely.
“See? Didn’t I say I’ll take care of you?” You don't even have the energy to glare at him.
He’s giving another laugh, kissing your cheek before he’s leaning back. His fingers slip out of you, and then there’s a sucking sound. You can’t help it, blinking open your eyes. Suguru stares back at you, eyes half-mast, a pink tongue flicking out to lick at his fingers before he puts them in his mouth completely, swallowing down the evidence of your orgasm. A lewd moan escapes him, muffled. You once again wished you hadn’t looked.
You’re already expecting it, but you still flinch when you hear the zipper loud and clear. He moves his jeans low enough to pull out his cock. He’s already hard, a bead of precum right at the tip as he gives a few cursory pumps. He’s big, you blearily realize. Despite the mind-numbing orgasm he’d just given you, you doubt it’d be enough to even take him.
“It won’t fit,” you find yourself whispering.
Suguru just hums in acknowledgement, giving you a knowing look as he finishes tugging off your panties. The fabric slides off your shaking leg before dropping onto the carpeted floor.
It’s too late for a fight, but you’re rising anyway, pressing your hands against the cushions, trying to create some space. Suguru is quick to shut it down again, leaning back into you as he palms himself some more.
“You’ll be alright,” he assures but it doesn’t help the panic the fear in your soul, “I cherish you too much to break you.”
With little effort, he spreads your thighs. His cock rubs against you once, twice, before entering your throbbing pussy.
Already it’s too much. He’s thick, stretching out your walls, threatening to rip you in half. You close your eyes again, squeezing them shut as the pain starts to edge a little too close to bloody. Helpless, your hand finds his shoulder, not pushing but digging your nails into his shirt. He purrs when you grip him tighter, moving until he’s seated fully into you.
He stays like that, keeping himself there as your walls squeeze him tighter. It’s almost a relief that it ended, but now, he’s taken everything.
“Look at me.”
His voice is rough, almost a rasp, an order. You find yourself obeying. Through your tears, you blink up at him, finding his gaze.
He stares down at you, a look of satisfaction in his eyes and you don’t think you are yours anymore.
He pulls back, your cunt tries to suck him back in, but he drags his cock out anyway until only his head is barely inside.
“Perfect,” Suguru murmurs as though it’s a secret not even you should hear, “absolutely perfect.”
You cry out when he pushes back in. It’s a gentle pace, slow and steady like he’s easing you into it. He’s being kind, you finally realize, a thought that makes your skin crawl. It’s so much worse than if he had been nasty. Harsh and biting with thrusts that would make your body sore and weak afterwards. If he was abusive, not caring about you, just his own pleasure. You wish Suguru was being mean, being cruel. At least then, you wouldn’t like it.
Despite the unexpected size, your body is adjusting. Pain ripples into reluctant pleasure, numbing your mind as his hips meet yours. It gets even worse when Suguru leans down, biting and sucking at your tits, enough for there to leave a mark. Something that will bruise and remind you of what he did.
“You don’t know how long I wanted this,” he’s saying somewhere above you but your head is swimming and you can’t focus where you want to, “how long I’ve wanted you like this.”
Suguru sits up again, grabbing one of your legs, hiking your hips up so his cock can go that much deeper inside of you. You babble something that you yourself can’t decipher. Suguru’s lips curl into another painfully soft smile.
“Ever since highschool,” he’s confessing like he’s a sinner and you’re his God but you know that isn’t true because what sort of god would be humiliated like this? “Remember that apron you wore?”
His hand reaches over, spreading over your pussy, stretching the fatty part of your cunt so he can have a better view of him disappearing inside of you.
“I always wondered what you’d look like wearing nothing but that on, spread out on the counter for me.”
He flicks your clit, and for the second time that day, you can feel yourself crashing. As though he can sense it, his thrusts shorten, grinding against your pussy and there’s a hand catching your chin, forcing you to look.
Suguru’s smile is gone, replaced by a snarl that promises to eat you alive. His eyes are blown wide, and he’s gritting his teeth, barely holding control by a hair.
“Come for me.”
You’re too far gone to do anything but listen.
You stutter in his grasp, arching your back, cumming with a breathy whine. It’s like a tide, pushing you out into sea, refusing to take you in. Unconsciously, the leg he holds tightens around his waist as you pulse around his cock.
He follows after, barely holding himself together, not when your cunt is milking him for all its’ worth. There’s a few particularly harsh thrusts before something warm and sticky fills your battered pussy before he's falling into you, pressing your body against the soft cushions.
You lay there, panting with him on top of you. Slowly, you come back to yourself, feeling your arms your legs. Your brain resets, and you’re suddenly remembering that you have a murderer’s cock inside of you.
Suguru’s face is buried in your neck. He gives a shaky kiss to your jaw; another on the corner of your lips. You can only stare at the ceiling, where the remnants of a body used to be.
"You know, the girls have always wanted a mother," Suguru's saying into your skin.
"I'm sure they will be very pleased with my choice."
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hopelessdazai · 8 months ago
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✿ 》 To Hold or Be Held?
╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; writing witj this many characters was scary . pls ignore any typos or errors or mischaracterisation im learning. reblogs appreciated!!
╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; Chuuya, Dazai, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Nikolai, Fyodor, gn!reader ( fem terms in fyodors and mentions of boobs in nikolais parts )
╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; fluff, cuddles, all those nice things, nikolai being nikolai, possible mischaracterisation
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dazai
dazai doesn't have a preference. he enjoys both being held and holding you for the same reason. when he's holding you, he's holding on tight - part of him is still scared you're gonna leave him if he gets too comfortable. and if you're holding him he always finds himself melting into you, his hands shakily gripping at your clothes as he smothers himself against your chest. he adores how your hands find his hair and comb through it. if he puts all his weight onto you, you can't go anywhere, right?
".. 'm sorry .. don't get up, just five more minutes. I'll be good ..- you're warm .. 'm sorry.. "
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chuuya
chuuya prefers to hold. be adores the feeling of you in his arms, it makes him feel like he's protecting you from the known - blanketed by his strong embrace. he traces 'I love you's on your back knowing you're too comfortable and sleepy to know what he's writing - his thumb writes his name into your hip when you think he's just rubbing circles. little possessive things like that, just to quietly manifest that you stay with him. he can press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and tease you for being so clingy ; even though he's holding you tight too.
".. you need the bathroom? .. you can hold it, jus' stay with me for a while longer .. I love you .. pretty thing you are .."
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atsushi
atsushi prefers to hold. while he won't ever deny being held, usually he finds himself pulling you on top of him to keep you in his embrace while he takes a nap. your head on his chest and his arms resting around your waist, while he gently purrs to soothe you to sleep with him. he hasn't been able to take solo naps since you've been around - and he knows you enjoy resting with him too, anyway. so what's the harm when he tugs you over to the detective agency couch and asks you to take a quick break? you've both been working hard , after all.
"let's have a quick break, okay? we can stay finish everything later .. you're gonna exhaust yourself out, sweetheart .. just 10 minutes .."
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akutagawa
akutagawa prefers to be held. he'll never admit it to anyone, especially not to you. but you can see the way he relaxes and sinks into you when you wrap your arms around him. the way he takes a long exhale and his shoulders deflate as your hand traces a certain spot on his back. he likes listening to your heartbeat, he likes knowing you're alive and with him for who he is - and not what he can do. he's still learning to love and to trust, but it's a little easier when it's by your side. he hopes you wont leave him, he'll work to impress you as he grows.
".. what? no, I'm not falling asleep. you're imagining things. you .. mm .. can you do that again ?"
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nikolai
nikolai doesn't have a preference. he's like a big dog, despite his size he'll absolutely lay himself on top of you and nuzzle into your chest. if you have boobs then he won't be moving for a while, so kiss your oxygen goodbye. whenever he wants to hold you, he's not really one to ask ; he'll just drag you over onto him or use a portal to drop you into his lap, then he's clinging to you and whining desperately whenever you try to leave. he's just big and clingy, but can you fault him? he finds you so comforting.
" .. where are you going? no! you can't leave .. do you not love me anymore ?.. why do you wanna leave !.. just stay with me .. thank you .."
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fyodor
fyodor prefers to hold. if neither was an option, it'd most likely be that. but he regularly asks you to come sit on his lap while he works. a small whistle as he turns his chair, patting his thigh - and he'll wrap an arm around you to keep you close. he's not too affectionate, and too much touching before your marriage repulses him. but he'll learn to deal with these little moments for a while - it gives him his energy back and helps him with a little push to finish his work so you rest together.
" .. зайчик .. come here. no, I'm not finished. just come. don't be disobedient , now .. there we are. good girl."
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the-raindeer-king · 7 months ago
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(A/N: prt 3 of Mama Riley! One use of pronouns but it's nothing too gendered. Ignore any spelling error. I wrote part of this half asleep.)
Silence stretches out between you and Mama Riley. She's dropped an absolute bombshell of information so casually, as if it was like talking about the weather. And she's so confident in her statement, leaving no room for argument.
You're not entirely sure how to respond. But you manage to squeak out, “Is that so?” which is such a bad response. You can't help but cringe at yourself.
It makes Mama Riley laugh though. She really does like you. You're a firecracker, in her opinion, and she thinks you'd be good for Simon. But she promises that if you don't want to date him, that's okay. You two were friends before Simon caught feelings, and she won't let anything change that. She tells you to at least consider it.
You spend the next week considering it. Looking back over your interactions with Simon, knowing how he feels, it feels almost obvious. He's tense around you because he likes you. He keeps bringing you gifts and remembering your favorite drink because he likes you.
But where do your own feelings lie? You hated him in the beginning, and gradually warmed up to the mountain of a man. But do you have feelings for him? The thought process makes your head spin, and there's a weird feeling in your chest. The question is no closer to being answered.
Not until he returns from deployment. He's got a new scar on his ear, and there's a limp in his walk. Caught a knife in the side, just barely missed anything important, he informs you and his mum. And your heart clenches at the thought.
Before you can really think about it, you're scolding him for being so casual about being injured. He's got people who care about him, he can't be so flippant about these things. He has a reason to come home, so he needs to act like it. If not for his own sake, then for you and his mom.
Despite the fact that you're chewing him out, there's this tender look on his face, affection in his eyes. He quietly huffs out a ‘yes ma'am/sir’, and the warmth in his eyes is reflected by the warmth growing on your cheeks.
There's a pause, something heavy in the air. Simon opens his mouth, ready to say something, but the moment is broken when Mama Riley comes bustling into the living room, dinner plates in hand. Her eyes dart between the two of you for a moment, a knowing smile on her face. But she doesn't comment on anything, just passes out dinner and settles down on the loveseat.
Over the next few weeks, you and Simon have a lot of tense moments, ready to finally admit your feelings to each other. But each time is ruined by some interruption. Mama Riley interrupts, your phone rings. Once, the kids down the hall came running past, shrieking about the upcoming snowfall.
Poor Simon is trying not to totally lose it. This is the closest he's gotten to admitting his feelings, to have you finally, and every time something interrupts you. He doesn't want to mess this up. It needs to be perfect because, in his head, that's what you deserve, that's how he's going to win you over. Unbeknownst to Simon, he's already won your heart. He just needs to ask you out.
Once again, it's Mama Riley to the rescue. You three have a tradition: the days leading up to Simon's next deployment, you all spend the night at Mama Riley's flat together. Now, Simon's on leave for the next few weeks, but she can't bear to watch the two of you struggle like this.
So she invites you both over, insisting that it'll be nice to have you both over for something fun instead of sad. And then she conveniently remembers that she's got a book club tonight, and she leaves, telling you two to get comfy, watch a movie. She'll be back.
Now's a better time than never, especially since Mama Riley's practically given you the chance. She's gone all of two seconds, before you whip your attention onto Simon, blurting out, “Your mom told me you're in love with me. Is that true?”
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codenamethebird · 1 month ago
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God I have so much to say about Melinoe's characterization, and the fasinating implications about her future arc/the overarching plot of hades 2. I want to make a larger think piece with pictures but for the moment I'm just going to focus on this one specific thread.
In the wake of the Prometheus reveal, she has a slew of convos about his motivations for siding with Chronos, and the gods basically all go: this is his vengeance for us punishing him a tad cruelly. And Nemesis is like, yeah the gods 100% deserve it. But Meli's responds that he must have more motivation than just vengeance, it can't just be that. But when Prometheus explicitly goes, 'I'm doing this because the gods are horrible to humanity and I love humans,' she basically goes, no he must be lying. That motivation is both too pure, but also humans kind of suck why would you care about them?
Mel's humanity hot takes deserve it's own essay (Ms I think Humans should have never gotten fire and are better when they are dead), and I just want to focus on the former for now. She can not comprehend that Prometheus is fighting the gods for noble reasons. It just does not make sense to her. Mel's world is so black and white. She doesn't understand the nuance of the situation, and the thought that the gods might be actually in the wrong doesn't even get close to crossing her mind.
