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buuniebaby · 5 months ago

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your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

#hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah smut #hamzahsmut

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maplebellsmods · 8 months ago

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So excited to share the mod i've been working on! Here is the Love Triangle Mod. Mapping this concept out was a bit difficult because I didn't wasn't sure how I was gonna go about creating the base structure. But I think it turned out fine in the end.

Here is everything you need to know:

Requirements for Love Triangle to appear

Romance Track with TWO Sims

Minimum 30+ Romance Score each

Once these options open up you will have the option to "Reveal Divided Heart". This would be underneath the Love Triangle pie menu (which is under the romance pie menu).

Note: Just because your Sim has revealed that they are in a love triangle, it doesn't mean that being romantic around either Sim won't result in jealousy. They can still experience jealousy; they are just aware that the Sim has feelings for them and another.

There a few interactions available for both the center and the two love interest.

Most of the interactions are pretty straight forward but that there are few that I will explain more.

The love interest also has quite a interactions available to them.

Ultimatum: The LI can also give the center an ultimatum. The options you can use after using the ultimatum interaction could be, "Open Relationship, End Relationship or Make Choice". But you do not have to. I wanted to make this as flexible as possible.

Since there are already lots of great open relationship mods, I didn't expand on that part because there are so many other ones that would be more fleshed out.

Your sim can also talk to someone they are close to about their predicament. The friendly love triangle option is available under the "Gossip/Other Sims" menu.

You also need to have a 80+ friendship level to have these interactions open up.

Explore Feelings and Reflect on Feelings are solo interactions. This basically involves your Sim think about how they feel. Depending on how high or low the relationship bar is with either sim you will can get a hint on how your sim is feeling about each Sim.

Finally there is the "Final Choice" . Once your Sim is ready to choose the SimPicker will popup. Be SURE to press on the Sim you are in Love Triangle with. Or else the game wont properly recognize that the Love Triangle is over.

No, it does not.

Credit for the pose: Here

What else do I need for the mod?

Lumpinou's Mood Pack Mod, so it is required for the mod to work properly.

You can get her mod here.

If you already have it great! But make sure it's up to date. Otherwise, it will break the UI

XML injector

I'm experiencing some weird bugs!

Let me know, please.

Report it here: Mod Bug Report

How to install the mod?

Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Mods <--- Unzip the file and make sure it's placed in this path.

Download Here

Public April 24th

#the sims 4 cc #ts4cc #the sims 4 #ts4 mods #ts4 #the sims 4 mods #ts4 cc #the sims #simblr #sims 4 edit #the sims cc #ts4 download #ts4 mod #sims 4 mods #thesims4

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showf4lls · 11 months ago

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ɞ ― make a home in you; chuckle sandwich

cw + info! fluff, headcanons / no CWs

includes! ted nivison + charlie slimecicle + jschlatt

dedication! @ivyinnit

notes! i’m currently trying to get over a breakup and am kind of struggling w yearning atmo so this request (while old) was kind of perfect thank you for dropping into my askbox, ivy!! little update: it’s been so long since i’ve received this request, i know. it should’ve been easy to get it out quickly, but school absolutely melted me this semester. i know that ivy’s deactivated now, but in the case that she comes across it, i hope you enjoy beloved <3

TED

⎼ y’all schedule out laundry days together. it’s cute as fuck okok

⎼ forehead and cheek kisses while you’re on your way out the door

⎼ if he wakes up before you, he makes your morning drink of choice just the way you like it! though, he prefers to sleep in with you

⎼ if you don’t have any important plans for the day and you’ve set alarms just for the sake of waking up at a certain time, he turns them all off before you wake up. he wants to give you an opportunity to rest as much as you need to; your body will wake up when it’s ready

⎼ brunch dates! while you guys prefer to sleep in together, you alternate between sleeping in and waking up at a reasonable hour depending on your plans. ted really likes taking you out to brunch and just walking around window shopping with you after

⎼ if either of you are going somewhere important, the other will help them get ready and run through a mental checklist with them before they go in order to make sure the person leaving has absolutely everything they need

⎼ y’all are constantly doing bits. it’s kind of confusing for your friends, but neither of you care much because you’re just having a great time

⎼ ted is an absolute gentleman always, not just in the honeymoon phase. constantly opening doors for you, helping you put your sweater on when you’re leaving the house, opening the car door for you. stuff like that

⎼ he rubber ducks for you a lot. just sits down near you and listens, letting you work out your issues by talking it out without feeling awkward about it

⎼ he’s just overall a great listener and very in-tune with your needs. only gives advice and input when you ask for it, but he always makes an effort to validate your feelings. holds you when you need him to and steps back when he senses that you need space. also really good at problem solving and helping out when you get overwhelmed or have sensory overload

– when you have bad days, he has a tendency to go above and beyond. he cooks dinner for you, makes sure your comfy clothes are all washed and clean, and generally just makes sure you have to do as little as possible so that you have the proper space to calm down

CHARLIE

– you guys have rapid fire joke contests together, usually late at night when you’re sitting on kitchen counters, snacking. you go back and forth until either the two of you are laughing so hard that it would be physically impossible to keep going, or someone can’t come up with a joke fast enough

– you try to stay on the sleep cycle but you both tend to get a little out of whack every once in a while, so you have these phases of going to sleep at a decent hour and then going to sleep when the sun is about to come up

– as such, you guys have these phases of making spontaneous runs to the grocery store or gas station to get snacks, usually cereal for some reason. you get whatever you want and charlie never lets you pay for any of it. on the later nights, you guys sometimes experiment with new flavors of things or weird snack combinations

– he has a thing about always making sure you’re warm enough. you’re a little chilly? he’s pulling his sweater off and pulling it over your head. once you’re all comfy and settled, he’s on his way to turn on the heater. your feet are cold? he’s running to get you a pair of fuzzy socks and a blanket in case your legs are cold too. even when you’re about to leave the house -- it’s colder than 50 outside? he’s scrambling around the house, gathering gloves and scarves and beanies for you to take with you in case you get cold, even if they don’t match. no other options but you’re still cold? mans is wrapping himself around you, trying to use his body heat to warm you up himself. he hates when you’re chilly and uncomfortable :[

– brings you home little presents all the time. literally anything that remind him of you. you have a collection of buttons and keychains that he’s seen while walking through shops. he also steals cool props from videos and projects to give to you. you have a little collection going

