#i had kept those thoughts in check so well!!!!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
acourtofthought · 22 hours ago
Note
Did you catch the latest podcast with Steph and Ava? They absolutely crack me up! The biggest takeaway for me? They both agree that Azriel's book is next. Meanwhile, the Elriels are being suspiciously quiet about it. But hey, a clickbait piece or song by Taylor somehow holds more weight, right? 😂
Sure, Steph and Ava could be wrong, but let’s be real—neither of them is losing their minds over some random “articles” or Taylor Swift lyrics. They actually know SJM personally. I mean, whether we like it or not, they have a better insight into her than any of us do. What do you think?
I definitely think they're a lot of fun together and I agree, in terms of credible news sources I would think if there's any insider knowledge to be had, it would be Steph over a random ScreenRant journalist. That her statement "not everything is meant to be taken romantically" was possibly a message to e/riels because of how they read into everything but beyond that I am a bit divided on what Steph and Ava actually know or, what they know versus what they're saying.
To me it means something that Steph was all on the E/riel train even when she and Sarah spoke about the Az bonus chapter, where Sarah told her she was excited for her to read the crumbs she scattered. Then later, they had done an IG Live where it still seemed Steph thought E/riel was a possibility and Sarah's face seemed to fall a bit but just a short time later Steph no longer though E/riel was happening. Something like that does make me wonder if Sarah told Steph that E/riel wasn't going to be a thing because there was a noticeable shift between Lives in who she thought was ending up together.
In terms of them knowing who the next book is about, I'm not sure whether they have insider knowledge. Since Sarah kept the HOFAS crossover a secret from even Josh, it's possible she's also keeping the main pairing of the next book a secret to those around her as well. Steph and Ava do think Az is next but Steph also mentioned she felt HOFAS was needed in order to build Az up to have his own book and that seems a bit odd to me. An ACOTAR series character should not need an entirely different series in order to set him up for his own book since not every ACOTAR reader will read CC. So what happens for those readers, they buy the next ACOTAR book completely confused as to where Az's story came from when they left off with SF? What if those readers only read the series because they were able to check out the books from their local library and they have no idea that his bonus chapter exists? I think the next story has to make sense for readers who stopped at SF and are not aware of any bonus chapters or what happened in CC because despite our immersion into this fandom I don't think the majority of readers are into all things SJM the way we are. A casual reader should not be obligated to read beyond the ACOTAR books in order to pick up the next book in the series and understand what's going on and Az processing a time traveler who took his dagger when starting the next book is a bit of a stretch for where things left off in SF. Especially when CC did not actually leave us with any new and immediate threats for them to deal with. Where we left off in SF was the peace treaty, Koschei, Beron and Spring as immediate concerns (they didn't sound like things that could wait another 6-9 months so Az can first deal with his stuff) and Emerie joked the Illyrians would be in hysterics for decades (an Az storyline) meaning not an immediate concern. When the big bad starts making moves in a Sarah book, things move pretty quickly from there on out. I.e. We learned of Hyberns plans in January and the war occurred in August. I think the TOG series occurred over a year. In SF, we learned of Koschei and the Trove in September / October and SF ended in April. So I'm not sure it makes sense to have an Az book (my guess is you'd need at least 6 - 9 months for a realistic love story if he's ending up with Gwyn) then at least another 6 months for an Elain book and for us to finally see Koschei's defeat. That stretches out the Koschei / Beron plot well beyond her norm.
With that said, maybe Steph does know something but if she did, would she say it? That would be breaking the trust of Sarah and Bloomsbury. Knowing something then saying "but it's just my opinion" still kind of spills the tea if you've been forced to sign an NDA. Usually if people know secrets they avoid the topic entirely. Or maybe Steph knows something but she says the opposite to throw people off so she doesn't reveal secrets. In the podcast she also said that if Az and Elain don't end up together, she doesn't think Lucien and Elain are ending up together but that Lucien still can't have his story until Elain deals with her bond and to me that's a strange thing to say. If Elain isn't ending up with Lucien or Az then who is she sharing a book with? And how would we get an Az book, then an Elain book THEN Sarah tackles Lucien's story? How are we dividing the current plots between the three, all with three different love interests? Ava also said she couldn't remember Elain stabbing the King so again, are they just messing with us or are they just too busy with other stuff to actually dive deep into these books the same way we do? Which is completely understandable, they seem to be extremely busy with everything else they have going on, I'm just not sure how much of what they say should be written as gospel.
With all that said, I do think it's possible for Steph to know something but at the same time I'm not sure that what she's saying is her revealing the information she knows. I think it would cross a line to have insider information then share that insider information on podcasts while saying "it's just my opinion" to cover yourself.
However, she's also mentioned a few times that she tells Sarah not to spoil anything for her so I end up divided on the topic.
17 notes · View notes
creamecafe · 10 days ago
Note
hii could u write something for Dae-ho set in the mingle game and its basically just him protecting reader and always keeping them at his side. 🫶🫶🫶
"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"
Tumblr media
Summary: What the request says
Pairing: Dae-Ho x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)
Warnings: fluff, comfort, pining
Word Count:
Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
Tumblr media
It's a miracle that you have made it to the third game. You were sure you were going to die in the second game, but thanks to the team you had, you were more than determined to still stay alive
Out of all them, there was one that you kept looking at. Dae-Ho. You couldn't help but find him cute. This certainly wasn't the place to have feelings as you could die before telling him.
It was the same for Dae-Ho, trying to make sure everyone is ok and that the team survives. But it was something with you.
He felt safe with you, and wanted to protect you. Even if it meant giving his life for you.
The announcement for the third game came, you were worried, but wanted it to be over it. Dae-Ho noticed you being anxious and asked if you okay
"Are you okay?"
You stopped zoning out and looked at him with your heart pounding.
"What? Y-yes I'm ok thank you." Nodding trying to reassure yourself.
"I think this might be the last game I play in." You chuckled knowing deep inside you dreaded the idea
"Hey look at me."
You did as he said. "Don't say that, you have us."
He held out your hand to hold it. You looked at it and hesitated putting your hand out but you held it. A tight squeeze was given but not too rough. It was a sign of reassuring.
He gives you a smile and you did too not of full happiness but someone is here to care about you.
All of you guys were called for the game. You got up and stayed close to Dae-Ho. He looked back at you and nodded. You did the same.
It was the same, climbing up those colorful but dreading stairs to the next game. Every minute or two, Dae-Ho made sure you were right behind him.
You finally reached the game and saw a carousel in the middle with horses and so many doors of different bright colors for a Pre-K setting.
"Welcome to your third game." The woman's voice from the previous games you heard came on the speakers.
"The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."
Turning your head to look at Dae-Ho, he's already looking at you.
You quickly look away not to make the situation worse. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable as well.
"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."
"Oh this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging." Jung-bae exclaimed.
"Yeah. Instead of hugging, we go into those rooms" Dae-Ho mentioned.
"If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need." Gi-Hun
And if it's less than that? You thought in your mind
"But what if it's smaller than five? Like three or four
You turned your head to Dae-Ho. It's like he read your mind exactly.
"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," Young-il nods. "We'll make it out together. Here."
Those words echoing in your mind, there wasn't enough time to doubt if your group would stick with you.
You've seen how quickly people are to turn against each other especially in the Red Light, Green Light.
But you're more than determined to stay alive, just to see Dae-Ho's face every chance you get.
Young-il puts the back side of hand out to form a truce. One by one, everyone is putting their hands on top of each other. You were the last one.
"Y/N. Are you in?" Gi-Hun asks.
Dae-Ho looks at you with worry in his eyes. You had no choice and no knowledge of trusting others in this game, so you put your hand out on top.
Dae-Ho becomes relieved at this.
"One, two, three. Victory at all costs."
Sighing at this with relief, you guys begin to spread out. The carousel is starting to spin
People scream out in fear. Lights go out and the light in the middle where horses out lights ups and music plays.
Children are singing about holding hands and ringing around.
Dae-Ho holds your hand lightly. He grazes your hand with his thumb. You don't look at him, as you fear you'll die doing so.
It suddenly stops. The number is 9. People are running out frantically pairing in groups of 9. Dae-Ho doesn't let go of your hand.
"We need 3 more." You said. Your group ran looking for 3 more.
A old lady, her son and another woman goes up to you guys.
"Are you guys 3?" Young-il asks
"Yes we're." The old lady nods frantically.
"Quickly we got to get into a room" Gi Hun exclaims
Your feet were starting to move, but the grip of Dae-Ho holding your hand made you move even faster.
All of you guys rushed into a room and closed the door. The room was filled with heavy breaths. There was a click on the lock meaning that the room was closed and nobody can get in or out.
Right now, you have never been more grateful to be alive in playing a game
It wasn't long before you heard gunshots, and it was safe to assume it was those who didn't pair up or get into rooms in time.
Now that you're safe, you look at Dae-Ho and he does too.
"Is everyone ok?" Dae-Ho asks
There was a lot of yes. That answer might change throughout the game seeing how long each of us might last.
The door lock clicked and you guys were allowed to come out. There were bodies on the floors and blood splattered. "Take off your mind off those bodies or you'll be one of them" Your mind was telling yourself.
"We got this" Dae-Ho talks to you
"We do" You smiled. Don't know how many smiles it will take to keep going, but you're ready to prove his point.
The game started again and the carousel spins. You hold out to Dae-Ho's hand.
Now the number was 4. Young-il grabs Jung-Bae and goes to find two more people. That's left Gi-Hun, Jun-Hee, Dae-Ho and you left.
There was no time to waste. All four you ran to a room and locked yourself in. Gi-Hun was looking around for Young-il. You pulled him back in.
The gunshots came again. The lesser the number, the more likely people will betray each other.
How long this game will last, you don't know. All you know is that you have people here to help you. Even if it's just one person, it makes all the difference.
The doors clicked and it was time for another round. The panic and adrenaline of it all keeps coming back. But Dae-Ho is making sure you're by his side, even if he may die in the game as well.
Six the group was. Dae-Ho said you and him were going to go and find another group. Luckily you did and you managed to still be alive locked in a room.
Now it all came down to the very last game. There were less people than the game started. You wanted to finish this for once and for all. While the carousel was spinning and music playing, you place yourself in movement ready to run and holding Dae-Ho's hand.
"2" The voice said.
It felt like time was going slow once it announced the number. Everybody is rushing to get into a room. Time's running out.
You felt a hand pull you back and you fell to the ground. Dae-Ho heard your scream and saw someone trying to stop you from going into a room. Someone else was already in the room that you guys were planning to go into.
Dae-Ho could go into the room and that would already make it two. But he's made it too far to leave you.
He ran and punched the guy that pushed you. He put you back on your feet and dragged the other guy out. He slammed the door shut and the timer just came to zero. The guy on the other side begs and bangs on the door.
A pink guard shoots him and the noises stop.
"Are you ok?" Dae-Ho rushes to you.
Still shaken at what happened, at the fact you almost died if it wasn't for him to save you, you nodded.
"Yes I am. Thank you."
There was a moment of silence between you too as you were catching your breaths.
The door clicked and you both came out.
"Y/N! Dae-Ho!" Both of your names were being called
Gi-Hun, Young-il, Jung-Bae and Jun-Hee run up to you guys and you all hug each other.
"I'm so glad you guys are ok." Jun-Hee smiles
You're also relieved that everyone else is fine and made it out alive. You could return back to the dorms.
Walking down back the stairs and into the dorms, everyone was mostly silent but some talked.
You ran up and tapped Dae-Ho on the shoulder.
"Hey Dae-Ho?"
"Yes Y/N?"
"You could have gone into the room where the other guy before you dragged him out, why didn't you?"
Dae-Ho took a pause before responding.
"I have lost many people when I was a marine, seen people get killed in front of me. I can't let it happen to you."
He starts to become close to you but not too close.
"As long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure you're fine. That's a promise I tend to keep Y/N."
Those words stuck with you. You could die in the next game, but right here at this moment is a reason to keep going.
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@hobinistaworld
Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Kang Dae-Ho Masterlist | Join my taglist!
2K notes · View notes
smutoperator · 29 days ago
Text
Detention
Hong Eunchae x Male Reader
Tags: anal, bad cop, begging, daddy kink, dungeon, facial, (lots of) flogging, hole switcheroo, nipple clamps, punishment, teen, vibrator, virgin
Word count: 4020
Every time someone turns 18, they want to try something new that was once not allowed to them. It was no different for Eunchae, who had just got her driver's license.
Eunchae hopped in the car alongside her group leader, Chaewon, who would be instructing her. Both had taken a couple of drinks a few hours before as well but thought it was no big deal. However, things were about to change quickly.
Tumblr media
A cop stopped the car Eunchae was driving. "Can you please show me your license?" you asked her. Eunchae started searching her pockets but couldn't find it, growing increasingly desperate. "I-I can't find it," she said.
"Sure, I'll check your alcohol levels too," you said, handing Eunchae a breathalyzer. She was shocked as she found out she was over the legal limit, feeling she was truly screwed. The teenager started crying, but you were merciless towards her. "You're under arrest," you announced to her, dismissing Chaewon shortly after as she passed her test.
Eunchae looked scared as you drove her to jail, detaining her in an individual cell. You kept looking at her tall, young body as she walked around the cell, pondering if she would be able to get bailed out without being involved in a scandal.
"How much do I have to pay to get set free?" Eunchae asked. You, however, just ignored her, checking the paperwork of her arrest. "Come on, I know you can hear me," she said. You finally got up and handed her a few papers. "I need you to sign this," you said.
"Can you explain to me what this paperwork is about?" Eunchae kept asking. "Damn, just sign it," you say, losing your patience and exiting the room. "Please, come back; don't leave me here," Eunchae begs.
"I'll sign it," Eunchae says as you return a couple of minutes later. "Good, that's what I wanted," you tell her. "Now, can you please get me out of here?" she asks. "Yes, but first I need you to take your clothes off," you tell her.
"Why is that necessary?" Eunchae asks. "I'm the one giving the commands; you just obey them, young brat," you say. "Fine," Eunchae says as she starts to strip herself, struggling as you handcuffed her during the arrest. "This is so frustrating," she says. "COME ON, TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES, YOU FUCKING SLUT," you yell at her, getting mad.
Eunchae obeys and slowly strips herself down. "HURRY UP, YOU'RE TAKING TOO LONG," you keep screaming. "You could help and take those handcuffs off me," she says. "Nah, that's not gonna happen," you tell her. "Now, take off your panties," you tell her.
"Ok, now what?" Eunchae asks. "Put your hands right here," you tell her, indicating an opening at the cell as you take her handcuffs off, staring at her naked teen body. "Put your hands behind your back, turn around, and put your ass over here," you keep commanding. Eunchae obliges. "Now spread your fucking ass for me," you keep ordering.
You pick up a butt plug and insert it in Eunchae's virgin asshole. It takes you a while as her tight butthole doesn't budge with the pressure of the object, but you finally manage to do it. "Ok, now put your clothes back on quickly," you tell her as Eunchae follows your orders, and you cuff her hands back again but release her from jail.
"Let's go to the room; I need to ask you some questions," you say to her. Eunchae is scared, fearing you'll do something bad to her. "Don't panic; if you behave well, you'll soon be free. Just be quiet," you tell Eunchae as you grab her face and open the doors of the room. However, as soon as she is in there, Chaewon calls her, and her phone rings loudly. 
"You had one rule and managed to violate it, such a fucking brat. Now you're going to the dungeon," you tell Eunchae. As she gets into the dungeon, you strip her naked, tying her body to a table while putting a gag in her mouth. She spots the signed photos of many idols, including her fellow groupmates. Her driver's license is on your desk, making her wonder if this was a set-up all along.
"I'm gonna punish you, young brat. All you had to do was follow my rule; now you'll face the consequences for being a bad girl," you tell Eunchae, looking at her face as you carry a whip in your hands. "Do you understand me?" you ask Eunchae, giving her naked ass a couple of spankings. Eunchae nodded positively as her mouth was covered.
"I don't think you had enough discipline; now I'm gonna teach you how to be a proper adult. Do you understand me?" You ask her, giving her ass a few more spankings. Eunchae agrees, but with the gag in her mouth, the words struggle to come out. "I WANT TO HEAR IT LIKE YOU FUCKING MEAN IT," you scream at her.
"How much do you want me to spank you?" you ask Eunchae. "Say it," you continue as her words keep getting muffled. "A lot," you finally manage to hear what she said. "And what do you want me to do to you?" you keep asking. "I want you to fuck my virgin holes," she answers.
Hearing it drives you crazy. You spank Eunchae's ass multiple times. "That's what she wants, you fucking bitch, a good fucking punishment," you tell her, laying your hands all over her body. "You're such a good little girl learning a lesson and teaching you the fucking rules, do you understand?" you keep asking. "Yes," Eunchae answers. "That's what I want to hear," you say.
You bring an even larger whip to hit Eunchae. "Is that what you want? Should have followed the rules, slutty bitch," you tell her, hitting her body with multiple angles but focusing especially on her ass. "What do you say when I spank you?" you ask her. "You say, 'Thank you, Daddy," you quickly answer.
"Thank you, Daddy," Eunchae says, trying to make you hear it despite the mouth gag. "If you take your punishment well, I'll give you a present. Are you gonna behave?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy," she answers as you keep flogging her 18-year-old body, turning it red.
"I think that's good enough," you say, looking at Eunchae's body now full of your red marks. You bring a Hitachi vibrator and place it in her virgin pussy. "What do you say?" you keep asking. "Thank you, Daddy," she answers. "Louder," you say. "THANK YOU, DADDY," she screams. "Now, follow the rules and don't cum without my permission," you continue, increasing the speed of the vibrator.
Eunchae tries to resist as the vibrator heavily massages her pussy. "Don't fucking cum," you tell her, taking the gag out of her mouth as the massage only gets more intense, making Eunchae moan with the pleasure it gives her. "How does it feel?" you ask her. "It feels so good, Daddy," she answers. "How many times have you had one of those massaging your pussy?" you ask her. "A few times, Chaewon unnie has one, and sometimes I borrow it to masturbate while she's away," Eunchae answers.
You spread Eunchae's tight pussy open, making it vibrate further. She moans, trying to resist as much as possible not to cum as you pick up the speed of your moves. Some juices leak out of her teen cunt. "Let me put you right on your fucking clit," you say, spanking her as well. "Thank you, Daddy," she says. 