It's a fascinating (and horrifying) result of her upbringing. Of the constant state of war and the very convenient big bad that is Chronos, the evil monster who stole her family. If she accepts that his side isn't completely evil, that they might even be right in some (even many) respects, she would have to grapple with her whole life. Everything she believes would be thrown into question, the literal thing she was training her whole life for.
She can't have Prometheus fighting for a noble cause, because he fights for Chronos whose the Bad Guy tm. But he also can't be fighting for something as simple as vengeance, because that would also mean she would need to really think about what he's angry about. If the punishment was truly so unnecessary cruel.
When talking to Odysseus about Prometheus, when Ody's saying how much he respected him for stealing the fire despite knowing the consequences, Mel says that it was the price to be paid for breaking Olympus's decree. To her, Olympus's rules are sacred and ultimately good. Unquestionably. Prometheus broke the rules with intent, so to her, why would he be so angry at the consequences? Especially if he knew because of his power they were going to happen.
So he must have another reason, some secret machiavellian plan that drives him. Except as I already said, it brings her right back to him doing it for humanity, which she also can't accept. Because that would be admiting that the gods did something wrong to humans. She twists herself into knots to justify her worldview, and it's fascinating! She's so messy I adore her.
Please Supergiant please the final surface boss has to be a human pleeeaaasse (preferably a living one). Or at least have one (or more) show up in some other capacity. Mel needs to come face to face with the other side and have it utterly destroy her worldview.
And/or have (Pan)Dora betray her for Prometheus, that would also be very fun haha.
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intromortal · 6 days ago
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JEALOUS HEESEUNG BORDERLINE HATE FUCKS YOU !
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pairing situationship!heeseung x f!reader
warnings smut. mdni. p in v, manhandling, name calling, hair pulling, mean hee won't kiss you
Heeseung, all things considered, is a pretty chill and laid back guy. Not prone to big displays of jealousy, especially if anywhere public. Most of the time he's quietly laying back on a couch at a party across the room, watching you with a glint in his eyes as time and time again you reject yet another guy trying to sneak his way into your pants. There’s something about the way you so obediently glance his way every time someone tries to flirt you, how your expression slightly shifts when he slouches further into the soft brown cushions, legs spread almost as if to invite you over on his lap.
It’s been months since you started fucking, and as embarrassing as it feels to admit, you two haven't really put a label on what your... status actually is. You’re definitely more than friends–though you don't know if you would even consider Heeseung your friend in the first place–but you also don't believe you're anywhere close to being a thing yet. That litter sliver of something keeps you fucking hooked on Heeseung though, as bad for you as it is.
And he enjoys every second of it. How you're so loyal to him even when he doesn't give you any reason to be.
He’s confident you'll follow him around everywhere like a little lost puppy as long as he keeps feeding you whatever crumb you need; a gentle brush of his hand whenever he greets you, a soft compliment whispered in your ear before leaving you to find something to drink, a sweet forehead kiss when at the end of the night you've both found your way between the bedsheets. I’ve got it under control, he thinks.
Yet he can't find any explanation–one that he’d make peace with, that is–for the scorching rage that overcomes him whenever he sees you and your bestie walking hand in hand around campus. The slightest twitch to his eye when he notices how bright you seem to be around Jay, how hard you laugh at his jokes and how touchy you seem to be, shoving his shoulder away when he makes a stupid comment, yet letting your hand linger on the cotton of his shirt. There’s a different light coming from within you when he's around, and Heeseung fucking hates it with his entire being.
So really, he can't help it when he completely loses the cool he so desperately tries to maintain around you the one he catches jay staring way too long at your ass for it to be a mistake. There’s nothing Heeseung would have loved more than to beat him to a pulp, for looking at his girl like that.
Except you're not his girl–he hadn't even realized he really wanted you to be until then–so he can't do that. What he can do instead is take it out on your poor unsuspecting pussy though.
"You are such a nasty slut," he whispers against your lips as he pistons into your weeping cunt, ignoring every attempt you make to kiss him, biting down on your bottom lip when you don't catch the hint. "Walking around in that tight black skirt, for what?" It feels like he's spitting venom at you, a primal edge to his tone unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Despite everything, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your pussy clamp even harder around him, trying to milk his girth for all it’s worth.
You take too long to reply for his liking, his hand digging almost hurtfully in your face to force you to look at him. "For. What?"
"I– fuck, i don't know."
He looks at you incredulously, like you must've gone dumb on his cock already, while his movements come to halt, despite your little cries and begs for him not to.
"Yes you fucking do," he spits, grabbing your thighs and flipping you over onto your knees. A little scream ripped out of you at the sudden motion as he manhandles you in whatever way he wants, paying no mind to any possible aching body part of yours or any discomfort you may feel. "Wore it to flaunt this ass around, didn't you? I know you did."
He lands a harsh smack on the skin of your bottom, kissing his teeth in annoyance when your entire body jerks forward, front collapsing on the bed. He eases his cock back into you in one thrust, setting a pace that is somehow faster than earlier. "Wanted Jay to bend you over like this, huh?"
"N-no! I– ngh." Your rebuttal is cut short by his hips slamming into yours in a harsher thrust than the previous, his thick hand pushing your head against the sheets, uncaring of all the drool that's dripping from your mouth, your eyes rolling into your skull. He plants one of his feet into the soft mattress, the new angle helping him reach so much deeper inside you as the hold on your hips becomes nearly unbearable, sure to leave a flashy bruise.
Good, he thinks. Let everyone know I own you.
"Oh, shut the fuck up." He grabs some of your hair, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, the mix of pain and pleasure so unbelievably delicious you don’t even know what to do with yourself if not just lay there and take it all. "That’s all a slut like you is good for anyway, shut her mouth and let me use her pretty pussy as I please."
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 6 days ago
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Ever Since We Met
Spoiler: Jason dies in the warehouse. ~1.5k words
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Jason Todd is six years old and snot nosed when he falls in love with his best friend. Sure, he doesn't exactly know what love is, but he makes sure he's standing next to you when the class lines up so he can hold your hand.
He gets a weird feeling in his stomach (he’s not completely convinced that it’s jealousy, despite what the teacher tries to explain) when you follow other kids around the playground instead of him.
But, he does recognize the excitement he feels when you seek him out to be coloring partners during class instead of the girl sitting next to you.
He loves you as much as a six year old can. Especially when he gets to sleep over at your house and you turn your bed into a fortress of blankets and pillows for you both to sleep in. Those nights are his favorite, and you both drift off to whispered stories and hushed giggles.
Jason Todd is ten years old and getting used to growing pains when he develops a crush on his best friend. At least, he thinks it’s a crush. It feels different than being in love, even if he hasn’t quite grasped the fact that he is in love.
He's more hyper aware of what he does now, how he treats you. Sometimes, the way you smile makes him stumble over his words, and his face go hot. He distracts himself and you from it by asking about homework or that one TV show you that you watch on Saturday mornings.
Jason decides he likes that you’ll press to his side when you’re reading, lost in your own worlds together without a need to fill the silence, crush or not.
He likes that you’ll trade half of your sandwich for his and sneak him doodles and notes during class. (He won’t admit it, but he keeps them in a box under his bed. Sometimes they’re the only reason he doesn’t run away from it all)
He doesn’t bother to mask his obvious preference for you, even when the other kids try to tease him for his crush.
You’re always quick to threaten anyone who tries to put him down, anyway, and he’s more than happy to do the same for you. And when you offer him a high five for scaring off some of the older kids, He decides it doesn’t matter if it’s a crush or not, as long as you stay his best friend.
Jason Todd is twelve when he becomes Robin. It’s hard, well, not being Robin, that’s a magic entirely its own, but being away from you.
He lives in a manor that's bigger than the entire floor of the apartment building he used to live in. He's learned how to do a backflip while throwing a punch in midair. He has more at his fingertips now than he's ever had in the entire first eleven years of his life.
But he misses you. Sometimes, it feels like a phantom limb. Something he's always reaching for, but never quite grasping. It helps that you've gotten a scholarship to his new school, but it's still not enough.
He can't explain it, but he gets greedy for your time. You don't seem to mind the sporadic hangouts, or how often he has to cancel or leave. He kind of wishes you would, just to show that you care as much as he does.
He redoubles his efforts to be a good Robin when you tell him about the dealer that moved into the apartment next to yours. He resolves to be a better friend when you tell him the fancy suits he has to wear to galas look good on him.
His feelings don't change once, even if he hasn't quite found a balance between vigilante and civilian, he knows you're the one thing he can't let go of.
Jason is fifteen years old and about to die when he realizes the person he wants to see most is you. He's always known it, in the back of his mind, but as the blaring red numbers tick lower and lower, he just wishes he could hear your voice one more time.
It's you. Always been. And he's never said it. Never let you know.
His body aches. His leg is twisted the wrong way. His breathing is shallow and raspy. His vision is blurring, and he wants to live. But his mom is still trapped in this warehouse with him, and he's Robin. Robin helps, and that's what he'll do.
Jason drags himself to his mother's side to help, moves despite the gnawing, indescribable pain with every movement.
He's still trying to help, trying to sheild her from harm, as the numbers drop to zero. Zero. Zero. Zero.
What happens next doesn't hurt more than anything else did. And he has enough time to picture the color of your eyes before it all goes to black.
Jason Todd is eighteen when he dons the name Red Hood and becomes Gotham's biggest crime lord in a matter of months.
He stays far away from you, even if your memory has haunted him since the moment he woke up in that cursed pit. (and if he tries to remember, the moment since he first woke up in his own grave)
He's eighteen still, when his empire crumbles and he's left without a path, a purpose. He carries the weight of his years with the league, sags under the strain of not knowing who he is anymore.
He stays far away from you, sticks to the cracks and shadows of Gotham until his name is no longer whispered in fear. Then, and only then, is he brave enough to take off his helmet in front of you.
It's a relief and a terror all at once to finally see the color of your eyes from something other than a memory, and when his heartbeat starts to stutter, he knows he's never really grown out of being in love with you.
You've gotten older. (He shouldn't be surprised, he has too. He just always pictured you growing old together)
Your eyes still light up like he's your favorite person in the room. (He thinks he's allowed to be surprised about that)
But it's when you breathe out that he's home, that he figures out you've been waiting for him. Neither of you seem to know what to say after that, but you don't run for the hills in terror. And for the moment, that's enough.
Jason is twenty-one and passing the first (legally) acquired bottle of alcohol you've ever bought. You laugh about how it still tastes the same, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest at the sound.
He loves you. It sings in his blood, settles on his tongue, he just doesn't know how to say it. He shows it, or at least he tries, but sometimes he's still waiting for this all to be a dream. It should have been impossible, how easily he slipped back into your life.
It was easy. So easy. Everything was easy with you. That's probably why he spills his guts.
He doesn't quite say it the right way, doesn't manage to get the word 'love' out. But he says enough to get his feelings out.
It's not poetic, not grand as you deserve, but somehow he manages to articulate the way butterflies create a hurricane in his stomach when you're around, how his gaze is always drawn to you, how he can't help but lean into the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch.
Maybe he says a little too much about how he's been head over heels since the day you've met, because you just stare at him.
He's almost ready to run, to blame it all on the one measly shot he's had. This is, until you kiss him. And oh, it's everything he never dared to dream it would be.
It's a little messy, sure, the angle a little strange as you crane across the couch to tangle your fingers in his hair. But it's perfect, it's you, and Jason falls in love all over again.
Jason Todd is twenty-three and still learning how to say I love you. It's not that he loves you any less, if anything, he loves you now more than ever. It's just still something he's getting used to.
Love is something you've given to him so freely, something he's happy to return. But it scares him, sometimes. He worries that if he says it out loud too much, the universe will realize how great of a gift he's been given, and rip it away.
It might be irrational, but he holds the word love close to his heart anyway, unwilling to test fate anymore than he already does by putting on that red helmet.
He whispers it to you in the dead of night instead, says it with touch instead of sound, shows it with soft, shine of his eye. He squeezes your hand when you say it to him, does his best to make it clear he feels the same, even if he can't get the words out.
He'll get it eventually, figure out how to get it off his tongue. He has to.
Especially if he wants to show you the pretty little band of shining, precious metal he has tucked away in a velvet box.
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microclown · 11 months ago
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I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..
Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?
Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.
As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.
That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.
Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.
I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"
But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.
It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!
And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.
And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.
idk it just makes me feel things ok
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phas3d · 4 months ago
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Famous!s/o Makes A Song About Him | Slytherin Boys
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type :: fluff
tw/cw :: sexual hints (mattheo)
contains :: draco, tom, matt, theo, lorenzo
summary :: you're a rising pop star, similar to sabrina carpenter/olivia rodrigo and you dedicate a song to them
notes :: heavy inspo from @goldsainz and their writing for f1 drivers! i've been binge reading all of their stuff pls go read it :) they're lowkey inspiring me to make my own f1 page LMAOOOO
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DRACO MALFOY "i know i have good judgement, i know i have good taste" - please please please by sabrina carpenter
He listens to the sing intensely, he's enjoying it but you can't read his face properly - thank god you were performing on stage so you couldn't look at his judgy face
But as you keep singing and poking jokes at him, he can't help but break his strong stare and chuckle. He hated admitting that you were funny, but goddamnit your fans just recorded him laughing and blushing
Once you finish performing, he smiles happily and cheers. He can't help but continue to laugh and shake his head from his own shock that YOU, the (y/n) who's famous, beautiful, and talented, is singing a song about HIM???