– loves pda all the time, but not always cuddling (which can sound confusing, but let me explain). he likes casual pda with you around the house, whether it be you resting your feet in his lap while you both lounge across the couch, sitting on the floor and leaning back on his legs while you watch a movie, him putting a hand on the small of your back while he moves around/behind you, holding onto your hand until you’ve walked out of reach, gently pressing his knuckles into your back while you’re laying on the other side of the bed and facing away from him. likes to be touching you when he can be but in little ways that aren’t super overwhelming (mostly because i feel like you’d both be too fidgety to just cuddle)

– some of your most domestic moments are spent in the kitchen, usually cooking dinner together. it’s light and warm and it feels so much like home that you sometimes find yourself questioning if it’s all real. he’s right there to tell you it is. but back to dinner. he loves cooking for you, and you love cooking for him. it’s all laughter and winding down from work days and gentle hugs and swaying together as he hums for you

SCHLATT

– it’s a little hard to find domestic moments with schlatt off the top of your head, but they’re there when you look for them. they’re quiet, but they’re ever present

– he sleeps a lot, meaning that you usually wake up before him. if he’s sleeping light enough to hear you get up, he’ll roll over, half asleep, wrap his arms around your middle, and pull you back into his chest, mumbling a groggy “ten more minutes, babe. i’ll be up then, jus’ ten more minutes.” it’s never just ten more minutes

– he picks you up and carries you around a lot. not in the typical way. if he thinks you’re working yourself too hard, he’ll grab you from your desk and throw you over his shoulder, dropping you onto the couch and forcing you to watch a movie with him. or you’ll be sleepily making yourself a snack in the kitchen and he’ll grab you from behind, just wrapping his arms around your middle and picking you up. he carries you, complaining and squirming, the whole way to your room and tells you it’s nap time

– you guys have a lot of nap dates. it’s an easy, sweet block of time for you guys to spend together, hazy and together while napping on and off. if one of you wakes up, you get to fondly watch the other nap until you fall asleep again. watch the easy rise and fall of their chest, run a hand through their hair, trace gentle patterns on their skin, play with their fingers, listen to the beating of your heart

– you do the dishes together. you wash and schlatt dries. sometimes you get into towel fights or start flicking water at each other with your fingers

– schlatt follows you out of bed when you get up in the middle of the night. he’d never admit it, but he has a hard time sleeping without you. he hates waking up to a cold bed. so when the clock blinks 3:17 and he feels around to find nothing beside him, even if your side of the bed is still warm, he huffs and gets up. pads through the house with puffy, tired eyes until he finds you. wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your head. “what are you doin’ outta bed?” he never waits for your response, just starts ushering you back to your room

– really likes seeing you in his clothes, again, not that he would ever admit it. he’ll purposely “forget” to do your laundry so that you have to start wearing his hoodies, tee shirts, sweats, etc. it just gives him the warm fuzzies, seeing you be so comfortable and cozy in his clothes

– hangs on you a lot on days when there’s nothing to do. he’s pretty idle about it, too, kind of like a character accessory. sometimes you just have to go around the house doing your stuff with this big man hanging off of you because you don’t have the heart to tell him to leave you alone for an hour or two to get your work done

#✩; yours truly #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #ted nivison x reader #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #chuckle sandwich fic #ted nivison fluff #ted nivison headcanons #slimecicle fluff #charlie slimecicle fluff #charlie slimecicle fic #schlatt fluff #jschlatt fluff #chuckle sandwich x reader

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a-simple-imagine · 1 year ago

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Nothing But Cowards

Requested by anonymous: “I was wondering if you could just write about, having a fight and then make up, fluff and angst? If not that’s totally fine”

“I'd like to request a Jordan Li x fem reader where they're dating in secret from the friend group because of everything going down but one morning they oversleep and one of their friends find them curled up in bed together and it's followed by giggles and fluff?”

Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader

words: 3.7k+

WARNINGS - mentions of weird hospitals and tortured kids, strong language

GodU had always been your parents' dream. they held such high and heavy hopes for you. their perfect little superhero. a future member of the seven. when you were younger, you hated the idea. you felt... exploited. they forced this life onto you. gave you compound V and for what? so you could become some clog in a corporate machine? help sell merchandise for Vought? but as you got older and realised that you were kinda stuck with your powers, you felt more obligated to follow through with their dream. to actually be a hero. so you applied for Godolkin University. got in. and became a crime-fighting major. that is how you met Jordan Li. They were much stronger than you would ever be. both physically and mentally. the ability to shift between two forms gave them two separate skill sets all wrapped up in one identity. and they were so confident in their identity. not always a boy. not always a girl. just so confidently themselves. and you admired them so much. They were truly the strongest person you knew or at least you thought so.

it was a weird moment shrouded in the darkness of night. you were shaking a little from rage or the cold, you couldn't quite tell. everything was so incredibly fucked. Marie's roommate had gone missing because of some stupid plan of Andre's imagining. you just found out that there was some weird hospital under the school that was experimenting on people; including Sam, Luke's brother who was apparently still alive and in fact did not commit suicide. not to mention Luke was still gone. he used to give some great advice. used to kick your ass in sparring sessions but would occasionally let you win just to keep you on your toes. he was your friend. and you missed him a lot. you could never understand what happened; or why it happened. All these mysteries were piling up like old comic books. so many chapters to one confusing story that if you missed a single issue it became almost impossible to follow. this was impossible to follow. everyone was arguing. people were taking sides. Marie wanted to find Emma, who had infiltrated the woods, to help Andre who was trying to save the kids trapped down there. Jordan was more pissed about rankings than tortured kids. Cate wanted everyone to just back up and not do anything reckless. you wanted to yell at them. you knew rankings were important to Jordan. they wanted to be the best. at least Cate was worried about not dying. your parents' words hang heavy on your shoulders. this was your chance to do some good. to live up to their dreams without becoming just another vought puppet.

"don't you want to be a hero?" your voice is loud. louder than expected. the question was mainly aimed at Jordan. the person who went toe to toe with Golden Boy just to protect Marie; someone they hardly even knew at that point. that was after the club. you wish you could say you don't think about that night. everyone else seemed to just move on but it haunts your dreams. it's a cloudy memory of white powder and thick red liquid. "we almost killed someone."

there is a brief flash of something. Regret, maybe? before the expression turns dark and defensive. "we didn't do shit." and that was partly the problem. you didn't hold the weapon but you still ran. you left a woman to bleed out because you were too high. even sober, you wouldn't have been able to do much but you could have done something. anything. Nobody likes to talk about that day. the same way nobody talks about what went down with Luke. or how, if they had their way, nobody would talk about this weird hospital. If Cate and Jordan got their way, you'd just go back to school where all that mattered was who held that number one spot. currently andre. not Jordan.