"I think I'm being too nice to you; what do you think?" you ask Eunchae. "I don't know," she answers. "You don't know? Well, looks like you need more discipline," you say, hitting her with a whip. "Looks like you need some cock," you say. "Yes, daddy, my virgin pussy is aching for your cock," Eunchae answers.
"Say it like you mean it," you demand of Eunchae, shoving your clothed pants in her face. "I need your cock so bad, daddy," she answers, licking it. "LOUDER, BEG FOR YOU," you demand. "I NEED YOUR FUCKING COCK DEEP IN MY VIRGIN PUSSY," she screams shortly after.
"And what are you gonna do to get it?" you ask Eunchae. "Anything you want, daddy," she answers. "Okay, there you go," you say, putting a pair of clamps on her nipples. "Perfect, now I can give you some of that cock, but you better keep begging for it," you tell her.
"Please put that cock in my pussy, please," Eunchae keeps begging. You make it as hard as possible for her, shoving your dry shaft inside her virgin cunt. "Ahhhh, oh yeah," she moans as you go very slow, amazed at how tight her teen pussy is. "Tell me how it feels," you say to her. "So fucking good, daddy," she says as you slowly pick up the speed and grab her ass.
"Oh yes, you work my pussy so good, daddy, how does it feel to you?" Eunchae asks. "It feels so fucking tight; how does my big cock feel in it?" you reply, grabbing her hair. "Amazing, keep fucking and spanking me, daddy," Eunchae begs as your thrusts get faster and faster.
"Let me take this out," you say, taking a little break and removing the butt plug you placed inside her anus some hours ago. It struggles even more to get out just like it did to get in, but once it does, you can see her perfect virgin pink asshole and enjoy how small and cute it looks.
"Tell me how much you want that cock back; beg for it," you demand of Eunchae. "Please, Daddy, put it back in my pussy," she says. "Say it again," you tell her. "Please, put your cock in me," she replies. You got much faster this time. "Thank you, Daddy; keep spanking my ass," Eunchae begs. "Are you gonna fucking start listening to me? Oh fuck," you ask, but get interrupted by a groan as Eunchae's teen walls squeeze your fat cock hard. "You like that 18-year-old pussy a lot, don't you, daddy?" she asks.
"Oh yeah," you tell Eunchae. "Now I'll make you taste it," you continue, grabbing her head and fucking her face at full speed, making Eunchae choke hard on your dick. "Open those fucking eyes," you say as your cock gets deep in her throat and you treat her face like an onahole. "What do you say?" you ask every time she gags and you spank her ass. "Thank you, Daddy," she answers. "Then open your mouth," you continue, shoving your cock further balls deep in her mouth and covering her nose.
"You want more of this fucking cock?" you ask Eunchae as you grab her hair. "Yes, please, daddy," she begs as you jerk it off. You get back at fucking her pussy from behind. "Just like that, daddy, give it to me; it feels so fucking good," she says. You keep pulling her hair as you pound her teen cunt faster and faster, her ass completely red after so much spanking. "Is that what you want, young brat?" you ask her. "Ohhhh yeah, fuck my tight little pussy," Eunchae keeps begging as she answers you.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," you keep saying as you get deeper and deeper inside Eunchae's pink pussy. "Keep going; show me how much you like that pussy," she tells you. "Don't fucking move," you say as you give her clit some rubbing and keep pumping her teen cunt. Eunchae turns into a moaning mess. "Yes, daddy, you fuck that pussy so good," she keeps saying, her perky young tits bouncing and her cheeks getting clapped as your thrusts only get more intense. "Oh yeah, daddy, use that young pussy," she says, making you grow even more animalesque, fucking her like a bull and masturbating her clit hard. 
"May I please cum?" Eunchae begs as your big hands are all over her throbbing clit. You don't answer her question, just getting more and more committed to fucking her teen pussy harder and harder before finally answering. "Yes, cum all over my cock, you slutty brat," you say.
You slow down and let Eunchae's juices coat your cock. "Taste that fucking cum," you tell her when she's finally done, turning around and shoving your creamy cock in her young face. "That's it, open that fucking mouth, show me how much you enjoy that fucking cum," you say to her. "Thank you, Daddy," she says. 
You grab Eunchae's face and spit on her. "You want more of this fucking cock?" you ask. "Yes, daddy," she quickly answers. "You want it in your fucking ass too?" you keep asking. "Yes, please," she answers. "Then beg louder," you reply.
"PLEASE, DADDY, I WANT YOU TO USE ALL MY HOLES," Eunchae screams. "Beg louder," you command as you spank her butt. "PLEASE, PUT YOUR COCK IN MY ASS," she says. "Keep saying it," you continue. "Put it in me, in my ass, please," she keeps begging.
You shove your cock in Eunchae's butthole in one go, as the butt plug spread it enough for an easy slide. "Ouch," she moans as if she were stabbed. "Oh fuck," she keeps moaning as you punish her as if she was a veteran of anal sex like her unnie Chaewon, not a young girl who to this point had only inserted bananas and butt plugs up her asshole, but never a real cock.
"You like fucking my asshole, daddy?" Eunchae asks. "Yes," you say as you spank her butt. "How about you, bitch?" you reply. She answers positively, but you can clearly tell she's struggling with such a massive cock in her tiny teen asshole, especially with the speed you fuck it. "Don't move that fucking ass; you're getting fucking punished," you say to her.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, rub that clit, please. Thank you, Daddy," Eunchae says as it gives her some relief from the fast and deep thrusts you give inside her ass. "Keep going, daddy, you play with my clit so good," she says. "Oh, fuck yes, there you go; look at that ass getting stretched out by that big fat cock," you say, picking up the speed further. "FUCK," Eunchae screams as not even your hands in her clit can make her cope with the heat your cock puts in her asshole.
Luckily for her, you have some mercy and switch back to her pussy, but that doesn't change much, as Eunchae's holes are throbbing hard now. "OH FUCK YES," she screams as your cock goes back to pumping her cunt, losing no speed as it switches holes, staying at the same relentless pace.
"Back in your fucking ass," you say to Eunchae, at this point just toying with her teen holes. "Oh god, you're such a fucking tight slut," you say to her, clapping her cheeks and grabbing her hair. "OH DADDY, IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD, THANK YOU DADDY," she screams. "Open that fucking mouth," you reply, stretching it as you fuck her. 
"Now taste your pussy and ass right there," you say, shoving your cock in her mouth one more time. "You want it back?" you soon ask. "Yes, I want it back in my holes, please," Eunchae answers. "Which hole do you want it?" you keep asking. "Anyone you want, daddy," she replies. "Give me an answer, bitch," you tell her. "I want you to keep fucking my ass," she says. "Say it again," you say. "I WANT YOU TO FUCK MY ASS, DADDY," she screams.
You give Eunchae's ass very heavy poundings. "Fuck yes, put that fucking ass up," you demand. "You like the way my asshole feels on your cock?" Eunchae asks. "Yes, it's so fucking tight, such a tasty little 18-year-old ass," you say as you spank her butt for the hundredth time.
"I want you to fucking cum like the slut you are," you tell Eunchae. "Yes sir, keep fucking my ass like that and I'll cum hard for you," she answers. "You better fucking cum on that cock or I'm gonna punish you," you say, picking up the speed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, OH FUCK," Eunchae moans as her asshole keeps getting stretched out. "Keep going; that feels so fucking good, ahhhh, yeahhh, ohhhh, thank you, daddy," Eunchae moans as you can't stop fucking her ass.
You pull out of Eunchae's ass and pick back the vibrator. "You're gonna cum all over it, do you understand?" you demand as you shove it on her pussy. "Yes, daddy," she answers. You massage her clit hard with it. "Right there," Eunchae says. "May I please cum?" she asks. "CUM," you give her a positive answer, letting her leak a lot of juices all over the table she's tied up to.
You quickly take advantage of Eunchae's weakness and shove your cock in her cunt. "Yes, please, put your cock back in my pussy," she begs. "FUCK, DADDY, I WANNA CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK, YES, YES, YES, USE MY PUSSY, USE ALL MY FUCKING HOLES, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she screams. "Yes, perfect," you say as you spank her ass and Eunchae cums all over your cock. "Keep that ass up," you continue.
Eunchae takes the little time you give her to breathe, but soon you flip her body around and start spanking her pussy. "I want you to beg again for my cock," you tell her. "I need your cock, need it in my fucking pussy so bad," she says as you put the vibrator back in her pussy. "Keep begging," you tell her. "I want your cock," she says. "It feels so good," she continues as the vibrator massages her clit. "More, you can beg better than that," you say, increasing the speed of the vibrator. "Give me your cock; I need it in my pussy, please, please, please, please," she continues, but you still ignore her pleading.
Eunchae tries to stretch her hands and jerk your cock off as she keeps begging for your cock. "Say it every time I hit you," you tell her, whipping her body. "I want your cock, I want your cock, I want your cock," she repeats countless times. "That's better," you tell her. "Is that what you want?" you ask, shoving it in her pussy. "Yes, thank you, Daddy," she answers.
You fuck Eunchae as you put the vibrator in her clit alongside it. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, ALL OVER MY CLIT," she screams. "YOU LIKE THAT, YOU FUCKING SLUT?" you ask her as you spank her face. "Yes, daddy, it feels so fucking good. Thanks for fucking me, daddy. Thanks for using my holes," she replies.
You switch back to Eunchae's ass. "Oh fuck, nice and slow," she begs, already completely wasted as the vibrator makes her clit throb further and further. "Yeah, yeah, just like that," she begs. "I want you to cum in my fucking cock again," you say to her. "Please, daddy, may I please cum all over that cock?" she begs. You spank her face. "Right there, right in my clit, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," Eunchae says.
"CUM ALL OVER IT, BITCH," you say, picking up the speed as you fuck Eunchae's ass and grabbing her waist. "Oh yeah," you say as she squirts all over your cock. But you don't stop, getting addicted to her teen holes and quickly moving to her pussy again. "OH FUCK, THAT FEELS GOOD, DADDY," Eunchae moans. "Oh yeah, sure it does," you say to her. You now just toy with her holes, switching from pussy to ass from time to time while hitting her face and her tits, treating Eunchae like a fucktoy as you choke her. "Don't get loud, you bratty bitch," you say, rubbing her clit hard and spanking her whole body with that whip.
"Thank you, Daddy, for using me like that," Eunchae says. You fuck her pussy hard, enjoying your cock bulge under her young belly. Then you switch to her ass and choke her harder than ever. The switcheroo keeps going, Eunchae's whole body getting redder and redder, her rolling her eyes and struggling to breathe as you grab her neck with full force and rub her clit. "Please, daddy, rub my fucking little clit; you're gonna make me cum again," Eunchae moans as she gets completely overwhelmed by your moves in her cunt and her clit. "Fuck, just like that," she says.
"Is that what you fucking want?" you ask Eunchae. "Yes, daddy, but I want your cum too," Eunchae answers. "Then beg for my cum," you reply, spanking her face and keeping your fingers all over her clit, playing a lot with it. You spank her pussy and switch back to her ass, fucking it as hard as possible while you choke her. "I want you to make me cum with that fucking ass," you tell Eunchae as you pump it hard, her struggling hard as you have fucked her for nearly half an hour at this point. "You like that fat pussy too?" she asks as you pinch her clit while fucking her ass. "I like you shutting your fucking mouth, you bratty slut," you answer her.
Ass to pussy, pussy to ass, you keep switching, much to Eunchae's enjoyment. "Use my holes, Daddy; pick whatever you want," she begs as you fuck both of them really hard. Her face is now completely red from all the spanking and choking. "I want your cum," Eunchae begs. "Look at this bitch showing her true colors," you say.
"I want your cum all over my face," Eunchae begs as she gets choked and pounded. "Use my holes, use my fucking pussy, use them for your pleasure," she keeps begging. "Open your mouth wider; show me how much you want that cum," you command. But then Eunchae says the words that finally push you over the edge.
"I want you to cum all over my pretty little 18-year-old face," she says. As soon as you hear it, you pull your cock out of her cunt and ejaculate all over her face, covering her full of sperm like a good teen slut. Eunchae sticks her tongue out as she gets glazed, getting herself full of cum from her hair to her chin, kissing your cock as she thanks you for one final time. "Are you gonna start following the rules now?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy," she replies as you slap your cock in her face.
"You're free now," you say to Eunchae. "Thank you, Daddy," Eunchae says. But as soon as she is ready to get out of the dungeon, another girl arrives and catches both of you.
"Looks like she had a lot of fun," Chaewon says as she looks at Eunchae's face completely covered with your semen. "Sure she did," you tell her.
"Let me see how she tastes, hmmmm, delicious," Chaewon says, putting her mouth on your cock and tasting it as it's still full of your cum and Eunchae's juices. "You know, I think we should give her some extra training," she continues.
"Like what?" you ask.
"Let her learn some new positions and turn her into a proper slut," Chaewon says. "Are you ready, Manchae?" she asks her.
"Yes, unnie," Eunchae answers.
"Then sit your ass on his cock," Chaewon commands, and Eunchae obliges, following her unnie's instructions. "Lock her legs; let's see if this slut can take a full nelson," Chaewon instructs you.
"Oh fuck," Eunchae screams as soon as she's completely immobilized. "AHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she starts screaming as you resume pounding her ass under Chaewon's watch.
"Let me make this a little harder," Chaewon says, getting out of both your sights as she switches clothes while you keep fucking Eunchae, returning with a strap-on attached to her waist.
"Let's see if she can take this in her pussy too," the naughty unnie says.
"FUCKKKKKKKK," Eunchae screams, and her second round at the dungeon is just beginning.
1K notes · View notes
jezebelblues · 3 months ago
Text
𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 | 𝐇.𝐒 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋
ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬—𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭, 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲.
𝐂𝐖: smut18+ fingering, penetration (p in v), a smidge of spanking, mommy issues, 2016!harry, angst, i guess. all in upper case if that gets u goin. fem!reader, unedited cause i fell asleep writing this. gn. mwah :*
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 17k
❏ burning hill by mitski teehee !! was the main inspo for this
not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.
masterlist
Tumblr media
It’s been fifteen months since the group announced their hiatus.
Phone calls became scarce, and so many words were left unspoken, drifting into that space where they might never find their way back. For the first time in years, he felt free—untethered from the rhythm of living intertwined with three other lives. At first, the quiet felt unbearable, like the silence after the crowd fades and the lights go down. But slowly, the loneliness began to feel like home. A strange sort of comfort in the quiet. He found a semblance of privacy—at least a bit more than he had in the band.
Harry felt that, since the hiatus, the fans had grown older with him, their wide-eyed fascination dulled by time and reality. There were fewer frantic moments, fewer desperate hands pulling at him. Now, on a good day, he could stroll through his hometown, maybe get stopped for a polite photo. Occasionally, there were still shadows trailing him—paparazzi or a fan trying to be invisible but failing, always just out of reach. He didn’t like it, not really, but he’d learned to live with it. It’s what came with the territory, a price he thought he’d long accepted.
But it was the writing that kept him grounded. Kept him real. The one thing that still felt like his own. His debut album was close to finished now, though the mixing, the rewrites, the constant tweaking—it never felt like enough. There was this tightness inside him, a knot of anxiety that refused to unravel. Would anyone like Harry styles, the solo artist? Or would they always only care about Harry, the boy in the band?
He wasn’t ungrateful, not for a second. But deep down, he craved something more. He needed the space to finally figure out what he wanted, to break free, to become something else entirely. Something new.
It’s been eight months since he met YN.
It was happenstance, through his manager—though sometimes Harry liked to imagine it was fate. It was one of those coincidences that felt too deliberate to be real, like something out of a half-finished song. She was Jeff’s goddaughter, on the periphery of his world, but until then, she’d been just another name mentioned in passing.
YN started her internship at the recording studio in the beginning of April of this year. She moved to New York with a close friend shortly after her twenty first birthday, saving up for what felt like forever, and Jeffery instantly had the idea of corroborating with the studio about an internship. He knew of her uncertainty about the future. He knew about the interest in music YN had, and he wanted to give her a chance.
Jeff had told her it was a paid internship, though it really wasn’t. He was the one who was paying her through check, under the guise of the studio. She would freak if she found out, turning it all down—Jeff knew that all too well.
Her first month was moreso about passing time. She’d work on any logistics, learning about the soundboard and how it worked hand in hand with the recording aspect, not to mention the process of remastering, mixing, finalizing. Harry was in and out those first three weeks, still finishing up a few interviews and whatnot. YN talked to him a few times when he’d pop in before taking off again, he was sweet. Still, she needed something to do until he was finally able to settle down to focus on one of the last stretches of the album—and giving her busywork was just that.
She wasn’t supposed to be at the office that day in May, but Jeff made her come along before they would continue their constant work at the drawing table, in the booth. It was the day he decided to cut his hair—and there she was, sitting quietly on the edge of the room, trying not to be seen, caught up in the swirl of conversations she didn’t quite belong to yet. There was something about her, something he couldn’t put his finger on. The way she observed everything, but didn’t feel the need to make herself known. A quiet confidence, maybe, or just a complete lack of pretense.
When she offered to help with the cut, everyone laughed, but he said yes. He didn’t know why, maybe because she didn’t treat it like this big, defining moment. The whole world was making such a fuss about his hair, like that was all he was, all he’d ever be. But YN? She just smiled, grabbed the scissors, and got to work. No ceremony, no theatrics—just a few careful snips, and suddenly he was lighter, like he could breathe again.
Afterward, they’d joked about how she should switch careers. But she’d only smiled that same quiet smile and said she was more interested in being on the other side of music. She was learning everything she could. At first, she was just there, hovering at the edge of things. But before long, she was everywhere. Quietly slipping into conversations, offering up ideas that stuck with him long after she’d left the room.
She wasn’t like the people he usually worked with. She wasn’t starry-eyed, wasn’t afraid of him or the idea of him. YN spoke to the brunette like he was just a guy making music, figuring things out. And maybe that’s what drew him in, slowly at first, then all at once. She didn’t see Harry Styles, the soloist. She saw Harry—the restless, uncertain man who wasn’t sure if he was running from his past or trying to carve out a future. He was human, an equal, not an enigma.
He caught himself thinking about her more than he should, replaying their conversations in his head when he was alone in his flat, the silence pressing in around him. She had this way of getting under his skin without even trying, making him wonder if he’d been doing everything wrong up until now. Or maybe, just maybe, she was the first person to make him feel like he didn’t need to have all the answers.