He'd never admit that all out loud, but you could read him so easily, you knew he was wrapped around your finger
Once your performance is over he greets you backstage with a smile that he's desperately trying to hide
"The song was a solid 8/10" he says as you scoff at him, you could tell he loved it and was too much of a wuss to admit it
And you were right, he has that song on REPEAT - he probably gave you like a million streams on his own
TOM RIDDLE "my baby, here on earth - showed me what my heart was worth" - my love mine all mine by mitski
When he first heard it, he's shocked that it's so somber and slow compared to your usual upbeat songs
He's even more shocked when he hears the lyrics and how simple yet impactful it is, it almost makes him blush
Tom has always been a sucker for poetry and music with simple instrumentals, so when you combined those both into this song he felt so loved
Once you finish performing it for the first time, he can't help but smile to himself, looking at the floor and putting his hand over his mouth to mask his happiness
When you finally come back stage, he walks up to you and hugs you tightly - despite PDA being literally vomit worthy for him
It surprises you so much, you weren't even aware you could have this impact on the cold-hearted Tom - but you did and you loved every second of it
Your song plays on repeat for him constantly, it reminds him that he's loved. He's never ever felt that in his entire life, even from his own brother
The song healed a small part of his deeply broken heart and soul, and he's so grateful for you to bring him even the slightest bit of joy, especially because he knows how difficult he is at times
MATTHEO RIDDLE "the boy is mine, i cant wait to try him, lets get intertwined" - the boy is mine by ariana grande
The second he hears the song and the lyrics, he's smirking and feeling so confident. The entire song is just basically flexing that he's yours - but he feels like he should be the one singing about you like this
Everything about the song is suited to match him perfectly, the beats, the sexual lyrics, even the choregraphy is amazing to him - it's like a perfect art piece just for him
Once you finish recording it, he's left dumbfounded and just smiling. It doesn't help that you send him a wink as well, making his already rapid heart beat even faster
After you finish the entire show, he can't get his hands off of you. He kisses you everywhere, does every command you ask of him, and drives you home at 100 mph
He wants to reward you :)
THEODORE NOTT "when i talk to you, oh cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through my heart" - from the start by laufey
This song was basically a confession to him, which you hoped he wouldn't notice, but he did instantly and he loved every second of it
He had zero clue you had feelings for him, and vice versa. You guys were both known as the oblivious slow burn couple but you both were clueless to this rumor
Once you perform it live on stage, he decides to steal a random bouquet of flowers from a fan and run backstage to greet you
He gifts you the stolen flowers and smirks, "If you love me just say so," He says with a cocky grin on his face
Before you can tell him to shut up and stop stroking his ego, he leans down to your height and gives you a peck on the lips - making both of you blush
"Once you're done performing, how about we go on a little date" He says with a cute smile, making it impossible to say no
But he lied - that date was not "little" and instead one of the fanciest restaurants ever that he paid extra to play your entire debut album over and over for all the patrons to hear
He's your biggest fan ever and posts your song about him everywhere, literally fucking everyone god he can't stop
LORENZO BERKSHIRE "tangled in love, stuck by you from the glue" - glue song by beabadoobee
Oh my gosh he's already your biggest fan boy ever, so when you sing this song as a surprise gift for him - he's freaking out and shaking against the barriers
He bites his lip and smiles as you sing this cheesy love song about him - he's never had his ego been this inflated and he loves it
Once you finish singing, he screams and shouts so loud that even your die hard fans start to judge him
But he doesn't care and he runs backstage so fast you'd think he's the Flash. He waits backstage for you like an excited puppy waiting for their owner. You could almost see his tag wag from how bright his smile is
The second you walk off the stage, he hugs you tightly and covers you in a thousand kisses - your makeup artist won't be happy but you don't care
"Ohmygosh!!! I love it! I love you! You're so sweet! Ohmygosh!!! The hottest EVER just wrote a song about me!!! A happy little love song!!! Is that the song you've been practicing for so long? Why did you never tell me-" You laugh and shut him up with a kiss on the lips and then another one on his cheek - giving him a kiss lipstick mark on his face
He understands you need to go back and perform so he leaves
Oh, also he doesn't remove your kiss :) He keeps it there the wholeeee night
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yeoobiii · 4 months ago
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hello, can I ask you to write a mini story about Heeseung, where he teaches Y/n how to kiss 🙏🏻
⋆。°✩ 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙
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꩜ bestfriend!heeseung x gn!reader
꩜ best friends to lovers (?), first kisses
꩜ during a game of truth or dare you admit to all your friends for the first time that you've never been kissed and that you're frankly scared you'll mess up once the situation presents itself. Heeseung sees a perfect opportinity to help you out with that.
or: Heeseung teaches his best friend how to kiss and both of you get a bit lost in it
wc: 5.1k (this has gotten a bit longer than I intended to but honestly I just went with the flow and here we are.)
warnings: consumption of alcohol
a/n: thank you for the request, anon! btw requests are open if you'd like me to write something specific, I can't promise you anything on how quickly I'll get it done or if it's something I'm up to writing but like the link is in my bio :)
I hope you like this, anon!
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There’s a few things none of your college friends knew about you. Despite knowing most of them for over three years now, some things just never came up naturally in conversation. Like the fact that you’ve not had your first kiss yet.
Why make a big deal out of it? You’ve also never been in love before. You didn’t feel the urge to inform everyone about these things, especially since most of your friends have a rather active dating life. You wanted to do these things at your own pace and didn’t want anyone involved in how you could “solve that problem”. You simply never intended on telling them. That is until last weekend happened and somehow your roommates were able to convince you to participate in a game of truth or dare.
It was a Thursday night and your roommate told you that they were having a few friends over for a cozy hang out and you were definitely down to chill with them because the both of you were friends with similar people and got along great in general, so having a few drinks with your friends in your dorm room seemed like a nice way to spend the evening.
And everything went smoothly enough, people were trickling in and out, the overall vibe very casual and comfortable. That is however until your friend Sofia suggested a game of truth or dare. To be fair, the overall intake of alcohol increased as the evening was progressing. It was almost inevitable that a suggestion like that would arouse sooner or later.
Before you even properly thought about it, you agreed to play and sat down in a circle with around five other tipsy college students.
Only later on did your brain register that Heeseung was one of the few chosen ones. For a split second you even wondered when he had arrived, but then you remembered that he greeted you with a friendly embrace when he first arrived about half an hour ago.
Technically, there was nothing wrong with him participating in the same game, the both of you were friends after all.
You met Heeseung pretty much the first day college started, you were both in stats together and happened to be sitting next to each other on the first day and it’s been like that ever since. However, you guys didn’t hit it off right away, you were friendly with each other, sure, but that mostly also out of convenience and occasionally you shared your notes with each other or he was making sure you didn’t fall asleep in class. It was all really casual and you would have considered him more like a colleague than a friend.
That was the case until one particular night that was destined to shape the kind of friendship the two of you would have with each other forever.
It was one of your first frat parties, the first semester was about to end and freshmen with various kinds of majors gathered to celebrate this collective milestone. Safe to say the liquor was being poured without much hesitation.
It wasn’t the first time you’ve run into Heeseung at a frat party either. Usually you’d shoot each other the occasional nod, acknowledging the other’s presence and moving on with your night and that’s all there was to it.
However, fate had other plans for this particular night.
At one point you excused yourself from the dance floor and went out the back door into the small garden to catch some fresh air, to your surprise not many people were out there, just you and a small group of three people maybe, who seemed to be passing around a blunt.
It took you a second glance to not only see your roommate but also Heeseung being part of that group, your roommate immediately greeting you enthusiastically upon locking eyes with you and beckoning for you to sit with them.
Shortly after you were sitting on your ass, your roommate's arm interlocked with yours, being pulled into the conversation easily.
Heeseung sent a brief smile of acknowledgement your way, before taking a hit from the joint. You returned his smile and also greeted the fourth person sitting with you who was eventually introduced as Heeseung’s friend Jake.
The joint was being passed around and eventually landed in your hand as well and afterwards the conversation seemed to flow effortlessly. You joked and laughed along to whatever your company was saying but were also emerged in the more heated discussions.
At one point you were so deep into the conversation with Jake that you didn’t even realize your roommate getting up and going back inside and like ten minutes later, Jakes excused himself to the bathroom and didn’t seem to return anymore.
Which only left Heeseung and you.
Now, you’d be lying if you’d say being in such close proximity with a cute guy like Heeseung, all by yourselves in this somewhat intimate setting left you completely unaffected. You could feel yourself growing slightly flustered at nothing in particular, but you eventually catched yourself when Heeseung asked.
“So, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”
You fell into comfortable conversation after that and the longer the night went on, the more intense the topics got.
Whenever you think back to that one particular part of the evening it kinda feels like Heeseung and you were the only two things existing at the moment. Your brain didn’t register the people stepping in and out of the garden as the hours passed by. 
It was well past 3am when you checked your phone for the time since sitting down. You told Heeseung and he was just as shocked as you were at how quickly the time had passed, almost apologizing for taking up so much of your time, but you assured him you were enjoying yourself.
“It has been a while since I sat down like that and was able to talk to someone for hours about whatever popped into my head.” You admitted to him and he seemed satisfied with that judging by the smile that graced his lips.
“Me too.”
And you could swear by the way his eyes shimmered in that moment that there was something – whatever that may have been – between the both of you. Or maybe it was just the weed.
Regardless of what you guys shared was something different than what you thought it might have been, you grew close very quickly after that evening. Heeseung started to joke around with you in class, you eventually asked him for his number and social media, he started sending you memes occasionally, you started to hang out outside of class in your little friend group.
At one point you were convinced he was actively seeking you out at parties, because ever since that evening, you always bumped into each other sooner or later during the night.
And whatever there might have been that one evening, nothing came of it. However, it almost seemed like you grew closer to Heeseung than all your other friends. People in your friend group would casually call you best friends and the more time passed the more that statement became true.
All occurrences in the past have led you to playing truth or dare on a Thursday night on the floor of your dorm room with each other. And usually that wouldn’t be an issue. Heeseung and you have progressed to a stage in your friendship where you knew almost everything about each other; almost.
You could feel the alcohol running in your system and were sincerely hoping you wouldn’t say something that you’d eventually regret. You just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best.
For the most part the game did run smoothly, it was fun and you had a good time, the only dare you had to do was show them your most embarrassing dance move.
That is until your roommate asked you truth or dare.
“Truth” you chose this time
“What was your first kiss like and who was it with?”
The question in and of itself was harmless, it matched the vibe of the very easy going game they had going on, Nonetheless, you felt put on the spot and before you could stop yourself – because you can’t pull off a lie for the life of you – you blurt out that you’ve never been kissed.
None of your friends seemed super unfazed by this seeing how you’ve not dated one person since you started college but Sofia’s eyes grew double in size.
“Not even a peck on the lips or something?” she questioned a bit bewildered.
You just shook your head, seeing from the corner of your eye how your roommate gave Sofia a light nudge at even asking such a question.
You couldn’t help but risk a short glance at Heeseung and were almost a bit startled when his eyes met yours instantly. He sent you a soft smile upon locking eyes with you. Was that pity you saw in his eyes? Your stomach turned itself upside down.
You really wish you could say it didn’t bother you at all, that at the age of 21 you’ve never kissed someone before. You didn’t want it to be a big deal, it really shouldn’t be a big deal.
But you couldn’t help but think that you lacked something or were one step behind everyone. It felt like missing out on an experience that usually people have in their late teens and early twenties.
You don’t know why it hasn’t happened for you yet. It’s not even that you want it to be with someone really special, the moment has simply never presented itself before and you usually take this for what it is, but right now – Heeseung’s expression burned into your skull – you suddenly feel a bit small.
“It’s not just that” you eventually start to break the silence, not yet realizing that you were about to make this so much worse, “it’s also the fact that even if I’d want to kiss someone, I wouldn’t know how.”
It took your drunken mind a hot minute to catch up with what you just said. Something within you simply wanted to fill the silence but the fact that your filter was basically non-existent due to your tipsy state was not taken into consideration the moment you opened your mouth.
You mentally slapped yourself across the face, this time not having the courage to even glance into Heeseung’s direction.
“It’s not that hard, I can show you!” Your roommate offered enthusiastically, intentions pure.
Your face flushed at the suggestion and you cringed a bit, more out of embarrassment that you ended up in this situation in the first place than by the proposal itself.
“I’ll let you know if I ever want to take you up on that suggestion.” You reply as nonchalantly as you can muster.
It’s not like the thought of asking a friend how to properly kiss has occurred to you before, but you could never quite bring yourself to get the request past your lips.