"Exactly which is worse, if it wasn't for Marie we would have all been royally fucked." you articulate. irritation bubbling deep in your chest. "we can do some good here- we can help people."

"you're just gonna get yourself killed"

"at least I'm not running away again," you say. Jordan can make all the scooby doo references she wants but you wouldn't entertain the thought of leaving this down to Marie once again. "you wanna know why Andre is number one instead of you?"

"politics."

"because he is the only one person here who is trying to do something." You growl. "you're just a selfish asshole." if all they cared about was their ranking then you had to explain it in terms they'd understand. Their jaw tenses.

"Okay so what does that make you?" they spit. a particular venom dripping from their tone. "I've helped people- actually saved people. can you say the same?" they ask. "you're basically scared of your own shadow."

"Jordan don't."

"no," they interrupt Cate before she can continue. "I may be selfish for not wanting to go on some stupid suicide mission but when you realise what's really at stake here, don't come crying to me." Jordan's words hang heavy in the air, how do you even reply to that? your mouth opens but nothing comes out so you just walk away. Leaving your friends to continue arguing.

a bitter flavour lingers in your mouth. a painful feeling concealed deep inside your chest. you can't control how others perceive you but is that really how Jordan sees you? some coward who ran to them whenever things got tough? maybe they were right. you were no hero. you may have superpowers. you may spend hours studying techniques and training in the gym but that's just school. it didn't mean anything. You had never saved the day. you had never actually done anything. you haven't spoken to Jordan. Not since that night. they had texted a few times but you haven't even opened them. you don't want anything to do with them right now but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss them. you missed them a lot. nobody knew about your situation with Jordan. you had both decided to keep it on the down low while you figured stuff out. and with everything going on, it had just never been the right time.

a knock at the door. you don't bother getting out of the bed you had been rotting in for hours; staring up at the ceiling as the sun went down and darkness enveloped the room. another knock. you bury yourself deeper in your duvet but the knocking doesn't stop. it just gets louder. a loud groan as you roll out of bed. your roommate was always forgetting their key but when the door opens, your stomach sinks. it wasn't your roommate. you instantly close the door.

"Seriously,"

"fuck off," you yell back. they knock again. yanking open the door, you spy Jordan Li once again. femme. sweaty. gym gear. duffel bag hanging off their shoulder. "fuck off," you push on the door again but they slap their hand against it.

"Just give me a chance," they probably just wanted to yell at you some more and you weren't in the mood. you shove harder. "I could stand here all night." your brow creases. Jordan probably would too. they're very persistent. with a heavy sigh, you relinquish pressure on the door and it swings open as they let themselves in.

"what do you want?" your eyes follow her as she drops the gym bag down and begins wandering around your room. they had been here before. They knew what it looked like. their hand slides over the wood of your desk. they pick up the open book, presumably glancing over the content before dropping it back down. "Jordan."

"hm," they look at you almost perplexed. like they had been lost in their own little world.

"what do you want?" you request more firmly. they just stared back like it was a crazy thing to be asking. they drop back to lean against your desk. you're waiting for them to say something. anything. but their gaze just falls to the floor. you sigh softly, still loitering by the door. you would leave if this wasn't your room. "why are you here, Jordan?"

"I wanted to see you," their shoulders rise and fall. "everything is so fucked up. a hospital under the school like what the fuck?"

a secret hospital under the school was very messed up. you can't even imagine the things they get up to down there. also, Luke's brother was down there. that's why Emma went down in the first place before she disappeared. "yeah," you nod a little. "I guess."

"And Luke's brother being alive this whole time?" you wonder where this is going. you knew all this. you were there when everyone was arguing. your brow furrows a little.

"Can you get to the point?"

"well it's a little fucked isn't it?"

"You're being weird," you state. monitoring them carefully. they still wouldn't look at you but they did push up from the desk and towards the mini fridge.

"you got anything to drink?" they question, pulling it open.

"Jordan. leave."

"What?" they ask, still looking in your mostly empty little fridge.

"I said leave," you declare firmly. "I would like you to leave."

"why?"

"you know why." they sighed loudly, thrusting the fridge closed with a loud slap. "you don't get to just pretend nothing happened."

"I don't know why you're angry, you're the one who called me selfish." Jordan insists. "Said Andre was better than me."

"You are selfish. All you care about is your stupid ranking."

"It's not stupid," Jordan fires back. "It is important if I wanna get somewhere,"

"Who fucking cares," you groan "Like I get it, you wanna be a hero but this is way bigger than all that."

"And what are you gonna do exactly?" there's a bite behind her words. She's getting defensive. "Whats your plan to save the day Superman?"

"I don't..." you snap before trailing off to a much quieter tone. "know exactly,”

"It's a death wish,"

"We have to do something.”

“no, we don’t.” Jordan replies. “we don’t have to do anything. This is way above our pay grade.”

“of course, you’d say that,” you groan loudly. “can you leave now.”

"I-" They seem like they're about to bite back but they stop short. a tense jaw. they let it go. "I miss you, okay."

"I don't care," you did care. "leave." you yank open the door. For a beat, they seem taken aback but it rapidly fades. "now."

"just hear me out."

"no Jordan," you huff. "just go. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

they watch you for a second. "I don't want to argue" they clarify. "please?” there’s an unusual desperation in their voice. one you’ve never heard before. it builds a degree of sympathy amongst your anger. you let the door fall closed with a click.

“fine," you cross your arms over your chest "What do you want?"

"you were right," she declares softly. the statement alone takes you by surprise. Jordan? admitting she was wrong? you'd comically gasp if you weren't annoyed with them.

"I don't understand."

"I said you were right."

"No, I heard you," you explain. "look, Jordan-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" they reply sharply "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"why are you making this so difficult?" Jordan asks. "I've apologised so can we just watch a movie or something?" you raise a curious brow. Surely they weren't naive enough to believe you would simply forgive them just like that? There was more to this story that they were avoiding.

"you can't be fucking serious," a humourless laugh. "you don't even really mean it."

"I do though."

"no you don't," you sigh. walking towards them. "look at me and apologise- apologise properly."

"Ugh, I already apologised," they groan loudly, pairing it with a roll of their eyes. It just annoys you even more. "why can't you just forgive me?"

"Because you don't even know why you're apologising," you stress. "it's half-baked. you don't mean it. and I'm tired so-”

"I'm fucking scared" they blurt out. "I'm scared."

A look of surprise; shock. Their very loud confession caught you off guard. Jordan Li wasn't scared of anything. They’d made that bold claim a great many times. "of what?"