There was something magnetic about her, a pull he couldn’t quite shake. He’d see her in the studio, headphones on, scribbling notes on a track they’d been working on, her brow furrowed in concentration. She cared about the music, really cared, and he respected that more than he could say. In the rare moments she’d look up and catch him watching, she’d smile—soft and unassuming, as if she wasn’t at the center of this storm he was slowly getting lost in.
He’d thought about it, late at night when the studio was empty, and all he had were his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if it was the music that kept him coming back, or if it was something else entirely.
But the truth was, ever since she walked into his life, the world didn’t feel as heavy. It didn’t feel so lonely anymore.
YN had a quiet way of carrying herself, something light and untouchable, like she’d mastered the art of being present without ever fully giving herself away. It was part of what made her so magnetic, Harry thought, but it also kept her at arm’s length—just out of reach. The more time he spent with her, the more he sensed there were pieces of her story she wasn’t ready to share, things she held onto with a grip so tight, it almost hurt to watch.
Her father had been older when she was born, older than Jeff was, at least—a man who had already been through his share of mistakes and regrets by the time he met Jeffery in college. YN’s dad had been trying to start over, to build something solid for himself after years of wandering. They clicked right away—two guys who didn’t have much in common on the surface, but who understood each other in the ways that mattered. Jeff was young, still wide-eyed and ambitious, while YN’s father had lived a little longer, seen more of the mess the world had to offer. They bonded over that, and when YN was born, Jeff had been right there, practically family.
YN’s mother had left when she was just a baby. No warning, no messy custody battle, just gone. Her dad was the moon, always there—faintly during the day when he worked, but always present by night. Her mother was a solar eclipse, popping up in certain areas every now and then, but never staying. Maybe she’d call and wish her a belated happy birthday, or send a card for Christmas that year. She was always fleeting. And YN thought herself the stars, always there, always ever connected to the two despite time and space.
So, her father had raised her on his own, doing his best with what little he had. Jeff had been named godfather not long after her birth, and though he didn’t say much about it, YN knew he’d always carried a quiet kind of guilt. Like maybe if he’d been around more, her life might’ve been different. She never blamed him, of course—she adored Jeff, looked at him like he was some kind of anchor in her life, a second father figure, someone she could always count on. But there was no denying that a part of her had been shaped by absence, by the cold reality of her mother’s abandonment.
She didn’t talk about her mother much. When they’d first started getting to know each other, Harry had asked her once—offhandedly, without thinking—and the way her expression shifted, the way her walls shot up so quickly, he knew not to push. He’d seen it before, in himself, the instinct to hide away when the past felt too close.
Harry didn’t know much about her. They hadn’t talked about personal things, not really. Her past wasn’t something she talked about, not with anyone, and especially not with people like Harry—people who had the world’s attention, people who might think she was just another girl with a tragic backstory. But he knew she was Jeff’s goddaughter, that she was interning at the studio, trying to figure out if music was the career she wanted. He knew her favorite artist and color, knew her favorite subject in school and her best friend’s name—Marisol. He knew she preferred sunsets over sunrises, mountains and forests over beaches. But it felt superficial, barely scraping the surface. He wanted to know more. She seemed talented, driven, but there was something else—something in the way she held herself back.
There were moments when he’d catch her smile, but it was always soft, fleeting. Like she was offering a glimpse of something deeper but never letting him get too close. It intrigued him, the way she could be so kind yet so guarded, as if she’d learned not to give too much away. It was a look he recognized, one he saw in himself sometimes, when the weight of expectations and the uncertainty of his solo career pressed too heavily on his shoulders. But with YN, it felt different. It felt like something that had been there long before she ever stepped into the studio.
Moving to New York had been her way of starting over. She’d wanted to escape the weight of her past, to carve out a life that was her own. Jeff had given her that opportunity, and even though she hadn’t been sure it was what she wanted at first, she found herself falling into the rhythm of it. The work was hard sometimes, but it felt good, like maybe she was finally building something of her own. But even here, in this new city with new faces, YN still felt that familiar pull—the instinct to keep her distance, to protect herself from getting too attached.
He wasn’t sure she’d let him in, anyway. YN was like that—careful, cautious. Maybe she always would be.
In June, a little over two months since YN started working in the studio, she and Harry had formed an easy, steadying friendship. YN wasn’t like most people in his world. She understood his music in a way that felt rare—intimately, deeply, as if she could feel the weight of each word before he even sang it. It touched him more than he could admit.
But as much as he was drawn to her, Harry could sense the distance she kept between them. It wasn’t obvious, not in a way anyone else would notice, but there was a part of YN that stayed hidden. She had a warmth to her—she was kind, smart, and always knew exactly what to say when he asked for her help. But when it came to the deeper parts of herself, the parts Harry desperately wanted to know, she stayed locked away. He saw it in the way she smiled when something hit too close to home, or the way she never let conversations stray too far from the task at hand. It was as though she’d built an invisible wall around herself, and no one—not even him—was allowed through.
But he knew better than to push. For now, their connection revolved around the music.
Sometime in early June, they were hunched over in their usual studio chairs, working on the final track of his debut album. The song had taken weeks to perfect, but they were close now—closer than they had been. From the Dining Table was raw, achingly personal and YN, somehow, had helped him shape it into something even more honest than it had started.
“What if you lean into the third verse more?” She suggested, her pen tapping the page thoughtfully. "The emotion's there, but it's like you're not letting yourself feel it fully. Especially in that second verse–maybe one day you’ll me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too. You're pulling back right when you should lean into it."
Harry stopped playing with the strings on his guitar and looked up at her, brow furrowed. "What do y’mean?"
She hummed, biting her lip as she considered the words, her fingers brushing the edge of the paper. “Maybe drop the keys lower in the last chorus..” She trailed off, lost in her own thought process. She shifted in her chair, leaning forward slightly as she studied the lyrics. "It's heavy, but it could be even more vulnerable. You're singing about something really personal here, about the kind of loneliness that feels like it's eating you alive. But in the melody, it feels..safe. I think you need to make the vocals feel a bit more broken, like you're barely holding it together. Let the silence in the song do some of the work. Think about pulling back on the production, too–keep it more stripped down.” She laughed lightly, a bit sheepish. “If that makes sense.”
Harry nodded slowly, the words hanging in the air between them. She got it. She always got it. The lyrics had been twisting inside him for weeks, and it was YN’s careful guidance that had finally helped him pull them into something real, something tangible. He picked up his guitar, adjusting the chords she mentioned, and played the verse again. The notes hung heavier in the air this time, more space, more quiet.
“There.” YN murmured. “That’s what it needed—the space between the words, the silence. That's where the emotion is."
For the next few hours, they went back and forth, fine-tuning the melody and adjusting the lyrics. YN suggested cutting down the instrumentation, making it feel more intimate, like a conversation Harry was having with himself. And as the song started to take shape, Harry felt a weight lifting. It’s what he wanted for the song, it deserved this rawness, this vulnerability.
Over the next two weeks, they worked tirelessly on the track, tweaking the lyrics, adjusting the production. YN had suggested subtle changes in the arrangement—adding faint background harmonies, letting the piano take the lead in certain sections. It was her idea to introduce a low hum in the final chorus, something atmospheric that made the song feel like it was dissolving into the empty spaces of the room. Harry trusted her instincts completely by now, her intelligence and understanding of the music so sharp that he barely needed to question her advice. She had a way of knowing what the song needed, even when he couldn’t see it himself.
By the time they reached the last day of recording that track, the song had transformed into something that felt like a piece of his soul, laid bare for the world to hear. It was time to play it for the team, to record the final version that would make it onto the album. She didn’t hear it in its entirety yet, only the parts Harry would reveal that he wanted insight on.
The band was ready, gathered behind their instruments, and the rest of the team sat in the control room, waiting to hear what he had spent weeks perfecting. The studio felt heavier than usual, the air thick with anticipation. Harry glanced over at YN, who was standing by the glass that separated the studio from the control room, her arms crossed loosely in front of her. She was watching him, as she always did, but there was something different in her eyes tonight. He couldn’t place it—something softer, more vulnerable than usual.
Harry picked up his guitar, gave the band a nod, and stepped up to the mic. The first notes echoed through the room, soft and haunting. His voice followed, low and steady, each lyric pouring out an isolation he had written into the song, each verse dripping in melancholy. The room around him seemed to blur, and for a moment, it was just him, the music, and the truth of what he was singing.
“Maybe one day you’ll call me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too.”
His voice cracked slightly on the word sorry, just as it had in practice. But this time, it felt different. More real. More final.
As the song continued, Harry’s gaze flickered over to YN. She was still standing by the glass, but something had changed. Her arms had fallen to her sides, and her eyes were fixed on him, wide and shimmering with unshed tears. It was subtle at first—a quick blink, a shift of her expression—but then he saw it. A tear slipped down her cheek, and YN quickly brushed it away, trying to hide the emotion that was overtaking her.
But she couldn’t. Not this time.
By the time the song ended, the room was filled with the soft, fading echoes of the final notes. Harry stood still, the guitar resting against his chest, his breath uneven. He watched as YN slowly stepped forward, closer to the glass, her eyes still glistening. She rested her hand gently on the pane, the only thing separating them, and gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod.
It was all he needed. That nod, that single moment of unspoken approval, meant more than words ever could. She understood—she always had. But seeing her moved by the song, seeing the tears she tried so hard to hide, told Harry more about her than she’d ever let on.
For the first time, Harry felt like he had reached her core, even if just for a second. And as the team buzzed with quiet admiration for the track, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from YN. Because in that small, fragile moment, she had let her walls down. Just enough.
And Harry realized, standing there with the music still humming through his veins, that maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt something more between them. Maybe YN wasn’t as unreachable as he had once thought.
July had seemed to’ve breeze past, almost gone in a daze. It was Friday, and there would only be two more Fridays left till they would have to flip the colander pages to August. The heat of the day still mingled in the air as the studio settled into its usual weekend quiet. The crew had all left for the night, tired but satisfied after wrapping another long day of recording. The album was nearing completion, and the tension that had built up over the past few months was finally starting to lift. Harry could feel it—the sense of relief, of something monumental coming to an end—but there was still so much hanging in the air between him and YN, at least that’s what he felt.
They were alone in the lounge now, the soft glow of the low lights casting faded shadows on the walls. YN sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she sipped from a recently topped-off flute of champagne, her eyes tired but content. They had opened the bottle to celebrate finishing another track, Two Ghosts. YN wasn’t there when the production first started for this song, only there for the finalized remastering of it that finished today—and she had insisted he must celebrate, the fizzy sweetness a small reward for everything he’s been pouring into the album.
"Cheers!” Harry had laughed, clinking his glass against hers with a lopsided grin. "One more down."
He didn’t quite remember what glass he was on, but he could feel the familiar buzz of being tipsy, like he could float. Besides the lounge, the rest of the building was dark, only light seeping through was from the city outside. Harry leaned back against the arm of the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, the remnants of his drink swirling lazily in his glass. He felt relaxed—more relaxed than he had in weeks. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the fact that they were finally nearing the end of the album. But it wasn't just that. It was YN, too.
And god, she looked gorgeous.
She dressed down for the day, knowing it was Friday and she could fall into bed as soon as she got home. A hoodie hung loosely over her frame, the pair of lounge shorts coming a little bit above her mid thigh. The alcohol seemed to give her eyes more of a sparkle, her skin flush—Harry wondered if alcohol could make him look as pretty as she, but he ended up on the conclusion of probably not.
“I know I said this already.” She giggled, taking a sip of the bubbly. Her smile was hazy, eyes clouded over. “But the song sounds great.” She enthusiastically sent him a thumbs up, the bottom of his feet against the bend of her knees as his legs remained sprawled out over the couch. The curly haired boy already asked if he should move to give her more space, but her dismissal was a shouted, pleading whine of no, stay! “You should be famous or something.” She sent him a wink, and he couldn’t stifle the laughter that escaped him from how slow and exaggerated she’d done it.
The lightness in the air was contagious, and they both seemed to be floating, untethered and free from the usual tension. He rested his temple against the back cushion of the sofa, his lazy grin seemingly impossible to wipe off. “Dunno, sounds like a lot of work. Maybe I’ll jus’ start a bakery instead.” He shrugged, taking a swig of what was left in the flute after parting ways between his head and the cushion beside him. “Styles’ Pies, what d’you think?”
YN snorted, nearly spilling her champagne as she pictured it. “You? In a bakery? I don’t even think you can make toast without burning it.”
Harry’s eyes widened in mock offense. “Hey, m’great in the kitchen. You’ve just never seen me in action.”
“Oh really?” YN arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. She set her glass down on the table, waving her hand as if conducting an imaginary cooking show. “Alright, Chef Styles, what’s your signature dish? Burnt toast with a side of undercooked eggs?”
He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I? That was one time!”
“Ah-ha!” She teased, biting her lip to hold back another laugh. “You know, they might not even let you into the bakery with that track record. Health code violations, and all.”
“Oh, come on!” Harry huffed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll have you know, I’m actually a master at making..” He paused, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Pancakes.”
YN burst into laughter again, this time nearly doubling over, gently clasping her fingers around his ankles for support. “Pancakes? Oh god, I bet you’d flip them right onto the floor.”
“Oi, that’s not true!” Harry was laughing now too, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the easy back-and-forth. YN had placed her hands back into her lap after grabbing her glass again, legs still tucked underneath her. “I’ve got skills. Just wait. I’ll cook f’you one day, and you’ll be begging for more. You’ll never want to leave m’kitchen.”
She wiped away a tear from her drunken laughter, a banter that probably would not be as entertaining if she was sober. “We’ll see about that. I’ll be your taste tester—but don’t be mad if I spit it out.”
“Oh, y’ruthless tonight, huh?” He nudged her playfully with his foot, legs still draped along the sofa. “Well, if pancakes don’t win y’over, I’ll just serenade you with some of m’songs. You won’t stand a chance.”
YN’s laughter turned into a snort as she brought the flute to her lips, taking another sip before grinning at him. “Woo me with your guitar? Play a little ditty about burnt toast?”
Harry leaned forward, dramatically mimicking strumming an invisible guitar, his expression serious as he sang, “Maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two..”
YN feigned a cringe, holding her ands out in front of her as if to block the very sight of him. The tune was cute, but she would never admit that. Harry could barely keep it together as he leaned back against the sofa’s arm, rolling his eyes as she finally lowered her hands. “And I’ll have you know I worked n’a bakery in Holmes Chapel, favorite employee, too.”
“My god, aren’t you a prodigy?” She smiled, tilting her head to the side as if pretending to be bashful. “Singer, songwriter, baker of the month.”
“Y’damn right.”He tipped an imaginary hat on his head, “I contain multitudes.” He winked, a better one that YN had sent earlier, his grin wide and a little bit tipsy.
They sat in the comfortable silence that followed, both of them still chuckling under their breath, the champagne buzzing through their veins like a soft lullaby. Harry glanced over at YN, her face flushed from laughter, her body relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen before. She looked free. Happy. And it did something to his chest, a tug he couldn’t ignore.
“Hey.” he said softly, stretching his ankle ever so slightly to gently nudge her knee with his foot. “Y’having fun?”
She nodded, her smile softening as she glanced at him. “Yeah. I am.” Her voice was quieter now, the playful energy of a moment ago still lingering, but with something else creeping in. Something softer, more intimate.
Harry smiled back, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did around her. “Good, m’glad.”
There was a beat of silence before she spoke again, her words coming out slower, as if she was trying to steady herself. “You’re..not what I expected.”
Harry tilted his head, a curious smirk tugging at his lips. “What’d y’expect?”
She hummed, “Don’t know.” She said with a shrug, her fingers tracing absentminded circles on the cushion. “Someone a little more, I don’t know–untouchable? Like, y’know, the harry styles,’ the big deal. But you’re just harry styles, my friend.”
He laughed softly, playing with the hem of his bright pink shorts. “Jus’ me, huh? Guess that’s not s’bad.”
“It’s not.” She smiled, her eyes locking with his, and for a moment, something passed between them. Something heavier, like an acknowledgment of everything unspoken.
Harry shifted, suddenly aware of how close they had gotten during her revelation. His hand, which had been resting on her knee, slid a little higher, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her thigh. The playful banter was still there, but it was quieter now, replaced by a tension that neither of them could deny any longer.
“Y’know.”she said, breaking the silence with a small smile. “I still don’t believe you can make pancakes.”
His eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something deeper as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe I should make you breakfast tomorrow morning then.”
YN’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening at his words, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Harry’s lips were on hers. She instantly melted into it, as if an instinct. However, after a beat, the palm of her hand pressed against his shoulder. Their lips slowly separated, strings of saliva snapping at the middle from their mutual departure. Her breath rose and fell rapidly, a small smile on her lips. “How are you gonna make pancakes at the st–.”
Harry had cut her off with a groan, but it was humorous, mixed with his giggles. “Y’stopped that t’get technical?”
YN shrugged before pulling him back into the kiss, unwavering, still. It was tentative for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to push away again, but she didn’t. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, lips in sync as she deepened their kiss.
The taste of the fruity champagne lingered between them, intoxicating and heady. It grew hungrier, more desperate as if months of unresolved tension had finally snapped. YN’s tongue found itself swiping a soft stripe against his bottom lip, a heavy sigh emerging from him as his fingers brushed along the hem of her hoodie, slipping his hands underneath, his palm resting on the warm curve of her waist.
“H–” She whispered against his lips, her voice breathy, almost a plea. But it wasn’t a plea to stop—it was a plea for more.
His name on her lips drive him mad. With a low grown, he shifted, pulling her into his lap in one fluid motion. Her legs straddled him, holding herself as close to him as she could, their kisses turning feverish. His large hands pulled her even closer—not a centimeter of space to be left. He parted his lips, a broken breath tumbling from his mouth as she started to roll her hips against his growing cock stuck underneath the hot pink shorts.
His ring clad fingers slip father up her hoodie, the coolness of the medal a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off the both of them. Harry tugged on the fabric, pulling it over her head in a rush, revealing the thin bralette underneath. “Fuck–” He mumbled, breath caressing her skin as his lips skimmed the bone of her jawline, placing a slow, tentative kiss right at her pulse point. “So beautiful.” He was drunk in the moment that was her—figuratively and literally—his voice distant and light, like a voice breaking through a daydream.