Your friends laugh at your response and easily move on with the conversation, taking the attention off of you. And that was that. Or at least that’s what you thought…
Two weeks later you enter the lecture hall and already spot Heeseung sitting in his usual spot and just like on autopilot you placed yourself next to him and the both of you exchanged greetings, just like you usually would. You’d also catch up about your weekends and shortly after the lecture started, taking up both of your attention.
It wasn’t until halfway through the lecture that Heeseung poked your shoulder, extending his notebook to you, clearly wanting to show you something.
With blue ink he has written on the page:
“You want me to teach you?”
Your eyebrows furrow, confused at what he meant.
You write down below him:
“Teach me what?” Confusion clear on your face as you watch him write something else.
“How to kiss”
You choked on your own spit.
Heeseung chuckled next to you. You could smack him across the head right now and you made a mental note to do just that once class is over.
Once you collected yourself, you took the pen from Heeseung and wrote three question marks under his proposal.
Why would he offer to teach you in the first place and out of all the places to suggest this to you he chose the middle of your lecture? Why?
He grinned at your question marks and if you didn’t know him any better you thought he was making fun of you. Had any other person done this to you, you’d probably actually have been hurt but first of all you still didn’t know if he was serious and second of all it was Heeseung. You knew him well enough to know he’d never use such a situation to make fun of you.
At that moment the professor seemed to notice your lack of attention and decided to ask you a question directly, returning your attention to the lecture where it stayed until you were dismissed.
The topic didn’t arise again between Heeseung and you even though the whole scenario didn’t seem to be able to leave your mind. At lunch you stared at Heesung making conversation with Jake over something you did not pay attention to, trying to figure him out.
In your head the puzzle pieces were just not fitting. Why would he suggest that all of a sudden? And why was it so hard for you to find an answer to his question…
After the whole frat party thing where you originally became friends, you had developed a small crush on Heeseung that gradually developed as time went by. It’s just after some time had passed and neither of you made any advances towards the other you eventually abandoned the idea of getting with Heeseung and were left with two options, getting over your crush or having to live with your unrequited feelings.
You chose the first option. It took you quite some time but you managed to accept the fact that Heeseung was simply a really good friend and your feelings faded as seasons changed.
You’d be lying saying they ever went away completely. There’s no reason denying that Heeseung was painfully your type and that no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like him like that anymore, you were attracted to him.
So, saying his suggestion to teach you how to kiss took you by surprise was the understatement of the century.
He probably just tried to be a good friend, right? Your roommate had suggested to teach you as well back then and there were no other intentions behind that, you were certain of that. So, why are you questioning Heeseung so much?
The topic didn’t come up again until one day you were hanging out in your dorm room. Just your roommate, Heeseung and yourself. It was often like that, sometimes Jake was also around but today it was just the three of you, that is at least until your roommate told you that they were heading out for dinner at around six and didn’t know when they’d be back.
Once they left, it was just Heeseung and you left.
Ever since he made his suggestion in class, you dreaded being alone with him, because you didn’t know if the topic would come up again or if you even wanted it to.
Heeseung was lying on your bed, his feet resting on your lap, while you were sitting at the end of the bed, back resting against the wall. Heeseung was scrolling through his phone when you decided to address the elephant in the room, because you figured if he wasn’t the one to bring it up, why shouldn’t you?
“Were you serious?” you simply said, not in any particular tone, just wanting to clear the haze in your head.
“Do you mean about the kissing thing?” He said without looking away from his face. The fact that he instantly knew what you were talking about indicated enough that he was aware it’s been eating at you.
You nod.
He locked his phone and threw it to the side, moving to sit up and also lean his back against the wall so that he can face you.
“I was and I still am.” He said, no trace of irony to be found.
“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask.
He shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed like it bothered you that day. You know, when you told everyone how you’re scared you’d mess up if it comes down to the real thing?”
He teased at you being so open due to liquid courage, a small smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at him.
“I was put on the spot and that was the only thing my brain provided at the moment to fill the silence.” You whine more frustrated with yourself than anyone else.
“So, you’re not worried about that?” He asked in return.
It was silent for a moment as you contemplated his question. You could easily dig yourself a way out of this by denying it, convincing him it was mainly the liquor talking. But you and Heeseung were never really the type to lie to each other.
“I am” you eventually admit, not meeting his eyes “I don’t know… It’s a bit silly but like I don’t know anyone my age who hasn’t been kissed before and I feel like it’s gonna be really awkward if the situation arises and I chicken out because I have no idea how to actually kiss someone.”
Heeseung listened to you and took your words in before answering.
“But you know, most first kisses are kinda awkward, I think.”
“Was your first kiss weird at all?” You asked him.
“Yeah, very.” He chuckled, sitting up more on the bed, “it was kinda too much of everything, too much teeth, too much spit, just entirely too much.”
He shuddered a bit, recollecting his first kiss.
“See? And I’d have no idea about any of that.” You said almost a bit frustrated.
“Then let me show you.” He insisted, your eyes meeting.
The way he says it so casually makes you want to rip your hair out.
“It’s just a kiss, right? And it’s me! You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.” He said, eyebrows slightly raised, trying to ease your mind.
You look at him. He looks cozy in his oversized sweatshirt, his body language his usual relaxed self. It was still a bit fascinating how he could take this all so lightly but then again, it really was just a kiss for him.
And you know you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t kiss Heeseung. In fact, your head is screaming at you not to kiss him, because the risk of buried feelings resurfacing is simply too big. But you’d also be lying to yourself if you’d say you weren’t curious what his lips would feel like against yours and it were thoughts like this that’d mean certain doom for you sooner or later.
At your silence Heeseung added “Look, there’s really no pressure at all. I just thought maybe you’d like to know a few things that will help ease your mind, but of course you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
And of course he would say that. Of course he’d go out of his way to reassure you that you’re safe with him and that he respected your choice no matter what. Maybe sharing your first kiss with Heeseung wasn’t that bad of an idea after all. At least like that you could make sure it’s someone who respects you and your boundaries, someone who makes sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what.
Maybe you could allow yourself this. Maybe having this as the memory of your first kiss wasn’t too bad.
“Like, right now?” You asked, which seemed to surprise Heeseung a little. He must have been convinced you’d turn him down.
“I mean, whenever is fine.” He responded suddenly you could see his cool demeanor crack, spotting a few hints of nervousness behind the cracks.
“I think, I’d be down.” You eventually say after contemplating for another minute.
“Really?” Heeseung’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline.
“Lee Heeseung, if you tell me right now that all of this has been a sick joke of yours after all, I’m ending this friendship right now.”
Panic flashed in his eyes.
“No! No, of course not. I was being serious. I just didn’t think…. I didn’t think you’d agree.” he admitted.
“So, how does this work?” you ask, not knowing where to even start.
“Oh, so you really want to do it right now, I see.” Heeseung mumbled more to himself than anyone in particular.
He scooted slightly closer to you.
“Well, first we gotta get closer.” He moves to sit next to you on the bed, shoulders touching.
You watch him, fascinated at how quickly his shyness has been replaced by his cool, nonchalant demeanours once again.
Heeseung and you have cuddled on more than one occasion before, but this feels different, you’re hyper aware of the place where his shoulder is bumping into yours and your tights are touching. This close, you could smell his cologne and shampoo.
“It’s not that complicated really” he starts explaining.
“If you want to just have a small, simple kiss. We’d both tilt our heads slightly as we get closer. Let me show you.”
He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. And you could swear there it was again. That shimmer from the first night the both of you actually talked to each other. You push that thought to the back of your head, the indications behind that too overwhelming for what’s about to happen right now.
His hand hovers above your cheek and you nod, allowing him to gently grab you by the jaw and tilt your head into one direction. The distance between his and your face shrinks as he does so, the pace of your heartbeat picking up in the process.
You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke again.
“This is usually the point most people close their eyes and then you just… kiss.”
You close your eyes and a moment later you felt the sensation of Heeseung’s lips softly pressing against yours. All thoughts seem to leave your head the instant your lips touched, your heart basically beating out of your chest. It took you a moment to actually process the sensation and just as you were about to lose yourself in the feeling, Heeseung pulled back slightly.
“You know, this is the part where you kiss me back.” He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and maybe it was all in your head but you could swear his voice sounded different then just a second ago; a bit deeper, maybe even a bit flustered.
“My bad” you said, making Heeseung throw his head back with laughter, making you giggle as well.
It eases your anxiety a bit that even in stations like this, you were able to just laugh with him and easing the tension so easily.
“No worries” he laughed “Wanna try again?”
Again?
What did he mean again? Wasn’t that it?
Despite yourself, you nod.
“Okay, this time make sure to reciprocate the pressure I put against your lips, got it?”
“Got it” you kept your replies fairly short, afraid your voice would fail you otherwise.
Before you knew it, Heeseung was leaning in again.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
You close your eyes and soon after you feel the now familiar pressure of his lips again, this time making sure to kiss him back. Without thinking about it, your hand found its way onto Heeseung’s neck, where your fingers absentmindedly played with hair as you were kissing him.
This kiss lasted longer than the first one, you could feel Heeseung moving against you and followed his lead. It was easier to flow into the rhythm than you’d have thought, his lips soft and gentle against yours.
You were starting to feel lightheaded as he pulled away again and you had to resist the urge to chase after his lips.
“That was pretty good” he said, slightly out of breath, his pupils slightly dilated, his gaze fixed on your lips before he looked up at you.
“Also the thing you did with your hand, it seems like you’re a natural.” He chucked.
That’s when you saw your hand still resting against his neck, you instantly pulled it away once your brain caught up to what he was saying.
“Oh, I didn’t even realize…”
For a second there was a silence between the both of you; a silence that wasn’t quiet at all. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and neither could he. You could probably cut the tension with a knife.
“And what if… what if I’d want it to get more intense, you know?”
Heeseung’s eyebrows shot up.
“More intense?” He said, knowing very well what you were implying.
“I get how just kissing someone on the lips like that might not be that hard but what if– what if it goes further?”
Heeseung cleared his throat at your words and sat up straighter.
“You mean, if you would want to deepen the kiss?” He inquired.
You just nod, looking up at him, not failing to notice the light blush that’s starting to form on his cheeks, matching your own flusteredness.
“You want me to show you as well?”
You nod. Something about how his lips feel against yours was addictive, making you throw all your previous reservations out of the window.
“It’s kinda hard to explain though. I’d just have to show you?” He said, a bit unsure.
“That’s okay.”
“Okay so, basically you start with a kiss just like we shared before. You’ll just have to let me lead, okay?”
Something about the way he said that sent a shiver down your spine, words refusing to leave your mouth so you just nod.
Soon enough, his lips were on yours again and even though you were only separated for a few minutes, you already started to miss the sensation and the tingle it made you feel in your stomach and chest. Naturally, your hand found its way back into his hair.
Suddenly, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip and your heart took a leap. Instinctively, you opened your mouth for him. A few moments pass and he starts licking gently into your mouth.
You actively have to suppress sounds that were starting to build in the back of your throat at the sensation.
You could also feel one of his hands pressing against your waist while the other one was busy cupping your cheek.
Without much thinking you pressed forward, wanting to match his eagerness, which led to your teeth clinking against each other to which Heeseung pulled back slightly, chuckling.
“Take it slow, yeah?” He said, his face still incredibly close to yours.
As you nod at his remark he dives back in, taking you by surprise a bit. You were welcoming the touch of lips nonetheless.
This time you tried to dial down your eagerness and gently let his tongue guide yours, your insides turning into mush in the process.
Without thinking you slightly pulled at his hair, making him hum against your lips. 
He must like that? you think to yourself. 
Your stomach did a 360 at the thought of stirring him on further.
At this point your tongues were dancing with each other gently, no trance of any kind of hesitation left, the feeling leaving your head dizzy and your heart fluttering.
The way Heeseung kept pulling you in by your jaw and how his grip on your hip was getting tighter.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time.” He suddenly blurts out in between kisses and if you wouldn’t be so lost in the feeling of his lips on yours you’d stop to question his statement, but right now your heart simply leaped in your chest.
Overcome by a sudden wave of braveness, you swung one of your legs across his lap, straddling him. Heeseung looked at you starstruck, his hands instantly finding their way to your hips caressing them.
You took the time to look at him for a moment, his pupils were practically blown out and he looked so pretty with kiss swollen lips, glistering with both of your spit.
This was the first time you initiated the kiss, he easily reciprocated.
The kisses were sometimes still a bit sloppy but neither you nor Heeseung seemed to care, too lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies pressed against each other.
His hands were traveling up your sides and down your tights again and you were drowning in this feeling, of his hands touching you; exploring you. Soon enough, him trying to teach you how to kiss turned into a full on make out session.
That was until your roommate burst into the room without any announcement, making you jump off of Heeseung in an instant, cursing your body for immediately missing his closeness.
You both looked guilty and flustered as your roommate looked the both of you up and down.
“My bad, I’m just here to grab my charger. Continue with what you’ve been doing. It was only a matter of time until this happened anyway.”
They said and were gone as quickly as they had arrived.
You and Heeseung looked at each other for a second. Both of you burst into laughter shortly after.