"of losing you," they yell back; their hands come up to run slowly over their face. Their hair becomes shorter. They physically grow taller. Shielded by his fingertips, it's pretty apparent that he shouldn't have said that or at least hadn't meant to. You don't know what to say; your head tilts slightly to one side. how do you respond to that? it still wasn't technically an apology. "for fuck sake."

"of losing me?" you recite slowly. "why would you lose me?"

"Because you're an idiot," they urge. "who wants to help people."

"dude."

"Sorry but like it's true. you're a fucking idiot," they repeat. "and I admire that."

"I'm... confused," you mumble softly.

"I admire how much you wanna help people despite knowing it’s stupid and you're probably gonna die" You can't tell if Jordan is just oblivious to what he was saying but it was far from getting him back in your good graces. "I wish I could be like that. naive enough to think I can make a difference."

"I feel like you're just insulting me," you comment.

they shrug a little. "I know this is still kinda new, the whole me and you thing but…” you can tell this is hard for them. expressing their feelings was not their strong suit. Their head hangs low. “it doesn’t matter,” they walk towards you but instead veer off towards their bag. you reach out for them; taking their hand. they were running hot, a sweaty hand.

“you can tell me,” you express, a gentle squeeze. “we’ve been friends for ages…”

“you’re just gonna call me selfish again.” their voice a whisper but they make no effort to pull away. You step closer.

“then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?” it’s a joke. a harmless one but they don’t laugh or even acknowledge it.

“I… I just don’t want you dying before we get a chance to really explore whatever this,” they use their free hand to motion between you. “is. so yeah, I lashed out because I like you or whatever and want you alive. sorry.” you watch them for a moment. their inability to meet your gaze. the light dusting of pink that graced their cheeks. it was really sweet if not a little unexpected. Jordan was so cool most of the time. it was a rarity to see them express such emotions. it makes you smile. you just laugh a little in amusement.

"Jordan," you say warmly. "you're not gonna lose me," you step even closer, reaching for their other hand; running your thumb over their knuckles. "I understand what you're saying but I don't think it's reason enough not to help,"

"I know," the express softly, finally meeting your gaze. there is something unspoken behind those eyes but you choose not to push. “I wish it was.”

you keep your eyes on there’s taking in this tender moment. a moment of vulnerability. a moment of connection. you relish in the way their hands fit so comfortably in yours. you really liked Jordan. liked their attitude. admired their strength. wished for their sense of loyalty. you were so smitten. so lucky to be their chosen person. a smile settles before you slowly lean in. It catches them off guard but they soon settle into it. “I’m scared too,” whispered against their lips. "but I think the bravest thing we can do is try anyway.“ his eyes flutter closed, letting his forehead fall against yours.

"I didn't mean it when I called you a coward," Jordan whispers, his eyes open. Lingering on yours. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

"I am a coward," you express. "I've always wanted to be a hero. it's all my parents want. but I'm scared. terrified. I never could have fought Luke like you did. but I wanna try now. I want you to try too," you ghost their lips. It's subtle; intimate. "if you really wanna protect me, Jordan, you'd help because I'm doing this with or without you."

"do I have to decide right now?" they ask quietly. You're almost disappointed by their reply but you can't really blame them. This wasn't another student hero gone rogue. This was a whole institution willing to do anything to keep its secrets. "do you forgive me?"

"do you forgive me?"

"I was never mad at you,"

"I was mad at you." you declare.

"I know," they nod. "you weren't exactly subtle about it." their expression becomes playful and bright; a strong contrast from the conversation you were just having. You can't help but smile as you pull back.

"do you wanna stay over tonight?" there's a shift in the air. all that tension fading away. you're not mad. you're not thrilled either. but you liked Jordan. a lot. and you could understand their desire to protect you. In a way, it was very sweet. You didn't realise how much they liked you. "we could watch that movie? or Property Brothers? whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh?" their hands vacate yours and instead move to your hips. Pulling you close. ever so close. pressing their body ever so slightly into yours "Anything at all?" masc! Jordan was taller than their male counterpart but far less intimidating. firmer. gentler. it’s a rather present contrast.

"you're such a perv,"

"you don't even know what I was gonna say," they insist.

"Anyone with half a brain could figure it out," you tease. their hands slip around to the small of your back pulling you flush against them. playing into your words. "but what Jordan wants. Jordan gets." whispered in their ear, you place a gentle kiss upon their cheek. "right?"

you can feel them practically shudder against you. A heavy sigh left their lips. "oh she wants to play tonight?" all signs of sincerity washed away by something darker. desire. you meet their eyes, lips quirk up into a smirk before they lean in once more. it’s ever so light but you’re quick to deepen the kiss; chasing that warmth that spills through your veins but they pull away instead. mischief laces their expression. their fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. they pull back just enough to murmur, “I’m gonna make you beg for it,” their words hot against your ear. A shiver spills down your spine as you lean into them; wanting to be closer. As close as possible as they guide you back towards your bed.

it's safe to say you're smitten with the infamous Jordan Li. and when it comes down to it you're delighted when you're together. they bring out a more mischievous side of you. and you like to think you bring out a more vulnerable side of them. You shuffle further into their embrace. Basking in the feeling of their arms around you as you hide from the rising sun peeking through the blinds. A content hum as you drift in and out of consciousness. Still so early. You feel them lean more into you.

"what the fuck," a voice drags you to the land of the living. And as your tired eyes flutter open, your friends stare back. Both you and Jordan shoot up, instantly breaking any contact. Pulling the covers up to hide the fact you were both very naked. Marie stands at the end of your bed; wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. Cate and Andre are just by the door. how the fuck did they even get in? "we should- sorry," you watch Marie scramble for the door shoving Andre out just as Cate yanks him.

you both fall back down in unison. If anyone had seen it would almost seem planned. After a moment, you roll back into them. giggling into the crook of their neck. after a moment you nip the skin. "guess we're not a secret anymore," muttered against their skin.

"This isn't funny."

"it kinda is," you shrug "Quite the shock for those three." A giggle before you sink your teeth into her neck earning yourself a satisfied sigh but they're quick to push you away. A stern look on their face

"you agreed it was best we didn't tell everyone until all this craziness was over."

"yeah but don't you feel just a little relieved," you ask. You can practically see the gears turning in their head. It's... Cute. You move so that you're now straddling them, hands drifting delicately over their chest. Their skin is so warm; and soft. Their short bob is a mess against your pillow. they looked so peaceful. so beautiful. A strip of yellow sunlight reflected off their chain. "I'm glad everyone knows now. plus," you smile mischievously. "now I can kiss you whenever I want. " You lean down slowly and place your lips against hers. "and that's all I want," mumbled against their lip.