She rolled her hips harder against him as his hands slipped under the hem of her shorts, lips sloppily trailing her chest, her nose buried in his curls. A soft moan is drawn from her as Harry’s hands grip her ass, aiding her movements of dry humping his cock. His tongue grazed the fleshy part of her breast that threatened to spill out of her bra, a shuddering exhale brushing from her lips, right into his disheveled locks.
She hastily cups his chin, pulling him from her chest to messily kiss him again. She wanted to taste the faint peach on his tongue from the champagne, to feel the stubble above his lip tickling against her. They both moaned into each other’s mouths, her fingers running down his shirt, tugging at the hem. He smiles, parting from her to pull his shirt off. It was rushed, his chin getting caught in the collar which made laughter sit between them comfortably. YN gently helps him pull the shirt from his head. It was discarded somewhere on the floor, its whereabouts not a priority.
Their cheeks are flush, lips plump and vibrant as they fall into each other’s eyes—their giggles fading out and their heavy breaths replacing it. “I want you.” She whispered, her gaze trailing from his eyes, to his lips, along the markings of his torso, then back up again.
He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers with a shaky breath. “Yeah?”
She hummed, though it sounded similar to a purr—a divinely feminine melody that made him twitch under the fabric that held him from her. “Yeah.”
He gives her a quick peck before tapping her thigh and guiding her off his lap. He looks at her as his thumb slips under the waistband of both his shorts and boxers, his glance expectant of some sort of approval or denial.
Her hands reach back behind her, unclasping the bra and letting the straps fall from her shoulders; to which he took that as his go ahead. Harry bucks his hips from the couch, tugging the clothing down his legs and letting it fall onto the floor. His cock slapped against his abdomen from the sheer force of how quickly he freed himself. It was bigger than she had expected, the head a pretty pink that glistened with precum.
He didn’t give her a chance to react for herself as he pulled along her bare waist, ushering YN back onto him. He planted kisses along her breast, the hem of her shorts sitting right against his chest, his large hands holding her inches above the cock she so desperate to fill herself up with.
His tongue encircled the bud of her nipple, one hand still gripping her ass to keep her pressed against his chest, above his length—while the other fell a tad lower, his index and middle finger slipping underneath the leg of her shorts and panties, brushing along her wet folds.
She could feel his lips spread into a smirk before he began to suck on her nipple. She buried her face into his curls, grasping onto the roots as his digits sat at the entrance of her core, heat radiating from her cunt as her arousal soaked the tips of his fingers. She whimpers, wanting to grind down on them and fill her up until his knuckles sat harshly against her folds, but he held her in place—the grip on the soft part of her ass feeling rougher. He looks up at her through his eyelashes, though her face is hidden in his hair, he still revels in it. “Y’that desperate for it, hm?”
She nods against the top of his head, eyes squeezing shut. “Yes, Harry.” She whined, fingers tightly laced between his locks. “Fuck–please, I need it.”
His mouth finds its way back to her tits as he eases his thick fingers into her cunt, tauntingly slow. Her walls fluttered around him, a soft moan escaping her as he pumped his fingers in and out, the sound of her wetness was hot, filthy—the way it bounced around the room. It only made him harder knowing that no one else will know what happened here besides them.
He curls his digits into a spot that makes her hips buck harder against his chest, a yelp emitting from the top of her throat, which he takes as a moment to smack the fleshy part of her ass, it wasn’t very hard, as if he was testing the waters to try to understand what she needed. Judging from the noises she made, and how her bum seemed to push a slight wiggle into the palm of his hand, he figured she liked it.
He pumps his fingers faster, his knuckles almost pounding against her core as he sneaks the opportunity to spank her again. A string of profanities and whiny pleas fell from her, her hands falling to a grip on his shoulders as he coaxed her to the brink of coming on just his fingers alone.
His lips are sloppy against her chest, more focused on how his digits buried themselves into her pussy. Her words aren’t coherent, a ringing faint in her ears as she tightens around him, her hips erupting into a shudder as she rides out her orgasm. He lightens the grip from her bum, allowing her to roll her hips with his fingers still deep inside her, basking in how she tried to milk herself of every drop she could.
Once her movements still, he slowly pulls out of her, the two making eye contact as he brings the two fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them prettily, licking her arousal from the source.
Her breaths were heavy, eyes darkened as she watched the dirtiest thing play out in front of her. His eyes flutter to a close, a smirk speaking across his lips as if it was the most heavenly thing he’s tasted; she already feels the knot in her tummy tightening again.
She pulls him into a kiss, meeting each other harshly as she tastes herself from his lips. His hands brush along the small of her back, then to her hips, slipping the shorts and panties down her legs and off her ankles with an awkward, momentary shift in position to do so. She lowers herself as much as he’d allow, his lips stilling as he feels her heat against the head of his cock. He pulls away slightly, forehead against hers with a small flicker of disappointment on his features. “I don’t have a condom.” His voice low and raspy, thick with lust as he held her against him once again, unable to fill herself as she desired.
Her chest rose and fell heavily, eyes meeting his. “M’on the pill.” She whispered, voice breathy and light from her previous orgasm.
His eyebrows furrowed, gaze unwavering in hers. This is something he normally would never do, fucking someone unprotected. But the way his cock ached for her was damn near painful, and he trusted her. A friend he’d come to cherish, although in the back of his mind, he wanted her more than a friend. He darted his eyes between hers and the way her tummy fluttered with heavy breath. His glance was expectant again, silently needing approval to even think of continuing.
She wiggled her hips in his grasp once more, her a whiny plea a soft mutter—and it’s all he needed to hear. She sank onto his length, a slow strain befell them from how he had to ease his cock into her pussy, stretching her out with every upward motion of his hips.
The feeling of him filling her was addicting to both, pleasured sighs and moans emitting from each of them as she adjusted around his length, sinking down the shaft completely. Only a beat had past before she started to roll her hips into him, adjusting to the feeling of him. One hand sat sprawled against her back, will the other remained on her ass. Harry’s head leaned along the edge of the couch, watching through half-lidded eyes at the way her tits moved as she began to bounce on his length, having him draw sharp inhale at the feeling. “Jus’ like that.” He groaned, the hand on her back and bum guiding her movements. “Good girl–y’feel so good, jus–” He cuts off his own sentence with a moan, his head falling forward now, just a bit. His forehead grazed along her shoulder—barely—every time she’d bob up the length of his cock. “Like that, bunny–fuck.” His voice was breathy, listening to the pretty moans that escaped her and the way her cunt sounded riding his cock.
His hand slid down her back, both gripping her ass a bit roughy as he guided her movements with more force. Her lips fell agape, a whimper falling out now and then as Harry held her weight as if it was nothing, moving her up and down his thick cock with an ease that made her cry out his name.
He pushed and pulled her onto him greedily, her head falling onto his shoulder as he rested his chin on hers, watching as he pounded her onto the base of his length. The sharp sounds of skin against skin mixed in with their moans, a cacophony of their pleasure filling the lounge.
He loosened his grip from her bum, smacking her ass as his other hand gathered her hair into his fist, jerking her head back to force a semblance of eye contact. The palm of his other hand rested over her thigh, continuing to guide her movements though the momentum from her own hands against his shoulders was enough.
He knew he was close, and the way her noises got louder, how her cunt tightened around him—Harry knew she was close, too. The tiny fraction of him that held an ounce of logic through his drunken pleasure told him to pull out, but it fell to the back of his mind, silenced with the sound of his own moans and the way his length twitched, the knot in his belly rounding tightly. “Look at me.” He forced through a grunt, his toes curling against the carpet and his jaw tightened as he tried to stall his release.
The grip on his shoulders was lethal, though the only thing he could feel was her pussy fluttering around him. Her hair was still balled tightly in his fist, craning her head into a position where their foreheads were only a few inches away—the only thing that would keep her from looking if she closed her eyes. She wouldn’t though.
His hand pushed harder against her thigh, both of their skin flushed a pink from the force of the contact of the way her ass and thighs slapped along his pelvis. “Say my name–” His groan was guttural, as if he was teetering on the edge of losing his composure. With his grip still in her hair, he pressed her forehead into his, both slick with a gleam of sweat. “When you come—say it.” He grunted, eyes meeting hers once again. “Or I won’t let you.”
She felt her legs to tremble, her lips parting as the cries and whimpers of his name escaped her like a mantra. His chest rose and fell unevenly, pressing her forehead into hers further as they met their release simultaneously. Thick ropes of come fill her cunt to the point where it drips out around him. Their breaths are heavy and quick, his hands soft against the skin of her legs as they tremble, pressing his lips atop her shoulders as she sinks into his chest.
*
The next morning arrived in a hazy blur. The sky was gray as it prepared itself for a summer thunderstorm. The pitter-patter of rain hitting the window caused him to stir first, a wince from feeling the stiffness in his neck before anything else. His back was pressed awkwardly into the couch, his arm draped around something soft and warm. He blinked his eyes open, the dull light from the stormy sky offering not very much of anything as it bled through the blinds. The familiar scent of the studio mixed with something more intoxicating—YN.
He nudged his chin down to glance at the girl curled up on his chest, his shirt from last night adorning her frame as soft snores fell from her mouth. Their legs were tangled together underneath a thin throw blanket with Christmas patterns he didn’t remember grabbing before passing out. The events of last night came in a rushed haze from the smell of the champagne on his own breath. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, but the movement pulled YN from her slumber. She let out a small groan before nuzzling deeper into his bare chest, not wanting to let go of the warmth.
The smell of Harry’s cologne caused her eyes to peel open, her brow furrowing in confusion as she took in her surroundings.
“Morning.” Harry had rasped out, voice still thick with sleep.
She blinked, and then placed her palms against his chest to push herself up. She glanced around the studio with the turn of her head, then back at Harry with an unreadable expression. Her hair was disheveled, Harry’s discarded shirt hung loosely around her—she could feel the thickness of his come seeping out of her, pooling in her underwear and forming a dampened spot. “Oh my god.”
He winced involuntarily, and this time it wasn’t from the ache in his neck. “Um.” He paused, voice cautious. “Yeah.”
YN bit her lip, sitting up fully as she slipped into a spot between his thighs. The cushion was soft against her bum as she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Yeah.” She echoed his words, unsure of what to say.
Harry had scoot up slightly, the small of his back against the arm of the sofa. He rubbed his neck, sighing from the crick he developed for sleeping in such an awkward position. “Are you okay?”
She looked at him, her eyes still a bit dazed from the remnants of sleep and the weight of their shared moment. YN offered him a small smile, “Mhm.” She hummed, but an uncertainty glimmered along the edge of her pupil, unsure of what came next. “Not exactly used to waking up like this, I guess–but I’m okay.”
He nodded slowly, though a frown threatened to spread across his lips. He reached out hesitantly, palm resting on her knee as he sighed. “You regret it?” He asked, though it sounded rhetorical.
Her face seemed to soften at his words, sincerity and a hint of hurt evident in his expression. A furrow formed in her forehead as she shook her head, placing a hand on top of the one he sat on her knee. “No, H. ‘Course not.” She paused, shifting in her seat before forcing herself to stand, his hand slipping from her knee back into his own lap. It felt cold, and he knew she was pulling away. She very quickly stripped Harry’s shirt off—to which he averted his eyes to the ground—shrugging back on her own hoodie and shorts.
“YN.” Harry mumbled, his voice shaking as he pulled his shirt back over his head. She seemed distracted, slipping her shoes back on and putting her phone into the hoodie pocket before she trailed back toward Harry, gazing down at where he sat on the couch. He had looked at her the way he always seemed to look at her, eyes full of things that would stay unsaid. “What does this mean?”
She kneeled before him almost immediately, combing her fingers through his hair in a moment of comfort. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.” Her voice was soft, kind, as if that was the thing he wanted to hear. “We’re friends, this won’t make it weird, okay?”
He could feel his heart sink into his stomach as he nodded with slight trepidation, wishing she would just open herself up and allow him to hold her, to show her that he wouldn’t let go. “I don’t regret it, never ever.” She murmured, ducking her head down a bit to meet his gaze that seemed to lower at her words. “I swear it.”
He forced a smile, her hand pulling away from his curls—the curls she previously moaned into, the hair that she tangled her fingers in from an orgasm that crashed over her like a wave. He swallowed dryly as she back stood up, still not looking away from him. A defeat settled over him, an impatient longing as he realized if he was ever going to have a chance with the woman before him, he’d have to wait. He didn’t know what pain she held, the things she guarded so strongly, but he knew she would have to admit to herself first that she was worthy of something good. Harry parted his lips, taking a deep breath to keep his voice steady. “Stay friends?” He asked expectantly, holding out a pinky to her.
She smiled, a sad one, however. She wanted to wrap him into her arms and apologize for making the choice to walk away, but she felt it was best. YN believed she wasn’t what he deserved, and it would be in his best interest to pretend like everything went back to normal. She lowered her hand, intertwining her pinky with his. “Stay friends.”
On August fourth, The studio was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the late afternoon sun filtering through the one window in the control room. Everyone, besides YN and Harry, went out for their lunch break. Harry had asked if she would help her tweak the soon-to-be third track on the album, Carolina.
Since waking up from the sex they had in the lounge, they hadn’t brought it up—though it didn’t disappear. There would be moments where it loomed over them, heavy and unrelenting. It took everything in them not to bridge that specific gap, took everything in Harry not to bend her over the soundboard to feel her again, took everything in him not to fall to his knees before her, hugging her legs while he cried about how he was helplessly falling for her.
It was the hottest day of the year, and though the air conditioner was humming in a low buzz, the air was thick with warmth. The kind of still, lingering heat that made everything feel slow and hazy, like time itself had paused for a moment. Harry picked up his guitar, fingers brushing over the strings, testing the familiar weight of it in his hands. The sound of the first strum seemed to melt into the air, easy, relaxed, as if the room itself was humming along to the rhythm.
She kneeled down, across from the spot Harry sat on the floor, guitar in lap. She pressed on certain strings on specific parts of the neck, eyes flickering between Harry and the instrument expectantly. They both knew the notes and the chords, the tone it could give. “Try those notes.”She murmured, moving Harry’s Hand from where it sat on the neck to where she wanted his fingers to be. Her touch was delicate, and if Harry didn’t reground himself he would’ve forgot what was happening all together. “Lean into the groove more?” Her words were laced with a light chuckle as she stood up, looking back down at the brunette on the floor. “Loosen up a bassline, could add some layered harmonies, something subtle, but it'll give the track more depth."
Harry's eyes lit up, a spark of excitement that always seemed to come alive when YN shared her thoughts. She had this uncanny way of making the most complex ideas sound simple. He nodded eagerly, strumming a few playful chords, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty studio. "Yeah, that's it.” He whispered to himself excitedly, already hearing the song in his head. He began playing, the cords, melody bright and carefree, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings.
The atmosphere shifted almost instantly—no longer weighed down by deadlines or pressure, but filled with something light. Harry stood up without a word, the grin never leaving his face as he strummed the revisioned tune, the guitar hanging casually from his shoulder as he waltzed across the room, his voice bouncing with the light-hearted lyrics. The brunette’s footsteps were lazy, carefree, his long legs carrying him in wide, exaggerated circles as he moved with the rhythm, his laughter spilling out between the lyrics. It was easy—so easy—that the line between the song and the moment blurred.
“She’s a good girl.”
his voice bright and full of mischief as he twirled past her, catching her eye. He wiggled his eyebrows, a playful challenge, daring her to join in.
YN couldn’t help herself, he was infectious . She laughed, the sound so genuine and pure it filled the air. She pushed away from the soundboard, and before she could even think of hesitation, she was dancing and hopping around in time to the music, letting herself get lost along with him.
“Such a good girl”
She really was, like when he buried himself between her legs a few weeks ago.
The hem of her dainty sundress swept around her shins in a slow, lazy twirl. Her laughter mixed with the sound of the guitar, light and unguarded, like the weight of the world had lifted, just for this one moment.
Harry’s voice followed her as he floated around, his fingers never missing a beat. The melody was effortless, the chords bright and warm like the fading summer light that filled the room. His gaze flicked toward her every few seconds, catching the way she moved, her arms outstretched as she spun in gentle circles, her hair catching the golden light in soft waves.
The whole scene felt like something out of time, like they had stepped into an old, grainy film reel—faded sun, carefree laughter, and the kind of simplicity that made everything else fade into the background. There was no rush, no pressure, just the music and the way they moved through it together.
Harry kept playing, his voice growing louder, more animated, as he circled back to her, his laughter echoing in the small space. He swayed, leaning into the guitar as he strummed, almost tripping over a cable but catching himself at the last second with a dramatic flourish. YN continued her movements, her arms floating through the air, soft and unhurried, like she was dancing with the music itself.
And then, in one smooth motion, Harry waltzed closer, standing just a few feet away from her as he played the final chorus. His smile was wide, eyes bright with the joy of the moment, and YN met his gaze with the same carefree energy, spinning one last time before she collapsed against the stool, breathless from her giggles.
The last chord hung in the air for a moment longer, lingering like the final rays of sunlight spilling through the window. The room was still humming with the energy they’d created, the echoes of their laughter and the bright notes of the guitar lingering in the walls. Harry let the guitar slide gently to his side, leaning against the stool as he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling in time with YN’s, her face flushed and glowing. He was grinning, the kind of grin that reached his eyes and made his dimples crater.
For a second, everything felt perfect, untouched by the noise of the outside world. It was just the two of them, the fading summer light, and the echo of a song that hadn’t yet been recorded but already felt like it was carved into their shared memory.
All he wanted to do was kiss her again.
She was perched on her chair now, her legs crossed, still smiling from their little impromptu dance. She glowed with the warmth of the sun filtering in through the window. The carefree, playful energy between them began to settle, but the air didn’t lose its charge. Instead, something softer slipped into the space between them, a kind of comfortable quiet as they both let the last traces of laughter fade away.
Harry wiped a hand across his forehead, pushing back a few stray curls as he looked over at her, the easy grin still tugging at his lips. The guitar rested against his knee as he sat down, but he didn’t play, didn’t move. He was just watching her now, the way her fingers traced absentminded circles on the edge of the stool, the way her gaze was still bright with that unguarded laughter. It was rare to see her like this—unguarded, fully present—and Harry found himself caught in the moment, not wanting it to end.
Just as that night in July, when we pulled her into her chest to sleep for the night—when it felt like he could call her his as he wrapped his arms around her, basking in their afterglow.