“I think at some point we should really have a conversation about what exactly this is between us.” He gestured between the both of you after recovering from the sudden interruption.
And you were glad he brought it up because you think your heart would have been shattered into a hundred pieces if this didn’t have the same effect on him as it had on you; making your stomach flutter, turning your insides into mush, craving more.
“Better sooner than later, right?” you smile at him, hope filling your heart.
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feel free to let me know your thoughts <3
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authorhjk1 · 3 months ago
Note
https://www.instagram.com/p/Ck9O9OgyB30/?igsh=MTY4dWRjNWpwM2l4dw==
https://www.instagram.com/p/CnWy9qIJo_-/?igsh=bGp1d3htc3dzaDdw
https://www.instagram.com/p/Cngxuq_p7j1/?igsh=MWl1cnAxZzAyYWkwOA==
https://www.instagram.com/p/C1_8a0Wpo_D/?igsh=ajg4ZjZ1eHJ5MTk1
Some of eunha black dress, feel free to pick any, she looks amazing
Black
(Eunha X Male Reader)
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You kiss Eunha's neck, while listening to Umji. The latter is currently working on making dinner, while Eunha is struggling not to whine and complain.
She deserves this punishment. You didn't expect her to be such a naughty girl, but Umji caught her in the act and told you all about it, with a satisfied smirk on her lips.
"Are you already done cutting that?"
You motion towards the vegetables, which Umji put to the side as she is now turning on the stove.
"I am."
Umji turns around, her eyes focused on Eunha's face.
"I like it thick."
Her whispered words make the poor girl let out a small mewl. Your left hand keeps holding onto her chest, giving her tits occasional squeezes through the black fabric. Your right is lying on her center, giving her exposed clit some lazy rubs.
But the most agonizing part for Eunha is your dick. She can feel it between her thighs. Your slow, shallow thrusts have her dripping wet. But you aren't fucking her pussy. No. This is her punishment. And her thighs definitely rival her pussy in tightness and smoothness. Especially when her slick is slightly lubricating her skin.
Another playful bite of yours makes Eunha gasp. Umji chuckles with an evil glint in her eyes. You feel how her full thighs squeeze your cock. Your thrusting makes your own toes curl. But you would never admit to Eunha how great her thighs feel. If you would, she would start wearing skirts and shorts that would expose them completely. Even in public.
For a moment, you like the idea. Always having a full view of her legs would definitely improve your day to day life. But then again, you'd have the urge to squeeze and dig your fingers into them 24/7. Or you would fuck them, whenever you want. Which brings us back to the here and now.
You kiss Eunha's neck, while watching Umji. The latter has just dumped the noodles into the pot with the boiling water in it.
"O-Oppa, please..."
Her desperate whine makes you smile.
"Umji told me how much you love watching us. I can't believe you actually hid a camera in her room, just so you can touch yourself, while I make her my toy."
"Oppa... I-I will be a good toy too. Pretty please?"
Despite Umji's back facing you, you can guess where her free hand has gone, while the other is holding onto the pot. You give one of Eunha's mounds a rougher squeeze, which makes her gasp.
"I still can't believe you spied on us."
You raise your hips a little. Your next thrust penetrates the gap between her thighs dangerously close to her pussy. Her hitched breath shows you that she is very aware of what you just did.
"J-Just because I love you so much, oppa."
"Do you really?"
With her back turned towards you, you can't see her face, but Eunha nods.
"Yes. I just wish you'd use me more."
Her desperate, almost hurt tone, gives you a slight feeling of sympathy. She is right. You've been hanging out with the others quite often recently.
"Alright then. The two of us will spend some alone time after dinner."
A happy squeal makes Umji turn around.
"But oppa! I want you too."
You let out a sigh. Sometimes, this is harder than it looks. So you should focus on the task at hand for now.
"We will arrange something later."
With that, you take a hold of Eunha's waist with both hands. You see her placing her own on the surface of the counter she is staying behind. Your thrusts between her thighs become faster. Harder. You've had enough for now anyway. The slow stuff isn't for you at all.
Soon, you're actually fucking her thighs. You make her body rock back and forth. Her pussy keeps her thighs lubricated, her juices steadily flowing down in small streams. The clapping of your hips against her ass fills the room, drowning out the boiling water.
Umji hass given up on cooking dinner. She is watching you using Eunha's thighs for your own pleasure, while shamelessly playing with herself underneath her skirt.
"Damn, Eunha. I'd love to fuck these all day."
You growl into her ear, your fingers now digging into them at the front. Eunha whines. This is way too much torture for her. How could she take this? Your cock almost grazing her lips, but not plunging into her needy cunt?
"C-Can you....just the tip?"
Her desperate tone and that pathetic question makes you laugh at her. You give her cheek a kiss.
"Later. This is still punishment."
But you know that this punishment won't be going on for much longer. Eunha's thighs are just in a league of their own.
"I'm gonna cum, Eunha."
You whisper into her ear, making her shudder.
"Yes please, oppa. Use me as a canvas. Please. My thighs..."
Her eyes are closing as Eunha feels your thrusts becoming harsher and faster. She feels your cock throbbing between her legs.
And then, you stop right between them. Right underneath her center.
"Fuck."
Another growl into her ear makes her gasp as your cum paints her thighs. Her smooth skin is now all sticky as you keep thrusting between the gap of her thighs. You go slow again, riding out your orgasm. Your bodyweight presses her small body against the counter.
"Thank you for punishing me, oppa."
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evansbby · 1 year ago
Text
𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???
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“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”
He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.
“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”
Other assistant. You knew what that meant.
You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.
“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.
You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…
“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”
“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.
He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.
“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”
***
“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”
Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.
You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.
“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.
“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.
“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.
“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”
He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.
“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.
“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.
She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”
You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.
“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.
“Aww, but Pete–”
“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”
“Sally?”
“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”
You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.
“That was a close one, huh?”
“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”
He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.
“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”
***
Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.
But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.
“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”
You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.
You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.
You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.
You really feel like a decoration now.
“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.
Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”
You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.
“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.
Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”
“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.
Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”
His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.
“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.
“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”
Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).
He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).
He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.
***
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.
He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”
You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”
He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”
“Make a name for myself.”
He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.
You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.
“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.
“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”
He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”
“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”
He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”
The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.
“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.
“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.
He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.
***
“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”
You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”
“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”
He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.
“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”
He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.
“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”
You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”
He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.
“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“So the fuck are you.”
He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.
“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.
You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.
“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”
He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.
“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”
***
“I do.”
Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.
And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.
It was a good thing you liked kids.
“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.
You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.
“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”
Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”
You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?
You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.
“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.
“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”
“Yes, daddy.”
***
“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.
“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”
You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”
He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”
Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.
It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.
“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.
“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.
“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.
“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”
“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”
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SFJHKASGD THE END!
If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!
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animeyanderelover · 5 months ago
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Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional thoughts, clinginess, stalking, manipulation, male reader
Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama
Zoldyck family with Gojo-like older twin of Illumi
Zeno Zoldyck
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🐲​You'd think that as one of the oldest members of the Zoldyck family, Zeno would act his role as the strict grandfather and drill into you every lesson you need to know as the future head of the family. Instead he has taken the complete opposite role and has settled into being the chill granddad for it is his son's role to lecture you in everything you need to know, not his. Most of the time he spends with you is more comparable to him just hanging out with you, unless he notices that you are slacking off in which case he will show you why despite his age he is still a feared assassin in the world. There are constant jokes thrown back and forth between you two as both of you try to see who can deliver verbally the bigger blow whilst both of you take it without a single grain of salt. Even during missions both of you have together, you tend to see who has the better one-liners all whilst being completely indifferent to the screaming and terrified targets. Silva has voiced his disdain as he thinks that Zeno is being too soft yet Zeno has always stood up. He's a proud grandfather so just let him do what he wants to do with his favorite grandchild. After all your very first word ever was "grandpa", how could he not love you?
Silva Zoldyck
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🐺​For all the respect he holds for his own father, the old man is giving him a headache with the way he treats you, his heir. Silva claims most of your time, either training you or teaching you everything you need to know as the next head of the clan. You are his entire pride and he has high expectations for you which he is confident you will live up to. There is especially much time poured into helping you honing your special Nen-abilities of the Infinity and your Six Eyes, skills which he is proud that you have gotten as it only further solidifies you as one of the strongest members of the family. He's aware of the fact that you favor your grandfather though and he knows that Zeno often sneaks away with you because he wants to spend time with you and the GIF I've used is probably the exact same expression he gives the two of you when he catches you. Is he perhaps a tad bit jealous that you favor your grandfather over your own dad? Perhaps, he is rather possessive after all but he would never admit that though his suffocating aura is already indicator enough of his feelings. He's most likely never gotten fully over it that your first word wasn't "dada" and Zeno has never let him forget it either.
Kikyo Zoldyck
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🔺​Kikyo has a terrible streak of jealousy and that isn't made better by the fact that Silva and Zeno steal so much of your time for themselves. As a result she is all the more smothering and clingy the moment you are by yourself as she seems to wait for you to be alone like a starved predator and pounces on you the moment neither of the two men are around. This woman is always complimenting you for everything. For your talents, your strength, your caring personality, your looks and whatever else you can think of. There is a tinge of bittersweet melancholy though as she sometimes mourns the time where you were chubby and small and came always stumbling towards her with a happy look on your face. Her little bird has left the nest far too quickly and has grown so independent.... Your kind and caring personality can be easily a trigger of her jealousy though whenever you pay attention to one of your siblings or can't spend time with her since you have promised someone else already that you'd be with them. She always makes a huge clamour whenever the topic of potential partners is involved as no one in her eyes could be worthy of her beautiful baby boy.
Illumi Zoldyck
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🤎​For as long as Illumi can remember, you two have always been together. You complete him, he completes you. After all both of you have been sharing the same womb, have shared everything since the very moment the two of you were conceived. It is this mindset that has always pushed Illumi to be surprisingly clingy, your silent shadow that has been trailing behind you ever since the two of you could crawl. From all of his siblings he has always thought that he deserves you the most, perhaps even more than the entirety of the Zoldyck family as the both of you share a special connection as twins. He's casually thrown needles into people's heads when they so much as dared to question whether the two of you are really twins as your appearances are like night and day, silently enraged whenever someone would do as much as doubt just how close the two of you are. He's the one seeking you out even quicker than Kikyo when neither Silva nor Zeno are in sight and likes to whisk you somewhere where he can have the time with you he thinks he deserves more than anyone else. He's tried to scare some of his other siblings away whenever he thought that they were stealing you away from him.
Milluki Zoldyck
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💻​Going back to Illumi bullying his siblings whenever they also try to get your time, poor Milluki is the one who gets the most of it, though Milluki has used this fact often to play the victim card to try to coax you into spending more time with him. Activities with Milluki contain munching on snacks whilst playing some video games or watching some Anime and with passing years this guy has installed an entire security system to make sure that no one disturbs him when he has you, his older brother with him in the room. The ony time where he has gotten too scared and let someone in his room is when either Zeno or Silva knock on his door as he knows fully well that they'll break it if he doesn't open it within 3 seconds. Whenever he has managed to make you promise to spend an evening with you, he buys tons of your favorite snacks and prepares your favorite movies, games and series so that everything is to your liking and so that he can hopefully become your favorite sibling. He's even made a phone specifically for you and gifted it to you on your birthday. There are a lot of special apps and features included on the phone, one of them being a very secretive tracker which allows him to always know your location.
Killua Zoldyck
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🪀​Killua has been clinging to you since he was a toddler and that hasn't changed much over the years. Seemingly adapting to the strategies of Zeno, Killua is always sneaky when he seeks you out and beckons you to follow him and spend time with him. He's probably one of the few who is willing to share his time with you together with some of his other siblings which is pretty much only Alluka. You've always indulged him though, knowing that there was a certain pressure on him due to his white hair and blue eyes as well. Killua has taken some pride in his appearance though, mainly because people not associated with his family always instantly acknowledged him as your younger brother whilst such recognition wasn't as granted with people like Illumi or Milluki which causes him to act somewhat smug in such given situations. Both of you have a sweet tooth and whenever one of you is on a mission, it has become a sacred ritual that the person buys something sweet before heading home again to share it with the other. The poor boy was heartbroken when you couldn't come with him when he took his Hunter Exam, though you strongly spoke up for him when people like Kikyo were hesitant to let him go.
Alluka Zoldyck
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💝​Whereas almost the entire rest of the family has always shunned Alluka, Killua and you were the only ones willingly spending time with her and playing with her. As a result Alluka as well as Nanika genuinely view the two of you as the only people both of them need and really love and Nanika especially grants the both of you free wishes. Okay, maybe not always free. At times there are demands for you such as wanting a piggyback from you, wanting a kiss on the cheek or wanting to be lifted up and spun around by you. Whenever you hear such words coming out of Alluka's mouth you instantly know that both of them want your affection and attention in that moment and you have never been able to deny them their requests, even if you have never used the wishes you were granted in return for something sinister. The room Alluka is kept in is filled with plushies and prettily designed because you demanded it to be that way and whenever Alluka or Nanika want the walls to be painted a different colour or desire a new plushie, you always take it upon yourself to fulfill them their wish and Killua gives you a helping hand for the majority of the time.