"I guess it is one less thing to worry about," they muse, bringing their hands up to rest against your hips. her fingers apply just a little bit of pressure. you peck their lips once more before pulling away. a gentle tap on their nose, their face scrunches up.

"you shift in your sleep sometimes did you know that?"

"What?"

"you were definitely a guy when we fell asleep and then suddenly I'm snuggling up to a girl? is it like a conscious choice or?" they hesitate for a moment before playfully shoving you off them.

"shut up,"

"ow!!" you groan dramatically, falling down against the bed. "ow. that hurt so much. I'm in so much pain. how could you be so mean," you groan loudly, shuffling about a little for dramatic effect.

"you’re so dramatic,” Jordan rolls their eyes but a mischievous grin spreads over their lips. “now get up we’re gonna be late.”

“for what?”

“class.” they sit up. a hand coming to settle on your stomach. you don’t move. and neither do they. and in those few seconds, everything feels at peace. “you really are beautiful,” they eventually say before finally getting out of bed.

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #the boys #jordan li x you

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such-expensive-mistakes · 1 year ago

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Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

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It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following. It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish. She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone. At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work. “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up. Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh. Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?” Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands. “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film. It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”

“That’s… really weird.” Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.

Lois does laugh at that. “It is, a bit. But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says. “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says. Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says. “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.

“You can tell me,” Lois says. “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.” Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up. Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back? She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again. Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories. Those are all Batman.” That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension. But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home. There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says. "He's a good friend of mine. And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully. "Right. I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him. He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins. "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice. Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension. Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on. Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off. If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says. “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted. “I— yeah, that works. Not like I have anywhere else to be.” He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

#superpham au #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic

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bugboybuck · 3 months ago

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i dont have time to write something proper for day one of @bucktommypositivityweek but i wanted to share a lil drabble/ramble anyway in the spirit of things, so: what tommy loves about buck

tommy grew up in a stiflingly oppressive environment, a household full of anger and coldness. he lived in fear about who he was, what he wanted. he was threatened by his father, his army COs, gerrard, and his survival response was to hide himself away, lock up parts of himself, bury the things he could get hurt for.

his first thought upon getting to know evan wasn't 'wow, here's a perfectly adjusted guy who hasn't had any struggles.' frankly, between his adorably awkward jokes, casually mentioning getting struck by lightning, and trying to kill his best friend with mind lasers over tommys attention, evan seemed like a bit of a hot mess.

but what drew tommy to him so strongly was seeing someone who'd clearly had a lot of weird, difficult life experiences still be like - that. bouncing around on his feet with energy when tommy showed him around the hangar, making dumb jokes, throwing himself headfirst into a basketball game he didn't even like. bringing a brand new date to his sisters wedding. folding tommy into his family nearly immediately, every one of his actions screaming I'm serious about this; no reservations, no holding back.

it only got worse - better - as they got to know each other. it felt like every date they went on, evan dropped some insane piece of lore from his life. his injuries on the job, his disastrous track record with romance, the wild travels he'd been on while finding himself. not too long into knowing each other, the whole thing about his brother, and his parents, and his sister - which explained a lot of the abandonment issues tommy could have seen from space.

and whenever he says something like that, tommys first thought usually isn't marvelling at how ridiculously unlucky Evans life has been. it's how amazing he finds it that evan is still open and happy and throws himself into everything he does head-first, like he's trying to trust the universe to, this time, not let him down.

tommy knows evan isn't all sunshine and roses. he gets downright snippy when he has a to-do list, is more than a bit neurotic, over-anxious about pointless things when tommy's more a 'go with the flow' kind of guy (a 'sure I'll fly into a hurricane for an old friend' kind of guy, a 'I've come out the other side of the shittiest time of my life already, so what have I got to lose?' kind of guy). but evan is - so open. even when he's being annoying, he doesn't try to reign it in. his brain is like a steel trap for facts, he's far from dumb, but when he doesn't know something, he openly and instantly admits it. he's free with hugs and affection but also with a bitchy comment if someone deserves it. he over-shares with no shame. he over-everythings, really. he's so much. and tommy has spent most of his life with not-enough. depriving himself; being deprived. he wants to gorge himself on evans too-much-ness

tommy feels like evan lives his life wide open. and he knows evan has been hurt a lot, for it. but for tommy, who spent thirty years stuffed into a cramped closet space - who felt claustrophobic, trapped, like he couldn't see the sky - Evans openness gives him the same feeling as flying. awe.

so that's what tommy loves most about him. the fact that he's a badass and a blowjob savant who cooks and is built like a sexy brick wall are all just bonuses.

#bucktommy #bucktommypositivityweek #evan buckley #tommy kinard #mine #i might clean this into a proper bit of writing at some point but for now

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jagdkommandos · 1 year ago

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NSFW alphabet template (König Edition)

I made this account to try and get into writing more so i thought a prompt template might be a fun way to start it off….various headcanons of König because I spend too much time thinking about him🥰 maybe some brief mentions of harder kinks but nothing graphic/detailed or illegal dw

Original Template here!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Always concerned with your wellbeing when you finish, he’ll immediately get you water and hold you. Afterwards he’ll get your clothes if you ask, or let you lay in the bed and rest as he makes dinner. Loves to do things after, and will make snacks so you can stay in bed and watch movies or spend time together.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For his partner’s body, their legs/hips. He’ll cover them with kisses and bite marks, manhandling them any chance he gets (only with your enthusiastic consent, of course)

For himself, his arms. He loves being able to hold you so strongly, and carry you around in them. He also loves watching you grab his biceps during missionary, they make a great holding bar so you don’t slide away from his force.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

cums A LOT. With little experience, and not making masturbation a habit, when he does go at it he goes hard. Not only does he have a huge load, but he’s gonna want to come multiple times. He loves seeing it on or in you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

ties into wild card a bit further down, but he’s definitely into some more degrading stuff. He really loves that he’s basically guaranteed to be bigger than his partner, because he loves feeling like he has control, but he goes to great lengths to hide it because he feels bad about it. In theory, he’d love to call you names or be rough during sex, but the one time he tries he probably feels so terrible he stops, even if you like it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s definitely had a couple partners in his life, but he hasn’t been sleeping around. He knows the basics, but if you wanted to try something spicier, he might need some direction.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