YN let out a soft sigh, the last of her breathless laughter leaving her, and when she looked at him, her expression shifted. Something quieter, more serious. The playful glint in her eyes softened into something almost reverent, like she was seeing him—really seeing him.
“You know, Harry.” She smiled, her voice gentle but firm, like she was about to say something important. “This album–” There was a pause as she exhaled through her nose, but it was light from her enthused realization. “It’s going to go down as a classic. It’s real. You’re real. Your talent, the rawness of it—it’s something people won’t forget.”
The words landed between them like a weight, soft but undeniable. Harry felt his heart skip, his smile faltering just slightly as her words settled in. He’d heard compliments before—so many, often thrown around casually—but this… this was different. The sincerity in her voice, the way her eyes held his, unflinching, unwavering, as if she wasn’t just saying something kind, but something true.
For a moment, the room seemed to shift around him. It was like the air grew thicker, the light softer, the world quieter. He felt exposed, in a way he hadn’t expected, like her words had peeled back a layer he’d been hiding under, a layer he hadn’t even realized was there. The compliment wasn’t just about the music, wasn’t just about the work they’d been doing. It felt personal, like she saw him—not the version of him the world saw, not Harry, the soloist, but him, Harry. The guy trying to figure it all out, pouring every piece of himself into this album, hoping that it would matter.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight, and for a second, he wasn’t sure what to say.
He thought about telling her thank you.
He thought about remaining speechless.
No one had told him something like that in a long time—not like this, not with this kind of weight. He could feel his chest tightening, his pulse thrumming a little too fast, the gravity of her words sinking deeper than he thought they would.
He thought about her words.
He thought about her.
“YN, I—” He started to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe she understood him more than he’d ever realized. Maybe that was why her words felt so heavy, why they struck him in a way nothing else had. Because they came from her.
He thought about how much he wanted to say he was starting to fall in love with her.
But before he could say anything else, the door to the studio swung open with a loud creak, breaking the moment like a pebble dropped into still water. The team was back, their voices filling the room as they filed in, the soft hum of conversation and the shuffle of papers cutting through the silence that had wrapped around him and YN.
“Alright, alright, back to it.” Jeff chuckled, ever the dad friend, clapping his hands as he made his way toward the control board. The mood shifted, the studio returning to its usual buzz of activity, the easy rhythm of work settling back into place.
Harry blinked, the spell of the moment breaking as he straightened up, shaking off the sudden heaviness in his chest. YN gave him a small, knowing smile, her eyes still holding a trace of the warmth from before, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She’d already said what mattered.
She knew the look in Harry’s eye.
She had thought about how much she missed him.
She thought about how much that scared her.
With a soft sigh, Harry adjusted the guitar on his lap, nodding as the team gathered around, discussing admin details, technical tweaks, and publicity strategies for the album’s release. The room was buzzing again, the easy laughter and lightness of earlier replaced with the steady hum of work. But Harry’s mind was still lingering on what YN had said, the quiet sincerity of her words looping in the back of his mind.
As the evening stretched on, the work became more mechanical—emails, calls, planning—but Harry’s thoughts kept drifting back to her. He couldn’t shake the way she drifted around the room earlier, like a dandelion wisp dancing in the wind. How her laugh sounded so pretty he wanted to put it in a song. How real it had felt when she’d looked at him and told him what his music would become. It was a compliment, sure, but it was more than that. It was a belief. And for the first time in a long while, Harry felt like someone saw him exactly as he was, and believed in him all the same.
That day at the studio soon began to draw to a close, the golden light from earlier now softening into deep ambers and long shadows. The room, once buzzing with activity, had fallen into a more relaxed rhythm as the team packed up their things, saying their goodbyes with tired but satisfied smiles. The project was moving, inching closer to the finish line.
Harry leaned back, watching from the corner of the room as the last of the crew made their way to the door. The sounds of zippers closing and bags being slung over shoulders filled the space, each member of the team calling out their see-you-laters, their voices fading as they spilled out into the hallway. One by one, they disappeared, until the door swung shut with a final, quiet click, leaving just Harry and YN behind.
The silence settled in slowly, wrapping itself around the room like a warm, familiar blanket. It was the kind of silence that felt more like a presence than an absence, thick and heavy with something unspoken. Harry ran his fingers over the neck of his guitar one last time before placing it back on its stand, the metal strings catching the fading light. His movements were slow, almost deliberate, like he was trying to hold on to the quiet a little longer.
He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that YN was still at the small table near the edge of the room, shuffling her things about. She was moving slower than usual, her hands hovering over her notebook, lingering on the scattered papers like she wasn’t quite ready to leave. Harry chuckled softly, the sound breaking the stillness.
“Need help with all that?” he asked, his voice airy, teasing in a way that felt natural between them.
But YN didn’t respond right away. She kept her eyes down, focused on her things, but her movements were stiffer now, less fluid. There was something different in the way she stood there, something quiet but undeniably present—an undercurrent of tension Harry couldn’t quite place. He felt the air shift, that familiar warmth between them suddenly giving way to something more solemn, more guarded.
“YN?” Harry asked, his voice softer now, his smile fading as he stepped toward her. “Everything alright?”
She looked up then, her eyes catching his for the briefest moment before she quickly glanced away again, like she couldn’t hold the gaze for too long. Her expression was calm, but there was a tightness in her jaw, something held back, something she wasn’t sure how to say. She let out a soft sigh, the weight of whatever was on her mind finally beginning to show.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She started, her voice low and measured, like she was carefully choosing each word. “August thirty-first.” She bit the inside of her lip momentarily. “It’ll be my last day here. My internship—it’s ending.”
The words landed between them like a quiet echo, reverberating in the space left behind by the day’s fading energy. Harry felt the weight of them settle in his chest, heavier than he had expected. He knew the internship wouldn’t last forever—of course, he’d known that—but hearing it out loud, hearing it from her, made it feel real in a way he hadn’t prepared for.
For a moment, Harry didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her, trying to make sense of the sudden tightness in his throat. It felt like the air had been knocked out of him, but he didn’t quite understand why. She was still there, right in front of him, but the idea of her leaving, of this chapter ending, hit him harder than he thought it would.
“Your last day.” He repeated quietly, more to himself than to her, his brows knitting together slightly.
YN nodded, but she didn’t look at him. She busied herself with the papers in her hands, though it was clear she wasn’t really doing anything—just moving things around to avoid the heaviness of the conversation. The atmosphere had changed, charged with an unsaid emotion. It reminded Harry of the way people talk about those long, hot August nights, the kind where the sky is still bright at 9pm, but you can feel autumn creeping in around the edges, making the warmth feel both infinite and fleeting.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet breath as he leaned against the control board. He wasn’t sure what to say.
Part of him wondered if it was because of the sex. A part of him wanted to ask her to stay, to find some reason to keep her there, keep things as they were. But he knew he couldn’t. That wasn’t the way the world worked, no matter how much you wanted to freeze a moment in time.
“How come?” He finally asked, his voice quieter now, softer in a way that mirrored the dimming light of the room.
YN shrugged slightly, her shoulders barely moving. “I’ve known for a bit. It’s temporary, only a summer internship.”
Harry nodded, understanding, though the weight in his chest hadn’t eased. It was hard for him, realizing that after all the late nights, the music, the moments shared, things would change. And YN—who had always kept that quiet distance, who never let anyone too close—wasn’t just leaving the studio. She was leaving him, even if she didn’t mean it that way.
The room felt smaller now, the silence between them growing heavier with every passing second. Harry looked down at his hands, tracing the worn edges of the soundboard with his thumb, searching for something to say that wouldn’t feel like an end.
“I’ll miss you.” He admitted solemnly, the words simple, but honest. They hung in the air like a truth too big for him to admit, they hung in the air like three words she wouldn’t have believed if he said it.
YN smiled then, a small, bittersweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She still looked guarded, her walls firmly in place, but there was something soft in the way she glanced up at him, like maybe she felt it too—the finality of the moment they were both trying to avoid.
“I’ll miss you, too.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
And for a brief, fragile second, it was just them again, standing in the soft glow of the studio lights, the world outside forgotten. The weight of time, of change, of things left unsaid—all of it hung between them, heavy but delicate, like a glass teetering on the edge of a table.
Harry opened his mouth, wanting to say more, to ask her something, anything to keep her there a little longer. But before he could find the words, the moment slipped away, the weight of reality settling back in as YN turned away, gathering the last of her things.
The light from the hallway spilled into the room as she reached for the door, casting a long shadow across the studio floor. Harry watched as she stepped toward it, his heart heavy with the knowledge that everything was about to change, whether he was ready for it or not.
YN hesitated in the hallway, every nerve in her body begging her to leave. Her heart sat heavy in her chest, tongue in cheek as she turned back around, opening the door back up with trembling fingers. She stood in the doorway, cracked enough for her frame to linger. A stripe of the nauseating white light of the hallway waned over him and he remained in the same place she had left him moments ago. “Harry.” She muttered, her voice low, almost weary. There was something in the way she said his name, something different—like maybe she wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.
He perked up, his tummy doing flips. The pearly glow behind her made her seem ethereal—angelic. “Yeah?” His tone gentle but searching, like he was trying to pull something unspoken out of the quiet between them.
She looked at him then, fully, her eyes catching the last remnants of the dim light in the studio. For a moment, the guardedness slipped, just a fraction, and Harry could see something underneath—something vulnerable, something that felt a little like goodbye.
“I’m really glad I got to work with you.” YN’s voice was delicate, her words carrying a weight that made it threaten to crack. “This–this has been more than I ever could’ve asked for.”
She was referring to more than just the music and the internship.
Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He didn’t know what to say to that—didn’t know how to tell her that she wasn’t just some random, throwaway intern to him, that these past few months had meant more than just music and late-night studio sessions. She had become a part of his world in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and now that she was leaving, it felt like something vital was being pulled away, leaving him standing on unsteady ground.
“Me too.” He confessed, though he could’ve said more. Harry’s voice was quieter than he intended, his hand running over his face from a feeling he couldn’t admit.
The words hung in the air, soft but honest. YN had seen parts of him that few people did—had understood his music, his vulnerabilities, in a way that made him feel seen. And now, the thought of her not being there—of her walking out that door and leaving all of this behind—made him feel strangely untethered.
YN’s lips curved into a small, almost wistful smile. She looked down at her shoes for a moment, the tip of her sneaker nudging a stray cable on the floor. “I didn’t mean to stay so late.” A weak attempt at lightening the moment. But her eyes betrayed her, the flicker of something deeper still lingering behind her words.
Harry took a step closer, closing the distance between them just slightly. “You know.”Harry mumbled, his tone lighter now, though the heaviness between them still lingered. “This feels a lot like a goodbye when y’have a few weeks still.”
YN glanced up at him, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess we do.” She let out a breathy chuckle, though her voice sounded distant, like she was already somewhere else in her mind.
Silence settled between them again, thicker this time, like the room itself was holding its breath. Harry wanted to say more—wanted to ask her what came next for her, wanted to tell her that maybe things didn’t have to end here—tell her to stay. But he didn’t. The words caught in his throat, tangled up with all the emotions he wasn’t sure how to name.
After a moment, YN shifted her bag on her shoulder and let out a soft breath. “I should get going.” She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s late.”
Harry nodded, but his chest felt heavy, like he didn’t want her to leave just yet. “Yeah. Right. Let me know you got home okay.”
YN’s smile was small, almost bittersweet. She began to turn in the doorway, her movements slow, like the action of leaving pained her. He sent her a small wave as she gave him one last glance, the door softly clicking shut behind her.
The summer had begun to slip away quietly, the August sun sitting lower in the sky at earlier hours. The air was different that day—thicker, heavier with the weight of something ending. There was a finality to the way the light filtered through the studio’s window, soft and hazy, like the last days of vacation in an old photograph. Everything felt suspended, as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable.
Harry had known this day was coming. He’d tried not to think about it, tried to focus on the album, on the music, on the thousand little tasks that came with putting it all together. But today was different. No matter how much he had tried to push it out of his mind, the date had circled back around, staring him in the face.
August thirty-first.
YN’s last day.
He arrived at the studio earlier than usual, the streets outside still quiet, the early morning light pale and soft against the burning. The usual buzz of excitement—the thrill of working on his debut album—was muted, overshadowed by the knowledge that by the end of the day, YN would be gone.
As he set his guitar in the corner of the room, he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. She was already there, sitting at her usual spot by the control board, her notebook open in front of her, a pen poised between her fingers. She was focused, scribbling something down, but her movements were slower, more deliberate today. Harry could tell. She knew it too.
The room was quieter than usual, the hum of the equipment the only sound as he walked over to her. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It felt like there were a hundred things left unsaid, hanging in the air between them, waiting to be acknowledged. But neither of them said anything. Not yet.
“Morning.” Harry said softly, settling down into his chair across from her. He didn’t dare to greet her with good morning, because it really wasn’t. Not today. He didn’t know when it would be again.
“Morning.” She murmured, voice almost resigned, not looking up from her notebook. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Harry felt his chest tighten.
They spent the morning working in the usual rhythm, going over the last details of the album. It should have been a day like any other, but there was a tension under the surface, something neither of them could quite shake. Every moment felt like it was leading up to something, like the end was creeping closer with each passing minute.
By the time the afternoon rolled around, the studio had filled with the usual buzz of people—producers, assistants, technicians—all busy, all focused. But Harry’s mind was somewhere else. He kept glancing over at YN, watching the way she moved around the studio, the way she interacted with everyone, like it was just another day. But he could see it in the way she lingered on certain tasks, the way her eyes scanned the room as if she was memorizing it.
It was nearing the end of the day when the rest of the team began wrapping up, gathering their things, making plans for the next session. The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting the room in that soft, golden light that made everything feel both beautiful and bittersweet. Harry watched as the others said their goodbyes to YN, one by one, thanking her for her work, telling her to stay in touch. She smiled, gracious as ever, but there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she were already one foot out the door.
And then, it was just the two of them.
The door clicked shut behind the last person, and suddenly the room felt much bigger, the space between them much quieter. Harry stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, watching the light fade as the day slipped into evening. YN was still by the control board, slowly packing up her things—her notebook, her pens, the little scraps of paper she’d scribbled ideas on over the past few months. Her movements were slow, deliberate, holding onto to the moment just a little longer.
Harry turned to face her, his pulse thrumming a little too fast. He wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this moment, not really. He had spent the last few weeks trying to avoid thinking about it, but now, standing there in the dimming light, he realized he still didn’t want her to leave.
“Are you all set?” He asked quietly, his voice sounding too casual for how much dread he felt inside.
YN glanced up, her eyes meeting his for the first time all day. There was a flicker of something there—something that matched the weight in his chest—but she quickly looked away, zipping up her bag with a small nod.
“I guess so.” She forced a smile, standing up from her chair. “I think that’s everything.”
The silence that followed felt as if nails scratched an old chalkboard, stretching out between them like a line drawn in the sand. Harry took a slow breath, trying to steady himself, trying to find the words he hadn’t been able to say all day. He watched as she slung her bag over her shoulder, her fingers brushing lightly over the edge of the soundboard one last time, like she was saying goodbye to something bigger than just the room.
Harry wanted to ask her to stay, wanted to tell her that things didn’t have to end here—that maybe, just maybe, there was more for them beyond this room, beyond this summer. But he couldn’t. He knew her too well by now, knew that she had already made up her mind.
“I guess this is goodbye then.” She frowned, eyes glasses over.
His stomach lurched. She had his number, of course, but Harry didn’t know if she would keep in contact. He didn’t know she would erase the summer from her mind to ease her heart. Harry swallowed hard, the lump in his throat causing him to wince. “Goodbye, YN.”
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The room was bathed in the last traces of sunshine, everything feeling suspended in time. And then, slowly, YN stepped toward the door, her fingers brushing the handle. She paused, glancing back at him one last time, her expression unreadable.
And he caught himself. The all too familiar lump in his throat at a dull ache, the tip of his nose tickling as he felt tears well up. His feet moved faster than he could think, just a blink of time, and his hand was wrapped around her forearm, pulling YN away from the door. “That’s it?” He asked, his cheeks flushing red and his voice cracked. “That’s all?”
She frowned, her nostrils flaring as she willed away her tears. She adjusted the tote on her shoulder, averting her gaze from Harry to the wall behind him.
“Stay.” He pleaded, she only shook her head.
Stray tears fell from his eyes, heartbroken. “I can have them extend your internship, or something—please.”
Her eyes met his again, stomach twisting at his tears. “Harry that’s a hand out.” She muttered, sighing with a sadness she tried to push away. “I have to move forward.”
He sniffled, lighting placing his hand on her cheek as he brought her into a kiss. His tears made his lips wet, nose too stuffy to breathe through it—but he didn’t care. He figured this was goodbye, for a while.
Her lips were stilled against his until she melted into it, but it was fleeting. She placed her hand upon the one he had on her cheek, removing it as she pulled her face away. She intertwined her fingers with his, placing a few soft kisses to his knuckles.
He only stood there, lips quivering with tears that were unable to stop. As she began to loosen the grip on his hand, putting his arm back to his side, an audible cry left his mouth. It wasn’t loud, barely above a whisper, but it was there. “Y’pinky promised me.” He shook his head, “That we would stay friends.” He took a deep breath, wiping away some of his tears. “But I know you’re gonna disappear on me.”
This time she let her tears fall, taking a step away—the guilt was allconsiming. “Take care of yourself, H.”
And just like that, she was gone as quick as she came.
But that was two months ago, and Harry was right—she barely kept in contact with him. He tried not to take it personally for a while, seeing as she didn’t update her socials as much either. She disappeared just like a snuffed out flickered flame of a candle.
She would respond occasionally, curious to know if he was okay, how the album was going. It was always fine.
Fine, fine, fine.
But he wasn’t fine, it wasn’t fine. He missed her, Harry felt that she broke their promise. And he wanted to be angry, to block her from his mind, but he couldn’t.
He was planning to fly to LA to finish the rest of the album in late September, but couldn’t do it. He remained in New York, not ready to let go of the many things created in that studio.
It was two in the morning as he stared at the bright glare of his phone, the recently sent attachment of the final cut of Carolina staying the dismal state of delivered.
He knew she had her read receipts on, which is why he didn’t swipe away from their messages—heart thudding against his chest as he waited to see if status would ever change to read.