Kalluto Zoldyck
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🏮​Kallluto has arguably got the worst luck as he is the youngest member of the family and often is brushed over by all of his other siblings who deem that he should wait for his turn. The poor boy is a professional stalker even from a young age as he has spend countless hours watching other members of the family having fun with you all whilst he is deprived of it. He plays the even bigger victim card than Milluki for such reasons in the very moment you call out to him and spend time with him. Whenever you two walk around, he either clings to the sleeves of your clothes or even manages to hold your hand, his head constantly tilted so that he can look at you with sparkling eyes. The insecurities he sometimes feels as a result of being somewhat overlooked as the entire household revolves around you is something he learns to use effectively as an advantage when he wants to steal your attention away from someone else because he knows you'll crouch down and ask him if everything is alright the moment he starts fidgeting around with his fingers and makes himself small. As you are the person he idolises and looks up to, he ends up adapting your likes and dislikes all to feel closer to you.
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lemoncrushh · 6 months ago
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break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored
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short lil summary: after that one night with harry, you can't stop thinking about him...but things don't exactly turn out like you'd hoped.
warnings: smut (multiple positions, multiple orgasms), angst, oral (f receiving), dirty talk - 18+ ONLY!!
word count: 8k+
a/n: this is part 2 of bad idea. read that first.
(obviously both are somewhat inspired by ariana grande songs)
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You heard your phone ringing as you stepped out of the shower. Knowing better than to hurry and risk falling on the bathroom floor, you listened for another ring, but none came. Quickly drying off with a towel, you wondered if it was Harry.
The two of you had been texting for the last few days. While he’d continued with his audacious flirting, he hadn’t made another move to see you again until last night.
Wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? he’d texted.
Not wanting to sound too eager, you’d said you had tentative plans with a friend - which wasn’t a full lie since Deliah had texted you and asked to get together - so you should play it by ear.
Stepping into your bedroom, you grabbed your phone from your bed. Your lips twitched into a grin when you saw his name.
Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. Thoughts of him had been invading your mind since you’d left his apartment that morning. That morning after the most incredible sex you’d ever had. He’d ordered you an Uber, and offered you breakfast which you’d declined. While he’d been sweet, promising to text you, you’d made sure to keep things casual - especially after seeing that text from Melanie on his phone.
Maybe she was his girlfriend. He’d guessed correctly that you didn’t have a boyfriend, but he never divulged his own relationship status. And if he was anything like his brother, he may have a handful of women he was fucking. Not that you blamed him. He was a sexy guy, and despite falling under his spell for one drunken, sex-charged night, you were still his brother’s ex and knew it was best not to get too attached.
One thing you admitted to yourself at least, was that you enjoyed his flirty little texts and the way they made you giggle like a schoolgirl. But you would never say this to your friends. You hadn’t heard from Marcie at all since that night, and Deliah, ever the kind and gentle soul, merely asked if you got home okay and if you had a hangover, saying you two should make dinner plans. Obviously both of your friends knew you’d slept with your ex’s brother. But for now, it had yet to be a topic of conversation.
“Hey, it’s Harry,” he said in the voicemail he’d just left. “Was wondering if you were free. I was just about to head to the coffee shop. Let me know.”
Since you hadn’t heard decisive plans from Deliah about that dinner yet, you tapped the phone to call Harry back.
“Hi, which coffee shop?”
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You could see him through the cafe window before you even made it to the door. He sat in a corner booth at the front, another cap backwards on his head. He smiled and waved when he saw you coming, and it immediately sent a warm feeling through your veins.
“Hi,” you said when you approached him, and he rose from the booth, surprising you with a kiss on the cheek.
“You look lovely,” he commented, his palm running down your back and lingering just above your waist. “I haven’t ordered yet. Thought I’d wait for you.”
“Oh, that’s sweet, but you didn’t have to.”
Harry shrugged. “I wanted to.”
With a grin, you walked with Harry to the counter to place your coffee order. When he told the barista it was together and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, you didn’t argue. Joining him at the table again, you asked Harry how his day had been.
“Pretty good,” he replied. “Had another interview this morning.”
“How did that go?”
“Went well, I think. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
“I know,” you nodded. “Good luck, though.”
“Thanks.”
You both continued to make small talk for a bit until the barista called out his name. You watched Harry slide out of the booth to pick your coffees up at the counter. Selfishly, you stared at his back, his broad shoulders, hoping he was planning to stay in the states instead of returning to London. Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for having such thoughts. He was not yours to claim. Some good dick and a cup of coffee did not mean anything more.
Returning to the table, he set your cup in front of you. Then Harry’s smile spread across his face before he reached for his phone. “Found something today as well,” he said sheepishly.
“Oh?”
Tapping on his cell, Harry chuckled before turning it towards you. Your face fell when you recognized the image. It was your senior photo from high school.
“Is that you?” he asked.
With a sigh, you nodded, wanting to make yourself small and melt into the vinyl of the seat. “Yeah.”
“I told you I thought you looked familiar,” he smirked. “You went to my high school.”
“Where did you find that?” you asked him with a grimace.
“Your instagram.”
“Shit,” you muttered, throwing your hand over your face. You’d forgotten you had an account. You’d abandoned it after you and David had broken up.
Fuck! David!
“I hope you don’t mind that I looked you up,” Harry continued.
Pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you shook your head, wanting to vomit. “I guess you know who I am, then.”
“From school, yeah. Oh, you mean that you dated my brother?”
“Yes,” you groaned, shielding your eyes from him as you looked down at your untouched coffee.
“Honestly? I don’t care much about that.”
Lifting your head, you stared at him in shock. “What?”
Harry shrugged. “David’s dated a lot of girls. I could barely keep track even before I left for London. I was bound to run into one of them sooner or later.”
Making a face, you sat back. “Not sure how I feel about that.”
Harry chuckled. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re just another chick, sweetheart. You’re anything but that, if I’m being honest. It just doesn’t matter to me that you dated my brother, that’s all. I like you. We had a good time, yeah?”
Color rose to your face as your body relaxed. “Yes.”
“Good.” Harry gazed back at the photo on his phone. “You were really cute, too. I would’ve asked you out if I hadn’t been a dorky freshman.”
A cackle escaped your lips as you looked away, turning back only to find a gorgeous, sexy grin on Harry’s face.
“You’re definitely not dorky now, Harry,” you commented.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
The moment was silent as you looked at him and blinked. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess I…was afraid it would spoil everything. I was enjoying spending time with you.”
“‘s alright. I enjoyed it too.”
Finally taking a sip of your latte, you looked up at him. “So where does that leave us?”
“Exactly where we were. I asked you here because I wanted to see you again.”
“And?” you tilted your head, hoping he had more to add.
“And…I was hoping we could get together again soon. Like this weekend.”
“Alright,” you said nonchalantly, lifting your cup to your lips.
Harry snickered. “Just alright? Did you have other plans?”
“Well, I might, Harry. It’s kind of late notice, and you don’t know me that well.”
He threw his head back laughing, and you couldn’t help but be pleased. You liked his laugh. A little too much. When he looked at you again, his eyes were dancing with glee. You took that as a good sign. Then he leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table.
“Tell you what, sweetheart. You let me know what time you’re free - either Friday or Saturday evening. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Pursing your lips, you grabbed your own phone from your bag and pretended to be looking at a calendar.
“Hmm, you’re in luck, Harry. I happen to be free both evenings,” you teased.
“That is lucky,” he agreed. “Let’s not play it by ear this time though, hmm? I wanna set a date.”
“Oh. So it’s a real date this time?” you quipped.
“What do you think this is?” Harry raised a brow, acting offended.
You chuckled. “A coffee date.”
“Ah!” Harry lifted a finger in the air. “But it is a date.”
Pulling your lips to the side, you rolled your eyes. “More like a coffee…meet up.”
“Don’t change the terms now, love, that’s not fair.”
You laughed out loud, enjoying the banter. “Alright, Harry. You can pick the night. You’re so stubborn, and if you weren’t so fucking cute I’d tell you just forget it.”
Harry slapped his hand to his chest. “Honey, that hurt.”
“No it didn’t,” you jested, trying not to show how affected you were by him calling you honey. “Drink your coffee.”
His dimples deepened as he lifted his cup. “Friday, okay?” he winked before taking a sip.
“Okay. Where are we going?”
“I have a friend whose band is playing. Would you like to go?”
“Sure.” Though you’d just done the bar thing the weekend before, Harry was just out of college and was probably still part of that whole scene. And it was his friend, so you didn’t have the heart to say no.
“Great,” Harry beamed. “I’ll pick you up around eight.”
You nodded again, taking another sip of coffee.
The rest of the coffee date was more flirting and teasing, some idle chit chat. Before your goodbyes, Harry was sweet to walk you out to your car, giving you a gentle, yet sensual kiss. And though it had been on the edge of your mind all evening, you didn’t bring up the Melanie text. You told yourself it was none of your business, but in all honesty, you didn’t wanna know the truth.
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“You’re seeing him again?” asked Deliah as she dug her fork into her salad. You’d finally managed to get together for dinner the next evening. And for the first time since Saturday night, Harry’s name was brought up when she asked about your weekend plans.
“Tomorrow. And I saw him yesterday for a coffee date.”
“So it’s getting serious already?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not serious, Deliah. It’s just fun.”
“Oh. Do you like him?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t have slept with him if I didn’t.”
“You know what I mean…” Deliah tilted her head and eyed you.
Shrugging, you reached for your water glass. “If you’re asking about feelings, Deliah, it’s way too soon for that.”
“I don’t know. I fell for Shane on our first date.”
“That’s because you’re special,” you winked.
Your friend smiled as she set down her fork and wiped her hands on her napkin. “Marcie’s still mad at you, you know.”
“I figured as much,” you commented. “She hasn’t replied to any of my texts.”
“She thinks you’re just trying to get back at David.”
“Who gives a shit about David?” you exclaimed. “I’m so over him.”
“Well, she thinks you’re not, and she’s afraid you’ll fall for Harry because he looks like him.”
Sitting back in your chair, you scowled, crossing your arms over your chest. “He doesn’t, actually. Sure, he resembles him a little because he’s his brother, but they are nothing alike.”
“I believe you, Y/N,” Deliah held up her hands. “I’m only repeating what Marcie told me.”
With a huff, you grabbed your water again and gulped it down. “I thought friends were supposed to support each other,” you added. “Not bring each other down.”
“I support you! I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are,” you sighed. Then giving a smile, you picked up your fork. “Besides, I’m not in love with the guy. He’s just really hot and good in bed. Like I said, I’m just having fun, okay?”
“Okay,” Deliah nodded.
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“So what’ll it be tonight, love?” asked Harry as you took a seat at a high top table near the stage, his hand on the small of your back. “Tequila shots again?”
“Only if you want,” you grinned up at him.
“No problem.” He lowered his mouth to yours for a soft, tiny kiss before making his way to the bar.
Setting your clutch on the table in front of you, you smiled to yourself. Harry had already kissed you a handful of times tonight, starting with the big, wet one he’d laid on you as soon as you’d opened your door. He’d stood there hatless for the first time since you’d met, his usual fratboy attire absent, or at least most of it. He still wore jeans and a button down, but this one was soft and silky, black with a small stitching design. On his feet he wore black boots, and he smelled like heaven.
“Fuck me, you look amazing!” he’d exclaimed, taking the words out of your mouth.
And before you could respond, he’d slipped his hands around your waist and covered your lips with his. It had taken you a few seconds to come down from that kiss before you’d had a chance to return the compliment, only to have him press another one on your mouth next to his car.
The way he kept stealing glances at you during the drive to the bar also confirmed you’d made the right choice in your dress this evening, and you knew without a doubt that an encore of the weekend before was imminent.
The bar was crowded as you gazed around and saw Harry returning, balancing the shots in one hand and two beer necks in the other. You giggled as you rose from your seat.
“Here, let me help you,” you offered, reaching for the shots.
“No, you take these,” he insisted, dodging the people around him.
Grabbing the beers, you returned to the table.
“I’ll be right back, I forgot the limes,” explained Harry.
“Harry, it’s fine,” you chuckled, grasping his arm.
“You sure?”
“Yes. It’s too crowded over there. I don’t need them if you don’t.”
“Not really,” he smirked.
Patting the chair next to you, you urged him to sit. He obliged, lifting one of his shot glasses.
“To you, sweetheart,” he announced.
“Me?”
“Yeah. For looking so goddamn sexy; I may have to cut out of here early or take you right here on this table.”
“Shut up,” you cackled, playfully pinching his thigh.
“Shit, don’t do that either, love, c’mon,” he hissed, grabbing your wrist.
“Harry…”
“I’m serious, babe. You turn me on so much.”
“Well…” you sighed, lifting your tequila shot. “The feeling’s mutual.”
Harry stared at you as you brought your glass to your lips. Then he did the same, shooting it down in the same rhythm you did. When you reached for your second glass, Harry raised a brow.