On top, facing you with your legs on his shoulders. dunno what you’d call that, but it definitely gives the perfect view of your reaction and the best angle for kissing and biting.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s too self conscious to act silly or weird during sex, and will try to act reserved, but he’ll match whatever mood you’ve set once he’s more comfortable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Relatively well trimmed, I don’t think he’d be totally bald or have any designs but he likes to keep the hair short and out of the way.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Super romantic, the first few times you had sex in a relationship he would definitely always initiate it with a date first. Even when it became too regular for that to be convenient, he’d still approach you in a very loving way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t do it a lot, his anxiety gets in the way when he’s left alone for too long and he gets paranoid about someone catching him. He’ll do it if he gets worked up enough, though.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

any sort of marking. He would probably never admit it, but anything like branding, biting, any sort of symbol of unification.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A good old bedroom, preferably one set up beforehand to be suited for a few hours of intimacy (think big bed, lots of pillows, flowers on the table, toys in the bedstand, waterbottles on hand for when you take breaks. He’s a sucker for cheesy romantic settings.)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any buildup of sexual tension drives him mad if he wants you. Interrupted before he has to go to work? he’ll spend the whole day with you in the back of his mind. Edging him or teasing him? He’ll get so frustrated he wants to throw you on the bed and have his way. He’s also totally into restraining his partner, because he loves watching them try to resist the pleasure he gives them. Anything that shows him you’re overly eager for him will drive him crazy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything public. This dude def even locks the bedroom door when you go at it. He doesn’t want to be caught in an awkward position, and he doesn’t want to put you in one, either. He’d be too busy watching his surroundings to enjoy himself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves receiving, but he’s a fan of giving too. He’d never demand it from you, but if you initiate head he’ll lose his mind. He’s pretty good at giving, and he’d offer to pretty often, but he loves being able to watch your face as he receives.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He starts out slow and romantic, trying to be gentle, but has a hard time containing himself and always ends up increasing his pace after a while.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not a fan, He doesn’t feel like it provides equal satisfaction to both parties. He much prefers multiple short rounds in a row, or one long session. Quickies feel too impersonal and almost disrespectful because he doesn’t just bang to get off.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes the idea of risks, but only in controlled environment. He wouldn’t be able to do anything genuinely public or rank-risking, but he’d probably be into roleplaying it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He doesn’t last long before nutting, but he regains energy fast (you can’t tell me this massive specops dude doesnt have record breaking recovery time) and is ready to go for multiple rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He wouldn’t use anything like a fleshlight, but he’d keep a small collection of various toys of your choosing for him to use during sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bigger on being teased than teasing. Egging him on when you can’t have sex will basically ensure a wild time when he gets you alone. He won’t be able to stop thinking about it the whole time. Once he’s comfortable though, he’s definitely more eager to tease you back or start it, because he actually enjoys the dynamic.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Tries to be quiet, fails miserably. He’ll start out with heavy breathing, but it’ll descend into a series of swearing, german words, and loud grunting. He also LOVES to hear you make noise, otherwise he worries he’s doing it wrong.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Into some more extreme things, but he’d never tell anyone that. Knifeplay, blindfolding, branding, biting, etc. but only, ONLY if you are the one who initiates it, and you’ll probably have to practically beg him, because otherwise he will always feel bad about it, even if you agree and he asks first.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

dude is RIPPED. He has largely athletic related hobbies, and an active job in the military, so he stays in top shape. He’s got pretty clear skin because he’s got good hygiene, and all his body hair is either trimmed or removed because he doesn’t like how it looks or feels under all his gear. He’s got a decent amount of scars from work, mostly along his chest and arms but also some on his lower body and maybe a couple on his face. Also definitely packing, because he is 6’10 and because I say so. It’s gotta be like 13 inches long.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a high sex drive, but the average person would never know because he has it under great control. Unless you initiate, he’s never gonna harass or beg because he’s horny, but he will take care of himself once he’s alone. Live with him as his girlfriend though, and you’ll never have a free moment.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

sex wakes him up. You’ll wake up hours after sex and find him still busying himself with various tasks and hobbies, cleaning the house, etc. as if it reinvigorated him. Sometimes he’ll even ask for it if he knows he has a lot to do in a night, because it motivates him and acts as a stress reliever.

A/N: I hc könig as a huge service top and i cant stop thinking about it so thats what 90% of this is sorry i need him to be my husband rn

#modern warfare fanfiction #call of duty headcanons #modern warfare smut #modern warfare headcanons #konig x reader #konig modern warfare #konig imagine #modern warfare konig #konig headcanons #konig x you #konig smut #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare x you #konig x y/n #modern warfare 2 headcanon

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storm-angel989 · 6 months ago

Note

heyy ik this is weird to ask but cam you do valentino's daugher x vox idk why but im screaming for content and honestly i think it would be interesting to see if they "got along" you coulf say you dont have to do this i just find this a interesting concept like imagine if they had more of a special bond then valentino and his own daugher plus im sorry if this is to much to ask for

Hi there,

Sorry for the delay! Take a peek at this one- and let me know if you were thinking a different vibe!

~Mandy

“Hey, Uncle Vox!” I called cheerfully as I walked into his office. Two more nights, two more until my final game of the school year. As an avid water polo player, my games were the height of my highschool experience and this final game this year was one I had been working hard towards. I tossed my backpack on my desk next to my Uncle Vox’s and slid myself into my chair.

My weekday routine had been the same since I started school. With my father being The Valentino, and the odd hours he worked, it was my Uncle Vox who usually woke me up early and kept me on a schedule. Brushing my teeth, getting me dressed, breakfast and out the door when I was little. Now that I was sixteen, that morning routine looked a little different. Instead of waking up at seven, I woke up at four with Uncle Vox. We hit the gym together, then parted ways until it was time for breakfast- or more importantly, coffee. Sometimes my dad joined us, and sometimes my Auntie Vel joined us. But with their ever changing schedules more often than not it just wasn’t practical for them to join. So Uncle Vox stayed the consistent one.

“Hey yourself, kid,” Vox replied as he stood up out of his chair. “Your dad is on the line, he wants to chat with you.”

I slid into Vox’s seat and my fathers face appeared on the monitor in front of me. My heart soared. I bet he had a big surprise waiting to celebrate after tomorrow night.

“Hi Daddy!” I said cheerfully. “Are you ready to watch me rock it tomorrow?”

My father’s face looked sad. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about bebita. I’m sorry, I won’t make it. I have a crisis to handle down in the greed ring and I…”

I could feel the sadness wash over me. The rest of the conversation went in one ear and out the other and I tried to hide my crushing disappointment.

“I’m sorry baby, but your Uncle Vox and Auntie Vel will be there and they promised to keep me updated.” My father finished. “I’ll make it up to you later okay? We can do whatever you want. Daddy daughter day.”