Of course, undeniably so, the song was about another girl. But now it felt like a contradictory, because the only thing he thought about when listening to it was YN.
He knew now that he loved her, that he was in love with her the minute she sent her nod of approval for the From the Dining Table recording.
He was a walking joke to the saying of, she fell first, he fell harder—because he fell first, and then fell even harder.
Harry groaned, shutting his phone off and letting it slip into his lap as he leaned back onto the bed. The heel of his palm sat against his eyes, the pressure allowing for the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns to play on the inside of his eyelids.
He wondered if slamming his head against the wall would feel better than the ache of heartbreak.
However, he didn’t want to test that theory out. He’ll let it remain as a hypothesis for now.
His hands brushed down to his sides, his vision fading back to normal as he stared at the ceiling. He wanted to see if he could go to sleep, maybe even watch a movie—but his phone vibrated against his thigh and he swore the world stopped spinning on its axis for a beat.
He hesitated to look, if it was another weather notification he would probably lose his mind.
But he sat up anyway, grimacing as he clicked the power button, dreading the possible sight of the familiar blue icon.
Yn: everything i imagined it to be and more
Yn: forever proud of you harry styles
His shoulders faltered, a frown settling upon his lips.
h: I miss you.
YN stared at the message, lips parted. She still sat on the bathroom counter where she had been for the last ten minutes, smooshed close to the mirror in attempt to shape her eyebrows.
But as soon as she saw the song attachment pop up three minutes ago, the tweezers remained in its clattered state in the sink.
When the song emitted from her phone she couldn’t help but smile, she swear she could’ve floated. And then she cried.
h: I have 2 more songs to finalize before we send it through to be released next year.
h: Miss picking your brain.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a pause in her breath. She wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her wanted to respond right away, to fill the silence with words, to close the gap between them that had grown wider with every passing day since she left. But the other part of her—the part that had been protecting her heart all these months—wanted to stay distant, to keep things as they were, safely tucked away in the past.
YN sighed, running a hand through her hair as she glanced at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The one who had walked out of the studio with a heavy heart and the quiet resolve to move forward, to start anew. But that resolve was wavering now, and Harry’s words were making it impossible to ignore the ache she’d been trying to avoid.
Her phone buzzed again. Another message.
h: Still time to come back, you know. We could finish the album together.
Her heart clenched at the invitation. She could picture him, sitting in the dim light of his apartment, maybe lying in bed, the soft glow of his phone the only thing lighting up his face. She imagined the look in his eyes as he typed the words, that same softness she had seen in him so many times before—when they worked late into the night, when he caught her staring too long, when he let his guard down just enough for her to see the vulnerability underneath.
But she had walked away for a reason. She knew what it would do to her—how easy it would be to fall back into the rhythm of working with Harry, of getting lost in his music, in him. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the intensity of what lingered between them, the unspoken connection that had grown stronger with every conversation, every glance, every laugh shared.
She didn’t know if she wanted to take the risk to be left again.
h: Please. Just think about it.
Her fingers trembled as she typed, mouth ran dry. She didn’t know what to say, but she knew she couldn’t leave him hanging.
Yn: i’ll think about it
It was short, maybe too short, but it was all she could offer in that moment. She stared at the message for a long time before hitting send, her stomach twisting with the uncertainty of what came next.
On the other end, Harry stared at his phone, his heart sinking as he read her reply. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. It was something in between, something that left him in limbo, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure would ever come.
He sat there in the silence of his apartment, the city outside moving on as it always did. He wanted to see her again, wanted to finish what they’d started, not just with the music, but with whatever had been building between them all those months. But he knew he couldn’t push her. YN was careful, guarded, and he had learned that the hard way. She had her reasons for keeping her distance, reasons she had never fully shared with him.
But still, he hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d come back. That maybe, for once, she’d take a chance.
And so he waited, the phone resting in his lap, the weight of the unsaid words heavy in the room around him.
The days passed slowly after that, each one blending into the next as Harry focused on finishing the album. He threw himself into the work, pouring all of his energy into the final tracks, refining the sound, changing some lyrics, adding new elements.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. The songs were good—great, even—but without YN’s input, without her presence in the studio, it all felt a little hollow. He missed her—missed her laugh, missed the way she’d furrow her brow when she was deep in thought, missed the way she made him feel like he didn’t have to be Harry Styles all the time. With her, he was just Harry. And that was enough.
He loved her.
He hadn’t heard from her since that night. No messages, no calls. It was like she had disappeared all over again, slipping out of his life as quietly as she had entered it.
It was November sixteenth when his phone buzzed again, a message lighting up the screen. The sky was dull, a harsh breeze whipping around the branches of trees—gearing up for a downpour. His heart raced as he saw her name, his fingers fumbling to unlock the phone.
Yn: you’re in ny still?
Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected to hear from her again, not after weeks of silence.
h: Still here. Why?
There was a long pause before her next message came through.
Yn: i’ve been thinking about you
It was as if the system his body needed to stay alive had paused, his mind racing with possibilities. He couldn’t believe it—after all this time, she was finally considering it.
h: If you ever feel ready, I’m right where you left me.
Another pause.
Yn: it was ever just about the album h
Her message hit him like a punch to the chest, the weight of it settling in slowly. He had known—of course, he had known—but seeing it there, written out in front of him, made it all the more real.
Harry stared at the message for a long time, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he tried to find the right words. But what could he say? He felt the same way, had felt it for months, but he hadn’t known how to tell her.
He attempted to, the day she left, cried even. But she walked away before he had the chance to continue.
h: I know.
It was simple, but it was true. He did know. He had known all along.
Yn: are you still recording at the same studio?
Harry’s heart leapt at her words, a surge of hope flooding through him.
h: Yeah, actually here right now. Brainstorming by myself for a bit.
Yn: buzz me in. i’m outside
Harry blinked, rereading the message a few times, the tips of his fingers all pins and needles
Outside.
She was there—outside, in the cold, waiting. Without thinking, he shot out of his chair, the legs scraping the studio floor with a harsh screech. His phone almost slipped from his hand as he fumbled to send her a quick reply. His movements were so frantic he had forgotten to press send.
He grabbed his jacket, threw it over his shoulders, and bolted for the door, his mind racing. She was here.
He wondered if he should slow down, would it be weird to greet her breathless at the door?
He rolled his eyes at himself. stop overthinking.
The hallway lights flickered slightly as he made his way down the corridor, his steps fast. He wasn’t sure what he would say, wasn’t sure what she would say, but none of that mattered. All he knew was that she was here, and that was enough for him right now.
When he finally reached the front entrance, he paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the buzzer. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions bubbling inside him. There was a weight to this moment—something bigger than just a simple reunion. He could feel it, like the air had thickened with all the unsaid words between them.
He pressed the button.
A soft buzz echoed through the small space, followed by the familiar click of the door unlocking. Harry pulled it open, stepping out into the crisp November air. The wind whipped around him, biting at his skin, but it didn’t matter because there she was.
YN stood a few feet away, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, her hair tousled by the wind. Her face was partially shadowed in the dingy light from the streetlamps, but he could still see her eyes—those same eyes that had watched him in the studio all those months ago, the ones that saw more than most people ever did.
The eyes of a girl he fell so pathetically in love with.
They stood there for a moment, staring at each other in the cold, neither of them moving. It was like time had paused again, just as it had so many times before when they were alone in the studio, surrounded by music but drowning in something deeper. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, unsure how to break the silence.
Finally, YN spoke, her voice quiet but steady, cheeks flushed from both her deepening blush and the cold. “Hi, Harry.”
The sound of her voice hit him like a wave, familiar and comforting, and all the tension he’d been holding onto seemed to unravel at once. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiled, though his heart was still racing. “Hi.”
It was such a simple exchange, but it felt like everything. For weeks, Harry had been caught in this strange limbo, not knowing if he’d see her again, not knowing if the distance between them was permanent. But here she was, standing right in front of him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally shifting.
“It’s cold.” His voice is light, jutting his chin ever so slightly to the outside that existed around them. “Come in, please.”He felt unsure of how much to say, how much to push.
YN hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering toward the door behind him. She shifted on her feet, the wind catching the ends of her coat and lifting it slightly. For a second, Harry thought she might say no, that maybe she was having second thoughts. But then, she gave him a small nod, a barely-there smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Harry held the door open as she walked past him, the familiar warmth of the studio wrapping around them both as they stepped inside. It was quiet—just the two of them now, the usual noise of the team gone for the night. He led her down the hallway toward the control room, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, thoughts spinning with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t quite figure out how to.
When they reached the room, Harry gestured toward the seat she’d always occupied—the one by the soundboard where she’d spent so many hours offering ideas, tweaking lyrics, helping him make a few songs what they were. YN paused for a second before sitting down, her hands resting in her lap as she glanced around the room.
“It feels the same.” Her laugh was breathy, a sadness to it. Her eyes lingered on the equipment, the scattered notes, the half-empty coffee cups that still littered the space. “Like nothing’s changed.”
Harry sat down across from her, his fingers brushing absently against the neck of the guitar that leaned against the chair. “Not much has.” He admitted, his voice quiet. “Except for you not being here.”
She looked at him then, searching his face, and Harry felt that familiar pull—the one that had always drawn him to her, even when she’d kept herself at arm’s length. There was something in her gaze, something heavy with unsaid words, and he wondered if she could feel it too.
A beat had passed. “I missed this, she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you, H.
His cheeks felt hot, the words landing between them like a confession. He swallowed, his chest tightening with the weight of everything he wanted to say in return.
“I missed you too.”Harry murmured, the truth of it echoing in every syllable. And for the first time in months, the silence between them didn’t feel so heavy. It felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to fall back into place. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.
She shifted on her feet, eyes falling to the floor. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was sincere, dripping with the guilt she’s battled for months. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I needed to take some time, figure things out.”
He nodded, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. He would’ve tried to look better if he knew he’d be seeing her today. “It hurt.”
She pulled her lips between her teeth, eyes glossed over as she nodded. She had to look away, not able to face him. She knew she had done to him the same thing she was so afraid of—she just left. It gutted her for a while, wanting to reach out and apologize. She had this anxious feeling he wouldn’t forgive her. Rightfully so.
But it’s Harry.
He ran his hand down his face, a swirl of emotions becoming a cyclone within him. He frowned, seeing how spaced she was—as if she wasn’t here. “You need to tell me what’s on your mind.”
His tone was a bit more straightforward than he originally intended, but it was the truth. She showed up asking to be buzzed in, he felt as if he shouldn’t be the one digging.
She shook her head, trying to blink away some of her tears. “Guilt, sorrow, you.”
He nodded, looking at her expectantly to finish. He wished she could say her feelings as fast as she could walk away from them, but she was trying at least, and it felt like a start.
She inhaled shakily, running her fingers through her hair as her lip continued to tremble. “Guilt for leaving you the same what I feared being left.” Her voice had a tremor, her breaths a bit quicker. “Guilt for not saying sorry sooner. The pain of missing you—.” She whimpered, the same as Harry did the day she left.
“The guilt and sorrow will fade.” Harry murmured, his heart aching at the sight of her tears. “Y’just to work through it, don’t ignore it.”
YN wiped her cheeks, fingers shaking as she tried to regulate her breathing.. “And you?” Her voice was small, fragile, afraid of the answer.
He furrowed his eyebrows, “Me?”
“Have I lost you?”
He frowned, the words caught in his throat. The question felt like it knocked the air from his lungs, and for a moment he didn’t know how to respond. The silence stretched between them, unbearable. He let his shoulders falter, “I love you, YN.”
The words hung between them, raw and unfiltered. It was stripped of all pretense, just the truth he carried with him for months. He watched her for any sort of reaction, and she just kind of stood there. He wondered for a moment if he even said anything, if it was just loud in his head but he actually had just left her hanging. “I love you.” He repeated, just in case.
"I–” She tried to speak, but her voice cracked.
She swallowed hard, tears still clinging to her lashes as she searched his face. The pain, the guilt, the regret—it was all still there, but beneath it, there was something else, something softer. Something she had kept hidden for so long, she wasn't sure how to let it out. “You do?”
He nodded, remaining vulnerable. He had no clue if she would reciprocate, or if she’d just walk away if met with the familiar fear. “Think I always have.”
For the first time, it didn't feel like there was a barrier. It felt like something was breaking, something that had been keeping them apart for far too long.
Without thinking, she reached for him, her fingers brushing against his arm, tentative at first, but then firmer as she closed the distance between them. He didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. She melted into him, her face pressed against his chest as the tears flowed freely now, the weight of months of separation, guilt, and pain finally slipping away.
Harry held her tightly, his chin resting on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his. This was what he had been missing—this. Not just the music, not just the friendship. It was her. All of her.
"I love you," he whispered again, the words soft and full of promise. "I’m here."
It was them, just them—like she’d never left.
1K notes · View notes
rafecameronssl4t · 4 months ago
Note
Omg god can you please do a forced marriage au. Where reader is being weirdly clingy(Ik it doesn’t really fit her vibe) and rafe’s weirded out. And she kisses him unexpectedly and he’s so confused.
Drunk kisses || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/n: fluffy fic which ik all of you have been wanting in this au so u are welcome ;)
Warnings: none really just fluff
Word count: 2,380
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
Tumblr media
divider by @h-aewo
Rafe barely glanced up from his laptop when the front doorbell rang. The sharp sound cut through the quiet of the house, but he quickly resumed typing, thinking nothing of it at first. It rang again, more insistently this time, drawing his attention. He frowned, closing his laptop and glancing toward the hallway.
"Anita?" he called out, expecting the familiar shuffle of the housekeeper’s footsteps. But silence greeted him in return. He checked his watch—it was past midnight. Of course, everyone had gone home by now.
With a frustrated sigh, Rafe stood and headed toward the foyer, the steady ringing making him wonder who could possibly be at their door at such an ungodly hour. He glanced at the small display screen by the entrance, his brow furrowing at the sight of you. You were slumped against your sister, who looked like she was struggling to hold you upright. Rafe’s confusion deepened as he swung open the door.
Before he could say anything, you staggered forward, collapsing right into his arms. Charlotte let out a startled gasp, covering her mouth in shock as Rafe instinctively caught you, his hands gripping your waist to steady you. "Jesus," he muttered under his breath, trying to process what was happening. You looked up at him with a lazy, drunken smile, the scent of alcohol heavy on your breath.
The sight of you—usually so composed and poised—now giggling like a carefree girl was jarring. “Oh, look, Lottie! It’s my husband. My gorgeous husb—” you slurred, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you tried to blow a strand of hair away from your face. But before you could finish, Rafe cut you off, his annoyance already simmering beneath the surface.
"How much did you let her drink?" he snapped, turning his icy blue gaze toward Charlotte. There was disbelief in his voice, a hint of something protective and yet frustrated. You had been out of control before, but never like this. “I—I tried,” Charlotte stammered, her face flushed with guilt. “I gave her something else—”
“What? More alcohol?” Rafe’s tone was sharp, and Charlotte flinched under his harsh words. He couldn’t believe it. You were usually guarded, careful—this wasn’t like you at all. Rafe glanced down at you again, a mixture of irritation and concern flashing across his face as you leaned further into him, still smiling like the world was spinning too slowly for you.
"We're supposed to have breakfast with your parents tomorrow," he muttered, more to himself than to you. His jaw clenched, the thought of having to face them with you like this filling him with dread. As much as he loathed the idea of those formal meals, they mattered in your world—the perfect image you were both supposed to maintain.
Rafe struggled to keep you upright, your legs barely cooperating as you leaned heavily against him, still giggling softly. His frustration flared again, and he shot a sharp glance at Charlotte, who stood frozen in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. “How the hell did this even happen?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous.
Charlotte hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “She… she just kept ordering more drinks. I tried to stop her, I swear, but she insisted. And, well, you know how stubborn she can get.” Rafe let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I know." He looked down at you as you murmured something incoherent, your fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.
"And you didn’t think to call me? Or at least cut her off?” “I—” Charlotte started but quickly swallowed her words when Rafe’s icy gaze met hers again. "I thought she'd sober up. I didn’t want to make a scene… and she kept saying she was fine." "Clearly, she’s not fine," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp as he adjusted his grip on you, trying to stop you from slipping further down his side.
“You should’ve stopped her. God, Charlotte, you know we have that damn breakfast tomorrow.” Charlotte’s eyes widened as if realising the gravity of the situation all over again. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I really didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand…” Rafe clenched his jaw, his patience thinning with each passing second. “Well, it did. And now I have to deal with this.” He shook his head, his grip tightening slightly on your waist as he hoisted you up a little higher.
“Mmm… Rafe," you mumbled softly, your head lolling against his chest. “You're always so serious.” Your words slurred together, and you let out another soft laugh, as if this entire situation was some kind of joke. Rafe's brow furrowed, his annoyance tempered for a moment by the sight of you so completely out of character. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—carefree, uninhibited, and honestly, it unnerved him.
“You should go home, Charlotte,” Rafe finally said, his voice quieter now but still holding that authoritative edge. “I’ll take care of her.” Your sister looked hesitant, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. "Are you sure? I can help—" "No, just go. You've done enough." His tone left no room for argument, and Charlotte sighed in defeat, giving him a small nod before stepping back toward the door.
“I really am sorry,” she murmured softly, her voice laced with guilt. She cast one last glance at you, who was now resting your head against Rafe’s chest, your arms loosely draped around his neck. Rafe didn’t respond, his attention now fully on you as Charlotte finally made her exit.
The front door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit foyer. You stirred in his arms, blinking up at him with bleary eyes, the remnants of your smile still lingering. “You always look so serious, Rafe,” you whispered, your words thick with exhaustion. “Why can’t you just… relax?” Rafe sighed deeply, his frustration mixing with an odd sense of helplessness.
He wasn’t used to feeling like this—torn between annoyance and something else he couldn’t quite place. "Because someone has to be," he muttered, more to himself than to you. You giggled again, leaning your forehead against his chest. “Maybe I should be serious too, then. Like you. So we can both be… boring together.” You laughed softly at your own words, your fingers tracing absentminded circles on his chest.
Rafe’s lips twitched again, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through his usually stoic expression. You were a mess, slurring your words and giggling like a child, but in the soft, dim glow of the foyer, you looked undeniably beautiful. Strands of hair framed your face in a way that made you seem even more delicate, your skin glowing faintly under the soft lighting.