“Not taking your time now?”
“No,” you replied. “Not tonight.”
When you swallowed back the warm liquid, feeling it pulse through your veins, Harry followed. But when he nearly slammed his glass down, he leaned over and kissed you, sucking on your tongue. You held onto him to keep from falling off the stool.
While the kiss and the heated moment itself had seemed to drown out the noise of the crowd, you both were reminded of where you were when the sound of a screeching guitar interrupted your little private soiree. Wiping his bottom lip with his thumb, Harry gave you a dimpled smirk before whispering in your ear.
“Will definitely continue this later.”
Licking your lips, you nodded. “Which one is your friend?” you asked as the band kicked into their first song.
“The lead guitarist, right there,” he gestured. “Lance. He went to our school too, but he was a grade below me.”
“Oh.”
You sat and watched the band play a song you weren’t familiar with, but sounded catchy. Then they went into a song you did know, a throwback from college. Harry smiled widely at you as you began to sing along, then he slipped his hand up your knee underneath the table. You grinned back, covering his hand with yours, still mouthing the words. Reaching for his beer, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig while you continued to enjoy the band, raising your other arm in a fist to shout the lyrics to the chorus.
“This a favorite song of yours?” Harry asked in your ear.
“It was,” you replied. “Just brings back memories. It was one of my first concerts. I got really drunk that night, but don’t tell anybody.”
You giggled as Harry tried to urge his hand up higher on your thigh. “Wish I’d known you then.”
The band switched into a more modern track, and you used the opportunity to drink some of your beer. Your other hand still on Harry’s, you gazed around the room, seeing just how it had filled up since the band had started to play.
“Do you think all these people know the band already, or are they just here ‘cause it’s a bar?”
“Probably a mix of both,” Harry chuckled. “Lance said they have a bit of a following, though.”
“Is this the first time you’ve seen them?”
“Since I’ve been back, yeah. But I’ve known Lance forever, and he’s always been in some kind of band since high school.”
Just then, the song ended and the singer spoke into the mic, introducing the band and its members before starting the next song which was an original.
“Do you want another beer, or a shot?” asked Harry.
“I’m good for now,” you smiled. “But I think I’ll make a trip to the ladies’.”
Rising from your stool, you finally released Harry’s hand with a squeeze, then gave him a peck on the lips before grabbing your clutch and turning for the bathrooms. On your way, you noticed a blonde sitting at the end of the bar, her gaze straight ahead, though it didn’t appear she was watching the band. It looked like she was staring at Harry.
If you hadn’t had to use the restroom so badly, you would have done something, though you weren’t sure what. Instead, you hurried in the ladies’ room - as quickly as you could despite the short line - and began to make your way back to your table.
You stopped in your tracks, however, when you noticed the blonde had taken your seat. She looked like she was arguing with Harry, pointing at him and gesturing with her hands. Harry did the same, opening his arms wide as he spoke to her, until he finally shrugged and the girl stepped off the stool and huffed as she strutted away.
Swallowing hard, you slowly continued your steps toward Harry. He had his head in his hand, his elbow resting on the table when you slipped into your chair.
“Who was that?” you asked hesitantly.
“Oh…” he lifted his head. “Shit. Sorry. Do you want another-”
“Who was that girl, Harry?” you said again, firmly.
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh. She didn’t seem too pleased to see you.”
“She um…was looking for me, actually. Reckoned I’d be here.”
“She knows you’re friends with Lance,” you commented.
“Yeah.” Harry stared down at his beer bottle, peeling the edges of the label off with his fingernails. You could tell he was avoiding looking at you.
Exhaling through your nose, you placed your bag on the table in front of you. That must have been Melanie. Not really sure what else to say, you took a swig of your beer. The roaring sound of the crowd around you and the high decibels of the rock band seemed to be miles away as you stared at Harry, hoping he would say something. Finally, you spoke, for the silence between you was driving you crazy.
“Harry…” you leaned forward, placing your hand on his arm. He lifted his head to look at you, but his expression was not one you could easily read. “Do you wanna leave?” you asked.
Sitting up, Harry sighed, his shoulders dropping. Then he shook his head. “No. Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Me too,” you mouthed, though you didn’t really say the words loud enough to hear. Then you took his hand and looked him in the eye. “Harry, I’m enjoying being with you. I really like you. But…I don’t wanna be…”
“Shh,” he silenced you, pulling you to him in an embrace. Then he softly said the things in your ear that you’d hoped he would. “You’re not, sweetheart. Don’t even think it. I’ll tell you more about her later, if you wanna know. But it’s been over for a while. Alright?”
Pulling back, Harry looked at you, studying your face. “I don’t wanna leave…at least not yet. I wanna be here…with you.”
You nodded eagerly, believing his words…wanting to believe them. Bringing his hands to your face, he cupped your cheeks and placed a tender kiss on your lips. Blinking your eyes, you decided to let it go for now. He’d said she was an ex. He obviously knew who your ex was now. Maybe you were even.
You enjoyed the rest of the band’s first set until they stopped to take a fifteen minute break. Lance recognized Harry when he set down his guitar, and walked off the stage to greet him. When Harry introduced him to you, Lance gave a smile and a thank you for coming. They chatted and reminisced for a bit, and you half-wondered if Melanie’s name would come up, but it didn’t.
After Lance left, Harry announced he was going to the bathroom and would return with more drinks. You people-watched while he was away, swinging your legs underneath the table to the beat of the music playing through the speakers. You laughed at a handful of frat boys playing darts at the far wall, and snuck a peak at a couple making out in the corner. Your own desire was still amped up, despite the ex-girlfriend thing, and you secretly hoped Harry would decide to take you home soon.
When he wasn’t back in ten minutes, however, you started to get antsy and a little worried. There was still a crowd at the bar, and you wondered if he was there and needed help carrying your drinks. Grabbing your purse, you walked in that direction, but stopped when you saw your date on the other side of the bar talking to the blonde again. Your stomach suddenly in knots, you strode over to them and tapped Harry on the shoulder. He turned with a surprised look on his face.
“I’m gonna go,” you announced. “I’ll get an Uber.”
“Y/N, no!”
“Yeah…I am. You two obviously have some things to work out. And I’m not in the mood to wait for you to finish tonight.”
When you turned for the exit, Harry grabbed your arm. “Honey, please,” he said. “Don’t leave. I was just telling Melanie to leave, that I was here with you-”
“Melanie,” you repeated. “That’s her name?”
“Yeah, but-”
“Call me when this is over,” you said. “If that’s what you want. Otherwise, don’t call me…at all.”
You heard Harry call your name once more as you made your way to the door, scrambling to get your phone out of your bag. Once outside, you requested an Uber on the app, grateful there was a driver closeby.
You swore to yourself you weren’t going to cry because that would be foolish. You didn’t have any feelings for Harry. He was just some guy. Some really hot, sexy guy who’d made you come four times in one night.
Fuck it all!
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You didn’t hear from Harry the rest of the night. Though you sort of wished you would get at least an apology text, asking if you were okay, you got nothing. You got nothing the next day either, nor the day after that. By Monday you’d given up, deciding he was indeed just some guy, and just like his brother, if not worse.
You felt ashamed. Ashamed that you’d insisted it was just sex and told your friends you were just looking to have fun. You couldn’t even call or text them. Marcie would probably say “I told you so,” and Deliah, while she wouldn’t say it, would be thinking it.
It wasn’t until Thursday that you finally got a text from Harry. By then you’d just about forgotten his number was still in your phone. Almost.
Hi.
One word. That was it. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if you would respond. Such a guy thing to do.
You simply replied with the same word. Two letters. No emotion.
I just wanted to say I’m sorry.
Of course he was. Rolling your eyes, you typed back.
What for?
He took a minute to respond. You figured he was trying out different ways to explain without stating the obvious.
For everything, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Melanie. We broke up a while ago, but since I’ve been back she’s been trying to get back together. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Ok. Short and sweet. No need to go further and spew any word vomit. Keep it simple.
I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really like you, and I’m very attracted to you.
Biting your lip to keep it from trembling, you texted quickly.
So you got back together? You just wanted him to tell you already. Nip it in the bud.
Yes. I’m sorry, Y/N. And I’m sorry I haven’t called.
Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly. Then you typed your final response.
Thanks for letting me know. Have a nice life.
Tossing your phone on the bed, you sat on the edge and let yourself cry. Just a little.
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Three weeks later…
Summer was in full swing, the sun heating up the pavement as the tropical cocktails cooled your throat. You laid between Marcie and Deliah on the pool chairs, sunglasses on your face and a piña colada in your hand. This time the party was hosted by one of Marcie’s colleagues, Jennifer, whose husband was a doctor. Needless to say, the house was gorgeous, the enormous pool and outdoor bar only the icing on the cake.
You were glad to be hanging out with your girlfriends again. While you’d never gone into details about the Harry charade, you’d merely told them they were right, and that he was just wanting a piece of ass. You told them you were over it - in fact, had brushed it off your shoulders like it was nothing - when in truth, it had taken you a bit until the memory of Harry’s touch, his plump lips on yours, his cock deep inside of you had completely vanished.
Who were you kidding? He was still on your mind, every fucking day. But you weren’t about to tell them that.
Ian came up to Marcie and handed her another tequila sunrise, taking her empty glass from her. She thanked him with a term of endearment and you felt your stomach clench. Sipping on your cocktail, you watched the people in the pool throw a beach ball around. Suddenly, the music that was playing through the tiny, hidden speakers switched from the Sabrina Carpenter song you liked to a rock tune by Bon Jovi, immediately transporting you back to the last time you’d heard it.
You could still see him sitting there in Trevor’s loft, holding the glass of beer, a snapback backwards on his head as he stared at you. And as if he had known you were thinking about him, like magic he appeared.
He stood on the other side of the pool, wearing yellow swim trunks and a white t-shirt, sandals on his feet, and a fucking backwards cap on his head. Black shades covered his eyes, but you could swear he was looking right at you, despite the blonde in the blue bikini holding his hand right next to him.
Greg, Jennifer’s husband walked up to him then, and Harry shook hands with him. Then he turned towards the pool chairs behind him where he removed his cap and shirt and laid them down. The uneasy feeling in your stomach was too much to bear, so you shoved your drink at Deliah who glared at you in surprise.
“I don’t feel so well,” you muttered. “Going to the bathroom.”
Slipping into your sandals with haste, you rushed to the back door where Jennifer was just exiting.
“Oh, hey, I just put out more snacks on the kitchen island!” she announced. “Help yourself!”
“Thanks,” you said hurriedly, setting your sunglasses on your head before bolting for the stairs.
You figured a bathroom upstairs would be more private. With relief, you found one halfway down the hall and locked the door behind you.
You can do this! You breathed to yourself. Remember, he’s just a guy.
Taking several more breaths, you used the toilet and washed your hands before deciding you most definitely could do this. It wasn’t like it had been with David. You hadn’t been pining over Harry for twelve years.
Skipping down the stairs, you decided to stop in the kitchen to check out the snacks. You paused when you saw Harry inspecting the fruit and finger sandwiches, laying several on a paper plate. When he lifted his eyes and saw you, he looked surprised.
“Y/N. I…I didn’t know you were here.”
“Sure you did,” you quipped, grabbing a plate for yourself. “You saw me outside.”
“I promise, I didn’t,” he chuckled. “But…it’s good to see you.”
“Mmhmm,” you nodded, reaching for the dip.
“I mean it. You look…amazing.” You watched his eyes follow down your body in your two-piece bathing suit.
“Thanks,” you clipped as you diverted your gaze and started piling potato chips onto your plate.
Making your way around the island, you stopped in front of the watermelon, grabbing several chunks with your plastic fork. Harry hadn’t seemed to move since you walked in the room. But you heard him speak again when you reached for the sandwiches.
“Y/N…”
“Yes?”
“I really am sorry. I was hoping we could be friends.”
Finally looking at him again, you noticed a somber look on his face, one you hadn’t seen before. Regret? Maybe.
“Friends? Sure.”
“You mean it?”
With a nervous chuckle, you shrugged. “Whatever, Harry. But to be honest, I don’t usually become friends with a guy after I’ve slept with him.”
The back door opened again and Greg held it for one of the other guests.
“Oh, can you keep that open for me, please?” you called, carrying your plate of goodies. “Thank you!”
Stepping back out into the sun, you returned to your friends, leaving Harry alone on his island.
The hot afternoon had begun to cool down as the evening breeze blew in. Both Marcie and Deliah had been kind enough to let you know they’d noticed Harry had arrived but would be happy to leave with you if you wanted. You gave them both hugs, assuring them you were fine. Of course it was a lie, but one you were willing to tell for your own sanity.
You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off of him. He stayed on his side of the pool for the most part, and you figured it was mostly due to his girlfriend. Surely she knew you were there as well, and was avoiding any more uncomfortable situations. So other than getting in the pool for a bit yourself, you pretty much stayed in your chair or sat at an umbrella-covered table with your friends.