Yeah, sure. I had heard that one before. To date, he owed me no less than six daddy daughter days. And the flowers and trinkets he sent to make up for his absence didn’t help either. He tried- I knew it. But nothing he said or did would make up for his lack of presence.

I signed off and put my head in my hands as I tired to keep tears from falling down my face. I felt Vox’s hand on my shoulder and I looked back at him as I bit back bitter disappointment.

Vox seemed to recognize the look on my face. “Aw honey, I know. But we’ll be there. I promise.” He squeezed my shoulder gently. “Your Auntie Vel and I will cheer you on.”

“Yeah, at least someone cares.” I muttered as I rubbed my eyes.

“Now you know that isn’t true sweetheart,” Vox began. “Your Daddy loves you very much, his work just…”

“You make time for me!” I said angrily. “You make it a point to sit with me and go to my games and ask me about my day, I can’t remember the last time I saw my dad at one of my games or even just right after school!”

“My schedule is a lot more fluid than your dads is sweetheart,” he replied calmly. “I understand your frustration, but if your dad could make it he would.”

It was the age-old argument. After a few seconds, I stood up and Vox pulled me into a hug.

“Hey, you’re loved. Don’t forget that, okay?” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “Now let’s get that homework done.”

I scowled but sat back down at my desk. The homework rule had been instilled by my father from my first days of preschool. Home. Snack. Work. Sometimes at my pink desk in my room, if it was Dad or auntie Vel picked me up. But more often than not, it was uncle Vox who showed up in the limo and he had work to do too. As I grew, the desk next to his grew as well. From a tiny pink plastic chair to a full grown pink office chair- I sat right by Uncle Vox almost every single day.

His snack drawer too changed as I grew- from cheeze-itz, to fresh fruit, to protein bars and goldfish.

“Hey, can you check this one?” I asked after a few moments of work. “Uncle Vox?”

“Did you try it three times three different ways and watch a video?” He replied back without another glance.

“Yeah.”

“Then, sure.” He lifted his head up and picked up my homework sheet. He glanced it over. “I think this is a quadratic formula problem. You forgot the square root sign- remember the song?”

“I do but…”

He cleared his throat. “X equals negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus for ac all over two a!”

To his credit, the song was a great study tool. To my mortification, Vox couldn’t sing worth a damn.

“You’re way too enthusiastic about math,” I muttered as I made the correction.

“But I was right wasn’t I?” He teased as he turned back to his computer.

“That’s not the point,” I replied. Not to my surprise, the problem worked itself out. “Thanks Uncle Vox.”

I stood up and leaned in between him and his desk wrapped my arms around him. “And thanks for being the best uncle a girl could want.”

I felt him return the hug. “Love you, kiddo. More than you’ll ever know.”

I released him and he grinned. “If you get your homework done quickly I’ll take you to the pool and run a few practice rounds with you. And then I’ll take you out to dinner- see if Auntie can meet us.”

The work that went into Vox being able to get into the water was tremendous- not to mention he’d be leaving his job early.

“Really? You have time for that?” I asked.

“For you sweetie? I’ll always have time.”

#hazbin hotel #the vees #valentino x you #valentino #the vees x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #vox x reader #valentino x wife #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #voxval #vox hazbin hotel

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sykoangels · 1 month ago

Text

EXPERIMENTAL

kinktober day 2 - Dacryphilia

paring: fem!reader x dr.stein!souleater

warning: slight dubcon and gore , degradation/ praise , pet names , pain kink?

author note: oh stein i love you so!

Working as a weapon at the Death Weapon Meister Academy (DWMA) is a truly rewarding experience. Each day, You have the privilege of guiding and supporting young students, playing a pivotal role in shaping their futures. Many of the academy's graduates go on to join the staff, a testament to the impact of the education and mentorship they receive. It's worth noting that Lord Death tends to favor certain students, often leading them to become staff members. Despite the complexities of your situation, you find yourself partnered with your ex-boyfriend, Dr. Frankenstein Stein, by Lord Death. Despite your history, Lord Death seems to believe that you and Dr. Stein have the best chemistry among all the weapons and meisters. Navigating this dynamic presents its own set of challenges, but you remain dedicated to fulfilling your role at the academy.

After graduating from the academy, life was practically smooth sailing. You had been people‘s weapons for a little while, but you currently didn’t have anyone who would be your Meister. You didn’t have a problem with this because at the time you didn’t want to be anybody's weapon and fight crime you kind of just wanted a normal life. You started working in a cafe in downtown Death City. The job was pretty easy nothing serious but that’s where you met you’re on again off again boyfriend Spirit. The relationship is rocky, to say the least, it’s only because of Spirit’s attitude and the fact that he’s a deadbeat father to one of your students. Currently, you guys are on a break because he can’t stop staring at women and making advances towards them while being in a relationship.

Even though you miss Spirit deeply, you had to focus on the task at hand, which is cleaning Stein‘s laboratory. It was something you didn’t wanna do since it was always messy and gross. There’s everything from dissected animals to random beakers filled with some serious liquids, Petri dishes that are filled with mold, and other gross things. Nobody would want to touch it besides Stein because he’s somewhat of a weirdo, but his weirdness was always very attractive to you. You notice this behavior a lot when you guys were dating at first it was small stuff like being obsessed with bodies and how they work all the way, dissecting them and showing you each in our part and smiling like a kid in the candy store after he did it. You freaked out nonetheless, but in the back of your head weirdly, you felt safe even though he was cutting up and dissecting anything he could find.

Stein was obsessed with you to say the least even after your break up. He knew how good of a weapon you were and he always loved you no matter what. In his mind, you were precious, more precious than anything he has ever experienced. So when he heard you were coming back to the academy to help out and practically be his partner in crime again, he was ecstatic, but didn’t let anybody know. It was something that he kept himself. He had heard rumors that you were with in a tumultuous relationship with Spirit. He wasn’t surprised by this because he knew how immature spirit could be and the fact that he’s not very smart sometimes. He knew you liked men who were intelligent. He knew that you also needed someone that could keep up with you and Spirit wasn’t that type of guy.