For a fleeting moment, he found himself captivated by how vulnerable and unguarded you appeared—so different from the strong-willed woman he was used to. But he quickly shook the thought away, forcing himself to stay focused. This was not the time to get caught up in sentiment. “You’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, though still touched with that same gentleness that had snuck in earlier.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed before you say something else you’ll regret.” His eyes lingered on your face, watching as your expression shifted from amusement to a peaceful kind of daze. The way you leaned further into him, trusting him completely in your intoxicated state, stirred something unexpected within him—an unfamiliar blend of protectiveness and tenderness.
It unsettled him, but he pushed it aside, convincing himself it was just the responsibility of the moment. You hummed softly, your eyes fluttering closed, a contented sigh slipping past your lips. “Mmm… my gorgeous husband, taking care of me,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying a playful edge that made Rafe’s heart beat a little faster.
Even drunk, you were still testing him, still finding a way to get under his skin. He rolled his eyes, though there was no real malice behind it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m your gorgeous husband,” he muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused as he tightened his grip on you, making sure you were secure in his arms. “Let’s just focus on getting you upstairs in one piece.”
You chuckled softly, your head resting more comfortably against his chest, your breath warm against the fabric of his shirt. “Always so serious…” you mumbled, your voice trailing off as sleep began to claim you. Rafe glanced down at you again, shaking his head slightly. Even in this state, you still managed to get to him. He started moving toward the stairs, his steps careful as he balanced your weight against his own.
Rafe opened the door to your shared room, his movements steady as he guided you into the closet. “Here, you should get changed into something more comfortable,” he murmured, opening a drawer and pulling out one of his shirts—a soft, oversized one you often stole when you didn’t want to bother with your own clothes. He handed it to you, watching as your tired gaze shifted toward the shirt before flickering back to him.
“Can… can you help me take my dress off?” you muttered, barely audible, your voice tinged with exhaustion and the alcohol that still clouded your thoughts. You gave him those wide, pleading doe eyes that always managed to catch him off guard. Rafe inhaled sharply but quickly nodded. He’d seen you like this before—unguarded, your skin bare, but it never failed to stir something in him.
It wasn’t the sight of your skin that unsettled him; he was used to that. Over time, in this strange forced marriage, he’d grown accustomed to the intimacy of shared space, of your body in close proximity. It was the trust you displayed, the way you asked for his help now, that threw him off balance. You turned around, shifting your hair to one side, exposing the zipper of your dress.
Rafe reached for it, fingers grazing your back as he slowly pulled the zipper down, the fabric sliding easily off your shoulders. His eyes briefly flickered to the dress, a slight frown on his face—it was shorter than he liked, something he wasn’t thrilled about you wearing out. But now, as you stepped out of it, all he could think about was how fragile you looked.
You grabbed the shirt from his hands and pulled it over your head, the soft cotton falling past your thighs as you kicked off your heels with a relieved sigh. Rafe watched you for a moment longer before quietly guiding you toward the bathroom. He rummaged through the drawer, pulling out your toothbrush and squeezing toothpaste onto it before handing it to you. You brushed your teeth lazily, your movements growing slower as your eyelids drooped, exhaustion settling in.
Rafe stood by, waiting until you were done before helping you back to the bed. Just as your body sank into the soft sheets, ready to drift off into sleep, he lightly patted your cheek, keeping you from completely fading. "Uh-uh, gotta get that makeup off, or you'll throw a fit tomorrow morning," Rafe teased, reaching for the wipes on your vanity. You groaned in protest, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I won’t.”
“Yes, you will,” Rafe retorted, walking back over and sitting on the edge of the bed. He began gently wiping the makeup from your face, his touch careful and methodical. He had done this before, knew the routine, and though the task was mundane, there was an unspoken closeness in these moments that neither of you ever acknowledged.
He returned to the bed, sitting beside you as he carefully wiped away the layers of makeup. His touch was gentle, more considerate than you expected, his brow furrowed in concentration as he made sure to remove every trace. You gazed up at him through heavy lids, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin and the softness of his gestures.
When he was done, he moved to pull away, but your fingers curled around his wrist, stopping him. Rafe looked at you, confusion briefly crossing his face, but the intensity in your gaze softened him. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice tender, vulnerable in a way it rarely was. Your eyes drifted to his lips, your heart picking up speed as the moment stretched between you.
Rafe swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he nodded, his voice hushed. “Of course.” Without another word, you gently pulled him closer, closing the space between you. Your lips met his in a slow, tentative kiss—an action that felt more like a quiet confession than anything else. Rafe stiffened at first, but then his lips moved against yours, soft yet firm, as though the weight of the night had brought you both to this point.
But he pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching yours for something he wasn’t even sure of. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, pulling the sheets up to tuck you in. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a second longer than usual before he stood, leaving the room without another glance.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains as you slowly lifted your head from the pillow, a dull throb of pain radiating through your temples. You winced, squinting against the brightness as the events of the previous night came flooding back—Charlotte, the drinks, Rafe helping you to bed, and… the kiss.
You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets move beside you. Glancing over, you saw Rafe’s sleeping form, his features relaxed. He lay facing you, still half-asleep, though he must have sensed your movement because he mumbled groggily, “On your bedside table.”
You turned, spotting the glass of water and the medicine waiting for you. A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pounding in your head. Even when his words were rough, his actions showed a softness you were beginning to see more often.
You reached for the water and pills, the gesture not lost on you. As you downed the water, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, wondering if, beneath all the tension and complications between you, something deeper had started to bloom.
1K notes · View notes
arafilez · 7 months ago
Text
੭୧ ⼂ PRINCESS ﹗
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ー☆ㅤㅤ [ lmh x fem!reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤfluff 𓏧 being your enemy’s passenger princess is a dream that he likes it as much as you do ㅤ warnings drunk reader ﹢ 0.8k wc ㅤ𓏧ㅤ @sxmmerberries (beta)
“Why am I her emergency contact?” your friend’s boyfriend cowers under his pointed gaze and hastily explains how you did not have an emergency contact so he just dialled your most recent call. Halfway through that explanation your friend drunkenly starts kissing her boyfriend making that the cue for them to leave.
Minho looks at you, who has been suspiciously quiet the whole time before he sighs, accepting his fate and drags you to his car. His glares do nothing to soothe the ache in his heart as he softly places you down on the passenger seat and carefully tucks your legs in before attaching the seatbelt.
Closing the door, he moves to the other side, sets himself down on the driver’s seat and puts in your house location. As soon as he starts the car you mutter your first sentence for the night, “You really came.”
“Yes, you called me so,” he reasons, more to himself than with you, hating the pang in his heart formed at the thought of what if you had called someone else and not him. God, he would have hated it!
You giggle under the influence saying, “Do you know how many times I have dreamed of being your passenger princess?” His heart flutters at the sound of your light laugh filling the car making him bite back a smile as he asks, “Why?”
“Because you look hot driving,” your blatant voice makes him choke on air as he feels his face getting hotter at the compliment. Minho tries to focus on the road and less on his thumping heart as you continue blabbering, “I am so cliché, I like my enemy.” After a short breath you continue, “Will you tease me about this tomorrow? Well, that’s okay, I will just make myself believe.”
When you suddenly stop his eyes widen and he hastily asks before he can stop himself, “Believe what?”
“That you tease me because you like me, like those book-boys,” your eyes fix on his face and it takes him all his self-control to not look at you or he knows he will straight up crash.
“Passenger princess huh? You like being that?” he quickly changes the topic as the air around him gets hotter. He makes a mental note to get his car's air conditioner checked. Maybe it is malfunctioning.
You nod lightly, eyes hazily fixed on him, making him grip the steering wheel as if his life depended on it and say, “You always call me that to tease me, the joke’s on you, girls love being called a ‘princess’.”
“Do you now?” the teasing edge returns to his voice, his cocky demeanour coming back instantly. “Most do,” you say softly and add, “I would hate it so much if you called someone else that though.” Minho doesn’t know how he kept his sanity after that sentence leaves he knows but he somehow brings you to your apartment and stands in front of the door.
“Password,” he asks, making you giggle and flirtingly pointing at his chest, “To your heart?”
“To your home,” he deadpans but can’t help a lovesick smile take over his face as he watches you cutely stumble to put it in. The low light of the hallway accentuates your features and he finds himself blaming the high of the night for wanting to grab your face and kiss you right then and there.
When the door finally unlocks he carefully holds you and walks inside as he finds himself spilling, “You don’t need to worry about the heart you have already got that unlocked.”
“Have I?” your eyes widen in anticipation as you sling your arms around his neck looking up at him and Minho swears he never saw as many stars in the night sky as he did in your eyes that night.
“Yes, the day I realised you were borderline tolerable, I knew I was screwed,” he whispers back, eyes fleeting between your lips and your eyes before he sighs panting lightly. He somehow makes you drink a glass of water and you plop down on the bed, pulling you with him but he stays upright making you pout. Mustering all his self-control he goes to find a change of clothes in your closet.
He waits outside patiently and after what feels like almost twenty minutes he hears the door unlock as he enters, your hair is ruffled, and your face is puffy and warm from all the alcohol yet Minho finds himself fighting all his demons to not press his lips to yours.
When you finally plop down on the bed he pulls up the duvet to your chin and sighs saying, “I find drunk confessions awful, but I am here swooning over shit like this, so yes, I am stupidly in love with you, I guess.” Your eyes light up even in the haze of alcohol and sleep overtaking your features and he finds himself resisting to kiss you for the third time that night.
“Remember it till morning, for me,” he whispers to you lightly and prays silently that you will, before turning off the lights and saying one last sentence, “Sleep, my princess.”
Tumblr media
ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃ㅤ okay but to be minho's passenger princess asfsjsjejsl (divider my me) ㅤ𓏧ㅤ libraryㅤ skz shelfㅤ navi
Tumblr media
੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @gong-fourz @aaa-sia @yeosayang @weird-bookworm ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added
Tumblr media
ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)
2K notes · View notes
bruciemilf · 10 months ago
Text
I’m on the second episode of My Adventures With Superman and I KNOW I know, this deserves to be Clark’s show, BUT HEAR ME OUT A SECOND.
Imagine the Waynes didn’t die and Thomas is trying DESPERATELY to buy the Daily Planet from White, but to absolutely no avail.
“For the last time, Wayne, you can have this company when the Gotham Knights win a Stanley Cup.”
“Y’all cheated last year and you KNOW it, White! Come on! We knew each other for 20 years—“
“Not true.”
“You gotta have ONE nice thing to say about me! You saw my charity records? My trip to the Amazon? I found a goddam dinosaur, for Pete’s sake!”
“And you sent it to the Gotham museum.”
“…Well yeah, it looked real pretty.”
“Look, Wayne. I can either give your ego the stroke of the century, or keep Lane and those two idiot interns in check, but I can’t do both. Now get out of here, or—“
Clark clearing his throat, holding two cups of coffee in his comically large hands, “Uh, the coffee machine broke, so I had to run to the store. Is this a bad time?”
Thomas whistling, because what the FUCK. “Christ, boy, how tall are you? How tall is he, White? You a security guard? You WANNA be a security guard?”
“Uh, Clark Kent. Idiot intern,” Clark introduced himself politely despite Perry’s grumbling.
Needless to say, Thomas Wayne is…Intimidating.
“I’ve heard about your research on metahuman physics, Mr. Wayne. It’s brilliant.”
“Oh, that? That was all my boy, really. He’s got all these ideas about reinventing the healthcare system for everybody or something like that. Hell, he wants to invent some bandaids for that Superman fella. “
“That,” Clark blinked, “Actually sounds amazing.”
“Right?. The other day he came to me like, ‘Can I have 30,000 for a research expedition?’ You should’ve seen him in his little lab coat, — cutest thing. Hold on, I have pictures.”
Clark expected a particularly eccentric 10 year not, not a — gorgeous— adult man in what looked to be a great amount of eyeliner and one hell of a scowl. “He’s…” gorgeous, “He seems interesting.”
“Ain’t he? You should meet him sometime. Hates talking to the press, but, I’m sure we can arrange something. “
“Good luck with that. I tried interviewing the kid alone for 10 minutes and Mr. Wayne here kept getting in the way. Probably because he has something to hide.”
“Bruce ain’t really made for the camera, so I had to step in, ya know how it is. He ain’t really the independent kind.” Thomas shrugs. “I know, I know, — you gotta leave em to fly sometimes, and while I bet he’d look cute tryin’,”
Thomas chuckles, but it doesn’t sound amusing. At all. “No bird leaves MY nest.”
Clark finds out why Perry can’t prove Thomas Wayne is Batman. It’s because he’s wrong. He’s listened to Batman’s heartbeat before. And Thomas doesn’t stutter.
Bruce Wayne does, thought.
3K notes · View notes
clockwayswrites · 5 months ago
Text
Birb in a box Part 14
masterpost
By Thursday Danny was feeling much more human, or at least closer to human as he ever felt. Had tonight been anything more active than sitting in a seat and watching a ballet, Danny would have had to beg off. He figured this much he could manage. Besides, pushing it a little so not as to disappoint Cass on her big night was worth it. She was a sweet girl and Danny had the feeling that she could use more people celebrating her.
Not that Danny expected to actually see Cass that night beyond her time on the stage.
Still, Danny figured he should at least look the part of a ballet patron and dug the cobalt blue suit that he had gotten for Jazz’s wedding out of its bag in the back of his closet. He might as well be presentable, even if his hair never quite behaved. He kept it much shorter now, mostly so that it was out of the way, and hoped that tonight a shower and some hair gel would be enough. At least the little start shaped sapphire studs Tucker and Sam had gotten him for passing his dissertation looked good. (Bless his piercings never seeming to close fully up.)
A quick pat of his coat pockets to make sure he had everything and Danny was off. Gotham was thankfully quiet that night— or as quiet as Gotham ever was— and Danny even managed to catch an earlier connecting train. It left him enough time for a leisurely walk to the the opera house.
The lobby of the grand building was buzzing with excited patrons that Danny did his best to slip through. He really just wanted to find his seat. Which was apparently was upstairs and all the way down a hall that became narrower than expected as he continued. There was another ticket check, which Danny thought as odd until he realized as he passed by an open curtain that these were the theater’s box seats.
Which was odd.
Danny glanced down at his phone. Was he in the wrong place?
“Ah, Danny, I see you found us alright.”
Apparently not, because that was definitely Bruce Wayne’s voice. Yep, and that was Bruce Wayne himself, looking far too handsome in a deep grey suit. Danny really hoped he wasn’t blushing because damn did the man cut a dashing figure. A little part of Danny wanted to reach out and run his fingers across one of those impressively broad shoulders.
“I did,” Danny said, head ducked down slightly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant when you offered to get the ticket for me. I don’t mean to intrude on your family.”
Bruce chuckled and Danny felt he might melt a little. “Nonsense. It will be a relief to have another adult around.”
“Hey, some of us are adults!” Someone from in the booth said. A moment later Dick Grayson appeared with a large smile and wearing a suit that was the brightest magenta that Danny had ever seen.
“That remains to be seen,” Bruce said dryly, though his mouth was quirked in a smile.
His son ignored him.
“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson, Bruce’s oldest and totally an adult,” Dick said, offering his hand. “Bruce was practically a teen dad when he adopted me.”
“Please don’t spread rumors like that,” Bruce said with the long suffering sigh of a tired father.
“Luckily, I think it’s all pretty easy to fact check,” Danny said before he thought better of it and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you Dick, I’m Danny Fenton.”
“It’s good to meet you. I think Cass really liked meeting someone who could sign with her just out in the wild.”
“I just wish I wasn’t so rusty,” Danny said, feeling mildly embarrassed at the praise over his poor skills. “I’ll have to brush up on some things.”
“I’m sure that would mean a lot to her,” Bruce replied. “The family knows how to sign, of course, but sadly she isn’t so lucky mostly places. It’s nice for her to have others to talk to on days where her voice isn’t around.”
“I can only imagine. I wish that it was taught in schools. You’d think with all the advancement and proof of concept with baby sign language they would—” He cut himself off with a flustered little laugh. “Sorry, my sister is a behavioral psychiatrist with a two year old daughter. I get to hear a lot about things like baby sign language and color perception and the stages of personality growth.”
Luckily Bruce just laughed and motioned for Danny to enter the box. “A stage I’ve sadly missed with all my children. So your sister is another doctor Fenton in the family?”
“Fourth, actually. Both my parents are also Doctor Fentons. It’s five if you count my sister-in-law, but she kept her last name for publication reasons. I guess you looked me up if you know about my phd?” Danny wasn’t offended at that. If he had a daughter who befriended a random older man at work, he would sure as hell look them up too.
Bruce, however, smiled apologetically. “I asked Lucius about you. You’ve made quite an impression on him. He’s promised to have my head on a platter if I, or my horde of children, do anything to drive you away.”
Danny laughed at that and gratefully sunk into the seat that Bruce indicated. He was starting to feel the walk here now. “Knowing Lucius, he’d get it too. I think he always gets his way eventually, at least if my work-life balance has anything to say about it.”
“Not good at that?” Dick asked.
He sat down catty-corner to Danny. Danny turned carefully to look at him, ignoring the twinge in his back as best as he could. Danny would have shrugged if he thought he could have.
“Classic engineer with ADHD problems. I can lose track of time a little too easily.” Danny glanced to Bruce with a wry little smile. “Apparently WE is big on us not spending all our time at work.”
“Not really,” Bruce said with a little quirked smile. “You all work hard, but work shouldn’t be everything. It’s something that I’ve had to learn myself.”
“No kidding,” Dick said.
Bruce gave a little snort. “As if you aren’t as bad as I am.”
Dick just smiled serenely at his father before turning back to Danny. “No one for you to go home to then? No partner or pets?”
“Just too many plants,” Danny admitted. “One of my oldest friends is a botanist doing medical research and every time I see her I end up with another one. They’ve sort of taken over my apartment now that I’ve been in one place for a few years. Some of them are drama queens about getting watered, but I have a little system rigged up for the really thirsty ones. It helps if I need to be away for more than a day or two. And that is probably way more about my plants than you needed or wanted to know. Sorry.”
Bruce’s low rumble of a chuckle felt like it settled warmly in Danny’s chest. There was no way that he wasn’t blushing a least a bit now.