And of course, the alcohol helped. By four o’clock you’d had a pretty good buzz going and continued to keep it for the rest of the afternoon. It was much easier to have fun and not worry about the hot guy on the other side of the pool when you were tipsy.
By the time the sun was setting, Greg and some of his friends had grilled a delicious feast, everyone partaking with pleasure after the long, hot day. Afterwards, a few people started a game of volleyball in the pool, including Harry. When the other side needed another team member, you decided to join in.
“Y/N, are you crazy?” squealed Deliah.
“No, just drunk,” you laughed.
Taking a spot near the net, you watched Harry as he watched you through his shades. When he missed a serve, you snorted.
“How you gonna see the ball, frat boy?” you heckled. “It’s dark now.”
Slipping his sunglasses off his face, you caught the way he scowled at you. You also didn’t miss the way Melanie leaned over and whispered something in his ear.
The game continued, each team earning two points. But when Harry served, and the ball barely went over the net, you missed it.
“Tough break, princess,” Harry smirked, earning him a piercing look from Melanie.
“I shoulda gotten that one,” said the man standing next to you. “Not your fault.”
You smiled widely at him, knowing full well that Harry’s eyes were on you. This went on for a while. Though it wasn’t a tough game, you definitely got a glimpse of how competitive Harry could be. But you had to admit to yourself it was a turn-on. And though your team ended up losing, you were secretly happy that Harry got the win.
After the game, you grabbed your towel and headed for the house to change into your other clothes you had brought with you. You’d left your bag in a corner beside the sofa, and when you grabbed it and started up the stairs, you heard your name. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry coming up behind you.
“What are you doing?” you frowned.
“Just wanted to say that was fun,” he smiled his dimpled grin.
“The volleyball game?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you think so? You seemed to enjoy it.”
“I did,” you nodded, reaching the top of the stairs.
“So we can be friends,” he commented.
Stopping in front of the bathroom door, you turned around and looked at him. Really looked at him. His cap was back on his head, his eyes bloodshot from the chlorine. But he looked incredible. His skin was tan, as though he’d probably already been out in the sun many times that summer already. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, revealing his tattoos. And damn if those dimples didn’t make you want to swoon.
“Playing a game with you and your girlfriend does not make us friends,” you remarked.
“Why not?”
“Because…” you paused, gathering up just the right words and the courage to say them. “Because I didn’t wanna be the one who had to leave the bar that night.” 
Harry’s face fell, his expression contrite. He looked like he was about to say something, but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear it. Instead, you turned for the bathroom, but before you could shut the door, Harry followed you in, locking it behind both of you.
“What are you doing?” you asked this time.
But Harry responded only with his mouth. Colliding with yours, he kissed you fervently, his tongue invading your mouth with purpose and determination. Your brain told you to resist, to push him back and out of the closed space, but your body was doing the opposite. Your hand released the towel it was holding, letting it fall to the floor. With a moan, you threw your arms around his neck. Harry’s hands found your waist, sliding down and inside your bikini bottoms. They felt so warm against your cool, damp skin. He pushed down the fabric, letting them pool at your feet. Then he lifted you up and onto the bathroom counter.
“Harry…” you breathed as you stared at his gorgeous face.
Reaching behind you, he pulled on the string that tied your top around your back, then the one around your neck. Your breasts exposed, he cupped them before licking his lips and lowering his head to suck. You threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders.
When he lifted his head again, he smirked. “How quiet can you be, sweetheart?”
“Wha-what about…your girlfriend?” you came to your senses before he leaned in for another kiss.
“What about her?” Harry asked with heavy-lidded eyes.
You chuckled incredulously. “She’s downstairs, Harry. Or did you forget?”
With a groan, he leaned forward and let his head fall on your shoulder. “Shit. I think I made a mistake, love.”
“What?”
“I shouldn’t’ve gotten back with her.” His words were muffled against your neck, but you heard him clearly.
“Oh. Okay…” You hadn’t expected him to say that.
“I can’t get you outta my head, Y/N,” he added, looking at you again. “You’re so fucking sexy…but I think…it’s more than that. We’ve just…we’ve grown apart, Melanie and me.”
“So…break up with her.” You let the words slip out before you realized. Before you even admitted that’s what you wanted.
Harry blinked a few times as he considered your request. When you got no response, you gently pushed on his chest.
“I gotta go,” you said, sliding off the counter and reaching for your bag. You pulled out your clothes and stepped into your underwear.
Harry was still silent as you finished dressing. When you yanked your bag onto your shoulder, you turned to look at him.
“Bye, Harry.” Reaching a hand out, you touched his face, then gave his lips a soft kiss.
As you opened the door, you heard him say. “I will.”
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The knock startled you, waking you from your sleep. Throwing your hand out to your nightstand, you searched for your phone, lighting it up to check the time. It was half past midnight. A handful of texts with Harry’s name also displayed. Sitting up, you turned on the lamp, adjusting your vision.
Can I come over? I know it’s late.
I broke up with her.
Please, Y/N, I need to see you.
With a groan, you threw back the covers and crawled out of bed. The incessant knocking grew louder as you got closer to the front door.
“Okay, I’m coming, Jesus!” Swinging the door open, you were met with a familiar face, one you had just left a few hours ago. “Harry, what the fuck?”
“Sorry I woke you,” he said.
“No you’re not.”
Dropping his shoulders, Harry sighed. “No. I’m not.”
Pushing you backwards with his palms, he crossed the threshold, knocking the door closed with the heel of his boot. His arms wrapped around your waist before you could protest, his mouth covering yours.
You hated the way your lips fit together so perfectly. You hated the way your body reacted to his kiss. And more than anything, you hated the way you had wanted this to happen ever since you’d told him goodbye in that bathroom.
He guided you backwards toward your bedroom, or maybe you guided him. His lips didn’t leave yours until his hands tugged on your tank top, and you lifted your arms to help him remove it. Standing before him in just your panties, you stared at him, his fucking cozy flannel shirt, his ever present snapback.
“I broke up with her, Y/N,” he voiced softly, echoing his text.
“So you said.”
“It was a mistake to get back together with her. We just…wanted to try to make it work, you know? See if there was something still there between us-”
“Harry, shut up.”
“What?”
“I don’t wanna know about you and Melanie,” you chuckled, exasperated. “Why are you here?”
A smirk twitched on his lips as he stared at you incredulously. “What do you mean? I told you I needed to see you.”
“Yes, but are you gonna fuck me or not?”
His smirk widening into a full smile, Harry nodded, pulling you into another kiss. Removing his boots, he laid you down on the bed, his mouth trailing down your neck to nibble on your tits.
“Fuck, your skin is so soft. I’ve missed it so much,” he groaned, his hands sliding down your sides.
You grabbed hold of his hat, dropping it on the floor before running your fingers through his curls. Harry shimmied his body down between your legs while his mouth continued to leave a kiss on each part of your body down to your belly.
“This I’ve missed the most,” he whispered when his mouth stopped at your cloth-covered mound.
You whined softly as he slid his thumb up and down your slit, over your panties. You heard him chuckle low before your eyes met.
“Is this for me, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Yes. All yours, Harry.”
“All mine, hmm?” he breathed, reaching for the sides of your underwear.
You lifted your hips so he could pull them down, and he made sure his hands carefully but seductively traced your legs all the way until he reached your ankles. His body now on the floor, he knelt before you and pulled you closer so that your bottom was on the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide.
“Fuck, such a pretty pussy, sweetheart,” he growled. “And all mine.”
His ringed finger held your thighs open as his wet tongue slid up your slit, resting on the bundle of nerves. Your toes immediately curled, your fingers grasping the bedding underneath you. You moaned as he slowly began circling and tapping on your clit, a quickly heightened sensation that you’d forgotten you craved.
“Oh, fuck yes,” you whined.
You felt him moan against you which only accelerated your pleasure. Tugging on his hair, you urged him closer, needing to feel the friction and release. When his fingers joined in on the fun, you arched your back, crying out his name.
“Harry, oh god, make me come!”
“Yeah, baby, that’s the plan.”
You felt the tension in your core as his fingers hit the tender spot inside. Light-headed, you could feel yourself steadily reaching the precipice until the coil snapped and you cried out again, your legs trembling around his head.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Good girl,” Harry cooed as you came. “So fucking sexy.”
Your chest heaving, you moaned his name, over and over, as if you were finally spilling out all the times you thought about him, all the times you wished he was in your bed.
“Harry, Harry, Harry…”
With a chuckle, Harry slithered up your body. “I like that,” he said before kissing you. “Love to hear my name on your lips.”
“Mmm, I can’t help it, Harry. I needed you so bad.”
“Yeah? Been thinking about me, baby?”
You nodded, biting your bottom lip. You worried you’d confessed too much, but when Harry’s expression softened, and he whispered the words “me too”, you considered perhaps you hadn’t.
Sitting up, Harry removed his flannel and the t-shirt underneath. With a grin, you sat up too, on your knees, sliding your hands up his torso. He sighed when your lips met his chest and you kissed the ink that was displayed there.
“Mmm, that feels nice,” he said, his bedroom eyes on you when you gazed up at him.
Your fingers quickly found the button on his jeans, your hand slipping inside to cup his prominent bulge while your mouth continued to kiss his flesh, your tongue tracing the top of his butterfly tattoo.
“Fuck me, Y/N, you’re so hot.”
“So are you, Harry. I need to feel you.”
“Yeah? You want my cock, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please,” you nodded up at him with pouty lips.
Harry smirked as he leaned in for a kiss. “Oh you are so fucking sweet, aren’t you?”
You nodded, meeting his lips and sucking on his tongue. He moaned against you before crawling off the bed to remove his jeans and underwear. You reached into your bedside drawer to get a condom, happy to roll it on his incredible erection.
“C’mere, honey,” he growled as he stood at the foot of the bed. He pulled you to the edge again, aiming his hard cock at your entrance.
“Are you wet enough?” he asked.
“Very,” you exhaled, as he tested the waters for himself.
“Always so wet for me,” he grinned before entering you slowly. “Mmm yeah, so good.”
Holding on your waist, Harry fucked you slow and deep. Running your hands down your chest, watched him as he watched you, his green eyes dark in the lamp light. Your breaths quickened as he thrust faster, his hands sliding underneath you to lift you higher.
“Oh yeah, fuck me…” you cried. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah, you like that baby?”
“So much. Oh god!”
You watched his arm muscles flex, his stomach tighten as he fucked you harder. His jaw slack, his beautiful lips opened as he puffed out heavy breaths. He looked so sexy, you could barely stand it. When you cried out again, he slowed, lightly patting your behind.
“Turn over, babe,” he instructed.
Getting on your hands and knees, you scooted to the edge of the bed again where Harry eagerly grabbed your hips, guiding you to where he wanted you. You felt the pressure in your cunt as he slipped inside your walls, enveloping his cock and dripping down your leg.
“Fuck!” you exclaimed as he pressed his palm to your back.
“Fuck yeah, sweetheart, you feel amazing. Nice and deep.”
“Ohhh Harry!”
Harry’s moans got deeper and more guttural as he pounded into you. You grasped at your sheets, needing to scratch at something. When he slapped your ass, you almost came undone.
“Fuck baby, this is so good, but I wanna see your pretty face when you come,” Harry groaned. Pulling out, he urged you to turn around again. “Grab hold of me.”
You did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled you up as you wound your legs around him, his cock sliding back into place. You bounced on him, impressed by his strength as he held you up.
“Oh my god!” you cried out again.
“Oh fuck yeah!” Harry moaned, thrusting harder. “God, you drive me crazy, Y/N. Can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Mmm, me neither.”
He kissed you then, a deep, sensual kiss before lying you back down on the bed. As he hovered over you, the lamp reflected in his eyes, his gorgeous face full of desire. He resumed his thrusts, driving deeper and hitting the sweet spot, making you cry out all over again.
“Fuck me, baby!” you demanded. “Just like that, don’t stop. Make me come.”
“Yeah, you gonna come for me honey?”
“Yes!”
“Touch yourself. Touch your sweet clit while I fuck you.” He lifted your legs to his shoulders while you reached for your clit. It only took a couple thrusts before you were writhing underneath him, calling out his name.
“Good girl,” he cooed. “Y/N, you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”
He kissed you tenderly then as you trembled in his arms. Your heart beating heavily in your chest, your breaths quickened, you held on tightly, urging him to continue.
“I’m so close already, love,” said Harry through his own heavy breaths. “You feel so fucking good.”
He slipped his arms underneath your back and cradled your neck in his hands. He stared at you as he sped up his thrusts, deep groans rising from his throat.
“Ahh fuck yeah…ohhhhh…” Harry buried his face in the crook of your neck as he emptied into the condom. When he lifted his head to look at you, you both chuckled.
“Wow,” he breathed.
“I know,” you smiled.
“That was so fucking good,” he commented before dropping his head again.
You ran your fingertips up and down his back soothingly, giving him a minute to come down. When he rolled off of you, he gave you an amazing smile, his eyes cute and squinty.
“Mind if I stay the night?” he asked.
“Definitely not,” you replied, reaching to touch his curls.
“Good. Because I’d like to do that again.”
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