As you finish tidying up the lab, Stein approaches you with a look of calculated intensity in his eyes. You feel your heart race, both from the excitement of his proximity and the nervousness of what he might say or do next. He leans against the lab table, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze never leaving yours. "You've been seeing Spirit again, haven't you?" His voice is calm, almost conversational, but there's an underlying tension that makes your skin prickle. You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to respond. "Yes," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "But it's not serious—"

"Not serious?" Stein interrupts, his tone sharpening. "He doesn't deserve you. You know that, right?" You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words. "I... I don't know what to do anymore." Stein steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "Maybe it's time you let me remind you of how you should be treated," he says softly, his fingers trailing down your arm. The touch sends shivers through your body, a mix of desire and dread. You take a step back, but Stein follows, closing the distance between you. "Stein, what are you doing?" you ask, your voice trembling. "What do you think I'm doing?" he replies, his eyes darkening with lust. "I'm giving you what Spirit could never do”

Before you can respond, he grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him. His lips crash against yours, hard and demanding. You struggle for a moment, but the familiar taste and feel of him overwhelms you, and you find yourself kissing him back, your senses drowning in the intensity of the moment. Stein breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. "Get on your knees," he commands, his voice low and rough. You hesitate, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. But the memory of their past together, the explosive chemistry, pulls you forward. You drop to your knees, your hands resting on his thighs as you look up at him.

Stein undoes his pants, releasing himself. His cock is already hard, throbbing with need. "Suck it," he orders, his voice dripping with dominance. You open your mouth, taking him in slowly, savoring the feel of his length against your tongue. Stein groans, his hand moving to grip your hair tightly. "That's it," he whispers, guiding you deeper onto his cock. Your head moves in rhythm, your mouth working eagerly around him. You hear the faint sound of his pulse in his throat, matching the beat of your own racing heart. The smell of his arousal fills your nostrils, mingling with the scent of antiseptic and old books that always permeate the lab.

Stein's grip tightens, and he forces you to take more of him, pushing your limits. You gag slightly, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. But the degradation only heightens your arousal, the pain mixing with pleasure in a way that makes your body tremble. "Good girl," Stein murmurs, his voice strained. "You love this, don't you? Being my little toy. Just like Old times.” You nod, unable to speak around his cock. Your pussy clenches in response, wet and aching for more. Stein pulls out suddenly, making you whimper in protest. Stein looked down at you seeing your tears stream down your face painting your plump cheeks. This is something he always liked about you but always kept to himself since he didn’t want to be seen as more weird than he already was. This is a secret. He kept deep inside his conscience, that he loves when he gives you enough pain and pleasure to the point you start shedding tears he adored it. It was like a second drug to him and told him that he was doing well. "On the table," he commands, pointing to the lab bench.

You scramble to obey, lying down on the cold surface. Stein follows, positioning himself between your legs. He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head. "Aren't you a pretty little thing," he says, his voice dripping with disdain. You feel a sharp sting as he slaps your thigh, the pain making you gasp. "Beg for it," he demands. "Please, Stein," you whisper, your voice breaking. "Please fuck me." He smirks, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's more like it."

Stein lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock. You arch your back, desperate for him to fill you. Finally, he thrusts inside, hard and deep. The initial pain gives way to exquisite pleasure, your bodies syncing together in a dance as old as time. Stein pounds into you with ruthless efficiency, his hips slamming against yours with each thrust. You moan loudly, the sound echoing off the walls of the lab.

"You're mine," Stein growls, punctuating each word with a particularly hard thrust. "No one else will ever have you like this, especially that idiot Spirit.”You cry out, your orgasm building rapidly. The combination of his harsh words and brutal fucking pushes you to the edge. Stein's fingers dug into your hips, his grip unyielding as he thrust into you with a relentless fervor. The lab was dimly lit, the soft glow of the fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the room. The sound of your labored breathing and his grunts filled the air, mingling with the muted hum of the laboratory equipment.

You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his skin felt rough and slightly damp against your own. Your skirt had long since been discarded, tossed aside in the chaos of the moment. You could feel the cool surface of the lab table beneath your back, the metal cold against your exposed skin. "Look at you," Stein murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "Such a good girl. Your eyes were blurry with tears, your vision clouded by the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. You could taste the saltiness of your own tears on your lips, the metallic tang mixing with the desperate need that was building inside of you.

Stein leaned down, capturing one of your nipples between his teeth. He bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp, before soothing the sting with his tongue. His other hand moved lower, his fingers teasing at your clit, slick with your combined arousal. "Please," you whimpered, your voice breaking. "Don't stop..." He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I won't stop. Not until I've had my fill of you."

His thrusts grew more frantic, his pace erratic as he chased his own release. You could feel him hitting deeper, harder, each stroke making it harder to keep your composure. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red marks in their wake as you clung to him, your body shuddering with each thrust. "I hate you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I hate you so much..."But even as you said the words, you knew they weren't true. There was a part of you that still craved this, that needed this connection with him. It was twisted, wrong, but it was undeniable. Stein's hand moved to your throat, his thumb pressing against your pulse point as he watched your face contort with pleasure and pain. "Tell me how much you love it," he demanded, his voice harsh. "Tell me how much you missed this."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, embarrassed. You had missed this type of pleasure. You hadn’t had anything like this since y’all dated every time you were intimate with spirit it was never really good so what’s Stein all the emotions started running back but you didn’t want to tell him you knew boost his ego, but on the other hand, begging for him was kind of hot. He pinched your nipple, hard, the pain sharp and immediate. "Tell me," he repeated, his tone brooking waiting for an actor "I... I missed it," you gasped, your voice barely audible. "I missed you..." His smile was almost feral, triumphant. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand moving back to your center. He pressed two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot. "Now come for me. Make those pretty tears fall."

The sensation was too much, too intense. Your body convulsed around his fingers, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cried out, your voice high and desperate as you came apart in his arms. Stein didn't stop, didn't slow down. If anything, he pushed you harder, his thrusts powerful and unrelenting. He was close, you could tell, his breath hitching as he neared his climax. "That's it, baby girl," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Scream for me darling I know you want to ."

Your scream echoed through the lab, the sound raw and primal. Your body trembled beneath him, your muscles clenched tight around his cock as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. Stein finally let out a groan, his own release washing over him. He shuddered above you, his thrusts growing shallow as he spilled inside you. For a moment, everything was still, the only sound the heavy rhythm of your heartbeats. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, his cock slipping free with a final, wet sound. He stood up, adjusting himself as he looked down at you with a satisfied smirk.

"That's what you needed, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of cruelty. "Something rough and pleasurable, something real.”You couldn't answer, your voice lost in the haze of post-orgasmic bliss. You could only lay there, your body tingling from the aftershocks of your climax, your mind reeling from the intensity of the encounter. Stein reached down, his fingers brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to your sweat-slicked forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up princess I’ll let you get some rest.” Stein scoops you up wrapping his white lab coat before heading upstairs so you can get some rest.

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writingsfromhome · 9 months ago

Text

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

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#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #dos and donts #ahhh #i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once #so ignore any errors #hope this is fun to read #it was fun to write

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