Why was Bruce affecting him so much? Yes, it had been a rather long time since Danny had been on a date much less more. Yes, Bruce was Gotham’s eternal most handsome bachelor, which wow does the city have that right. Yes, other than a handshake, Danny hadn’t touched another human since waking up in the still so weird cuddle pile of superheroes. Yes to all that, but really, Danny should not be blushing like a he was still in his twenties at a chuckle.
“It sounds to me like your friend picked the right person to give plants to. It’s obvious that you care for them,” Bruce said with a soft smile that Danny tried not to look at.
Danny glanced out over the edge of the balcony and down into the crowd. “Ah, well, I try. They’re living things, you know? They deserve the best chance I can reasonably give them.”
“A very nice way to look at it. I—”
“Shit,” Dick said suddenly, softly, and with conviction.
Danny twisted around quickly to look back at Dick, wincing as his back vehemently protested the motion.
“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “It’s just that it seems the elevator is down so Babs won’t be able to make it up here.”
“It’s down?” Bruce asked with a confused frown.
“Apparently. I’m going to go sit down on the ground floor with her,” Dick said. He tucked his phone into his coat as he stood. “Sorry for bailing on you, Danny. It was nice to meet you.”
“No, go, spare yourself anymore plant talk,” Danny joked at his own expense.
“If any of the others aren’t too settled, I’ll send them up,” Dick said to his father. “But you know how they are.”
“All too well,” Bruce said dryly.
Dick squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and vanished back through the curtain.
---
AN: This part had me real caught up for some reason, but hopefully it's all good (enough) now!
1K notes · View notes
with-my-calamitous-love · 6 months ago
Text
HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP
katsuki bakugou x reader
the times bakugou broke your heart
heavily inspired by mbobhft
Tumblr media
1) the denial
“are we breaking up?”
“…yeah.”
“oh.”
his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.
it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.
it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.
he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.
but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.
at first, it didn���t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.
at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.
you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.
right?
2) the anger
if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?
your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.
you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.
you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.
and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.
he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.
but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.
he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.
3) the bargaining
please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?
you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.
suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.
4) the depression
everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.
you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.
it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.
5) the acceptance
acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.
part 2 soon!
2K notes · View notes
indecisivemuch · 11 months ago
Text
Lovesick & Lovelorn
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).
Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.
Word count: 3.3k
You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn. 
Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.
At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.
Hence, the letters.
In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.
You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.
“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.
“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.
“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.
“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.
After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.
As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”
“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”
“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.
Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.
“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”
“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.
Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.
Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.
You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.
The box…where is the box?
You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.
“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.
“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.
“Yes, that one.”
“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”
Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.
“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.
“Listen, Luke—”
“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.
“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.
“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”
“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.
“Nope.”
“...So we’re ok?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.
“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”
“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.
“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.
“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.
You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.
“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.
However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.
You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.
You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading: 
‘Dear Y/N,
This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.
You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer. 
Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.
I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.
You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:
The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.
2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.
The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.
It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.
Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.
I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you. 
In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it. 
It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.
Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.
If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.
Sincerely,
Luke Castellan’
Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.
“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.
“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.
Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.
“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.
“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.
“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.
“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.
“Can I kiss you?”
This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips. 
Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids. 
You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.
You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.
--------------------
masterlist
Join my Luke Castellan taglist
taglist: @nininehaaa @perseus-jackass @tanifsblog @bubbly0 @hinata7346
3K notes · View notes
stars-in-a-jam-jar · 9 months ago
Text
I don't think Buddy asks Helio any questions.
Kristen asked 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' because she believed in all the good things she was taught, but noticed the strange disconnect between the world as it was and the world as it was taught to her. So she thought, surely, if I can't come up with the answer, Helio will have it. And she hates him for dodging her question.
Buddy is far more deluded than Kristen ever was. And he is far, far angrier inside as a result, even if he deliberately conceals this fact from himself to protect himself from the inevitable mental breakdown this would cause. Buddy is not as altruistic and giving and caring as Kristen is. He wouldn't question why he was betrayed or dig into a question like 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' Those aren't the answers he needs, because of course he'd be betrayed by someone outside the church, that makes perfect sense. Of course bad things happen to good people, we simply live in a fallen world.
Or, well. He used to live in a fallen world. Now he's dead here. In Helio's divine domain.
I think Buddy, as he wanders through fields of corn to the big farmhouse where Helio is chilling out, privately thinks about the fact that Kristen Applebees' horrified expression was the last thing he ever saw before a sharp pain in his throat. I think Buddy assumes Helio knows he's thinking this and apologizes for bringing thoughts like that into paradise. I think he thanks Helio for recognizing his devotion and bringing him here once he died and dutifully deceives himself about his own rising emotions at contending with the fact that he's dead now.
After all, he was raised to die. He was raised to want to die.
To want to be here with his god whenever it was he called Buddy to him. So he doesn't feel upset, no, of course not. He's just a little surprised at how sudden it was. (How completely random. How unceremonious and unfair.) He's a little bit worried how his grandparents would react to the news is all. (He cracks a joke that maybe he'll see them here shortly after they do get the news. He doesn't laugh at it.) He had his own plans for how he'd spread the good word in life, but of course, Helio had other plans. (Nothing Buddy ever wanted really mattered. He knew that, he knew the will of Helio was the real thing that mattered, and everything else was just a small list of preapproved extracurriculars in the syllabus of his life.)
He can't be upset about this.
He shouldn't be upset about this.
This is his reward.
This place and these people and this god are his reward for a life of service and devotion and walking in the light.
It's not his place to be upset about his own reward. Kristen got upset when she went to heaven, when she met Helio, and look where that got her.
Look... look where that got her.
He thinks he hates her. For looking at him like that. All the ways she looked at him. Like he was something pitiful and contemptible. Someone she needed to threaten away from her little brother. Someone she has to double and triple check if he's going to revive her when he's under magical oath to do just that or lose his connection to a divinity she threw away after being chosen.
And then. In that last moment, she looked at him and he saw grief and horror and caring. Like his death was awful and unfair and tragic.
And he thinks maybe he hates her for that. For challenging him every conversation they had and looking at him like she knew something he didn't. Like she was above him. Like killing your own god twice in life is a preferable fate to living for the promise of eternal sunlight and cornbread in death. A promise which was kept to him.
Kristen was promised to Helio, too.
And he can't unsee her face. He can't move along and focus on what truly matters (Helio, the church, spreading the word, doling out divine punishment when needed) because he's reached the end. There is nothing left. Only this bright sunny cornfield and a god who... is nice. And who cares about him, personally. He got Buddy's name wrong the first and only time they held audience.
He thinks he hates Kristen, and he hates that that hatred isn't immediately squashed out of his soul just by being here. In paradise. Where he belongs. Where every follower of Helio belongs. Where he never has to have anyone look at him the way Kristen did ever again.
I don't think Buddy Dawn asks Helio any questions. Because how do you ask the god you devoted every waking minute of your life to, 'Why do I hate it here? Why does this feel like hell?'
(There's a part 2 now that the next ep is out >:3)
2K notes · View notes
baambied · 24 days ago
Text
୨୧ 𝖳𝖶𝖮'𝖲 𝖡𝖤𝖳𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖮𝖭𝖤
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
cw. nsfw threesome cursing. strap(reader!rec) clit play abby cums untouched masterbation(abby) abby's lowk a perv reader described to have kinky curly hair
m.list
dom!ellie × sub!reader × inexperienced!abby
Tumblr media
ellie wasn't a stupid girl, very smart, very observant, especially when it came to things she liked..so how could she not notice how her best friend abby acted around her beloved girlfriend anytime she'd bring her over their apartment, the stuttering, the red rosy cheeks on abbys freckled face...of course ellie noticed...anyone with a brain would.
but it did confuse ellie, last time she checked, abby was straight..she was literally in a two year relationship with some guy named owen (who was an absolute dick and abby broke up with months ago but still), and it seemed like abby liked him...atleast from ellie point of view...and abby never seemed to have any attraction towards any women.
now what ellie wasn't aware of is how abby was only with owen just so she could get rid of those stupid butterflies that appeared in her stomach when she was around a pretty girl...what ellie didn't know is that anytime ellie would come to the gym with her on their days off abby's eyes couldn't leave ellie form sometimes resulting is abby's underwear getting a little to sticky though she'd never admit that to anyone.
little did ellie know owen couldn't get abby off for shit..she'd have to watch some type of lesbian porn after owen left the apartment just to feel relieved and to stop yearning sensation between her thighs.
and what ellie didn't know is that...abby REALLY wanted to fuck her girlfriend...you..
she remembers the first time she saw- well heard you with ellie at their apartment...not a moment she particularly proud of...
abby walked through the door stumbling over pairs of shoes that weren't hers as she had just got back from work, a scowl on her face as she muttered curses at her ungrateful coworkers..it wasn't a good day all she wanted to do was get her sweaty clothes off and take a warm shower than sleep her ass off.
she stopped for a moment, putting her bag down, her eyes examining the shoes on the entrance floor... Mary Jane's? when the fuck did ellie wear Mary Jane's???
she walked deeper into the apartment, frown evident on her tired face did ellie have someone over?? this thought slightly annoyed abby...ellie could have gave her a heads up.
as abby turned the corner going into the hall where her and ellie's bedroms sat, that's when she heard it.
gasping? no
loud...breathing? yes but no
this lead to abby standing in front of ellie's door, her eyes wide, cheeks a bright red and mouth slightly agaped as her ears took in the live sound of basically porn behind it, she has only heard a girl moan through her phone..not in real life..
she leaned closer, wanting to get a better listen
and oh boy, did she think whoever was moaning- having the time of their life behind this door sounded so fucking pretty...
next thing she knew, she was laying on her bed, faced down on the side of it, hips frantically moving against the corner on the bed as if she was a dog in heat, her teeth gritting as she tried her best to be quiet, low whines escaping once in awhile when she got to sensitive.. hands fisting up her white sheets eagerly..drool on the side of her cheek as her hips buckled faster, the frabic of her underwear along with the bed sheets rubbing against her wet, sticky pulsing pussy kept on by punishment,she could feel herself clenching around nothing as she went faster...she knew what she was doing was weird....probably even perverted...i mean who the fucks gets off to their best friend fucking some girl?
well, abby did - does...
this week long never ending cycle continued, abby coming home from work, stressed out...pent up...and to hear the beautiful breathy noises that escaped ellie's room seemed to make it worse for her but somehow some fucking way she'd always ended up in her bed with a hand down her pants.
she had meant you face to face one day which had only fueled her hunger for you more.
abby was sitting on the couch, leaning in it lazingly while typing in a laptop with a small frown on her face, all this work for one fucking project? not only was her job kicking her ass but her college work was too, and suddenly she heard pattering of bare feet coming from the hallway..the scowl on her face deepend at the thought of ellie coming in the living room to bother her with nonsense.
"ellie, if you're gonna show me another one of those weird colorful worms you drew that you claim looks like jesse, I'm really not in the mood for it" abby's almost annoyed but tired voice called out, slightly rolling her eyes in the process.
"uh..no..just left my waterbottle.."
abby face frowned deeper at the unfamiliar voice, she snapped her head around and looked to the hallway..her eyes widened and mouth slowly open.
when did ellie have a girl over- were you here the entire time?!?
what the fuck?
abby's eyes looked around your figure, your hair nicely styled as if it hadn't been touched since you did it, you wore what it looked like one of ellie's oversized- wait ...no...abby's hoodie that ellie basically stole from her on...you...abby's cheeks flushed at that little detail and her eyes finally land at your legs...bare...the hoodie was big enough to fit you like a dress..
"uhhhhhhhh ah uhhh" abby's awkwardly- stupidly voice came out in response
you gave her a sweet smile and walked over to the couch she was sitting at, abby's eyes widened face pink as she looked at you... her back, suddenly straightening and her mouth open, ready to stutter out a question, but all you reach at is the counter next to the couch , grabbing a light pink water bottle.
"sorry uhh abby is it? ellie told me about you...." you state all smiley as you held your pink water bottle, fingers moving over the metal as you observed abby who looked like the most awkward person ever "well...uh goodnight.." you finished yourself sounding a little awkward as abby hadn't said anything in response, who stepped away and swiftly turned around to the hallway, making your way to ellie's room once more.
abby could hear the door close, followed by the sound of ellie's faint voice asking, "Why'd you take s' long'
abby gulped hardly as her eyes stared glued at the spot you once stood, you were so.....cute...not only did abby find your moans absolutely beautiful to the point she could get off on them alone...she found you beautiful...and wanted nothing more than to get you off.
and now here abby stands once again...infront of ellie's closed door, inside her mouth gently biting off her cheek flesh.. face flushed and painted a dusty pink as her ears ate up the lude sounds that came from behind the door.
all she wanted to do was ask ellie if she was hungry - it was finally friday and abby had planned to order chinese and in her mind she recalls ellie munching on a bag of lays chips eailer complaining about no more chicken in the freezer to make for dinner eailer in the day..now it was about 9pm.
abby felt waves of different emotions taking over her body, embarrassment, nervousness....even slightly excited...but also guilt since she left the food place worker on her phone in the living room- wasn't her fault she planned to quickly ask ellie what she wanted and get back to them to order it...but now abby stood still ..almost frozen...
a shaky breath left her throat as her muscular arm raised up before fastly knocking on the door
"h-hey...ellie do you want....chinese...food" abby's voice increasingly getting lower with each word that escaped her throat...the sounds didn't stop if anything they got louder..for a second abby wondered if the phone operator could also hear from the living room table..abby gulped slowly...she could feel her knees buckling as she raised her voice again "ellie the chinese food is- i meant do you want - fuck!"
now abby was just annoyed, not because of how pent up she was beginning to feel from the sounds escaping from behind the door but also because she was fucking hungry, and she was being kind enough to pay for ellie's meal- who couldn't stop for a second to open the door.
really, how horny could she be? (as if she's one to judge)
without thinking abby's rough hand gripped the door knob and she threw it open, the sounds becoming more clear to her ears in an instant
"ellie! i- ..." abby's words were quickly stopped once she caught the sight infront of her she tried to look away but...god...
ellie and you hadn't seemed to notice abby's figure by the now opened door...you two were pre-occupied...there on ellie's bed with twisted up savage starlight blankets laid you, your face buried head first in a pillow as you hips was perched up in the air, abby could notice the sweat on your skin and your slightly shaky body...behind you ellie's hips snapping rapidly and roughly, her tattooed hand slithered between your thighs.
abby's nostrils now filled with the smell of sex and sweat..she felt like her throat would close up at any moment from the sight infront of her..her knees buckling the tingling feeling in her stomach now landing between her thighs.
abby - to caught up in her own thoughts didn't realize ellie's mouth moving..seemingly saying something to you, her own ears blocking out any sound from the room.
"abby...abby - please- abby!"
slowly as if abby's consciousness came back she heard her name...not someone calling out to her......but someone..saying her name continously almost to themselves..like a prayer...and it just so happen...to be the beautiful moans abby was obsessed with.
wide eyes and blazing cheeks, abby felt like she needed to pass out, lightheaded
why were you moaning her name?
ellie's green eyes stared at abby's figure intently her hip movements slowing down, she observed abby's shocked face with a small smirk on her face..slightly out of breath ellie leaned down to you...fingers brushing your hair out the way to catch your ear.
"look at her, you got her all shy huh?" ellie whispered into your ear but loud enough for abby to hear..you let out a soft moan as your face leaned deeper into ellie's blankets.
your body suddenly flinching as you let out a yelp when you felt ellie's palm roughly meet your ass "turn your fucking head and look at her" ellie roughly states..her words coming out as a demand you couldn't ignore..slowly you turned your head..and abby's eyes meant your face...your worn out face
god you looked a mess
a beautiful mess
your pretty kinky curls all in your face, spit coating your mouth and cheek,pretty pink swollen lips.. rough breathes, escaping your throat as your teary eyes meant her's.
abby's knees buckled at the sight of your face, the pulsating between her legs growing stronger...hunger for food disappearing and replaced with a hunger for something else.
"fucking slut ..right?" ellie's voice snaps abby's gaze towards her...abby taking in ellie's naked figure, her chest her muscular arms on your waist...toned stomach...waist...holy shit..
"huh-" abby choked out
"she has her girlfriend's cock inside her, yet she's moaning out someone else's name.." you moan out loudly at ellie's words, your own hips moving earning another slap on your ass "don't fucking move"
ellie's eyes goes to abby once more who still stared at her...well..stared at her lower region instead.
"just gonna stand there abs..? i know how much you spent your time with your hands down your pants thinking about fucking my own girlfriend" abby's eyes went wide as i sudden panic waved into her, her stuttering words coming out in "i-i dont- i" she knew ellie was right..so embarrassingly right...
"sit on the bed, abby." ellie interrupted the stuttering girl, abby could tell ellie's sentence was a demand..which caused her to breathe deeply, slowly stepping near the bed, hands sweaty and shaky at her sides.
abby didn't know how or why this happened, but what she certainly knew was that the food operator was definitely not on her phone anymore.
abby sat at the edge of the bed, she could feel her hips softly moving in an attempt to gain some sort of friction, and she could feel how shaky her legs had become...it had been probably 13 minutes...you were in a different position now...on top of ellie riding her as if she would disappear any second but yet...the words that came out your mouth had abby's named mixed into them...abby considered this as some sort of punishment for her perverted behavior for the last 2 weeks...how she had to just sit here and watch, abby swore if she laid a finger on her cunt she'd cum right on the spot.
she could feel ellie's eyes on her...ellie who leaned against the bed frame, chest breathing rapidly up and down at your movements on top of her but yet she kept her composer...or atleast tried to..
...her freckled face pink as her half lidded eyes stated at abby...she could tell how this affected abby.....her body language...she can even see abby's hips move against the bed...she looked like a sad puppy who wanted nothing more than to be touched which ellie wasn't giving her...or wasn't allowing to give her either.
and in all honesty, you did feel like a slut....you remembered when you first saw abby the time you left your waterbottle in the living room...your eyes drifting around...her buff arms...thick thighs..you thought she was pretty...and you told ellie that obviously..
and those little words you muttered about her bestfriend somehow led to this..you desperately riding your girlfriends strap while abby watched from behind.
"wanna touch her?" ellie's breathy voice called out to abby who almost looked liked she was entranced by your movements, she almost couldn't register what ellie said to her..her eyes blinking slowly as she looked to ellie, desperation in her eyes just like the desperation was fluid in your body language.
"touch her..she wants it.." ellie's voice mumbles as she looked up at you on top of her, one of her hands running up your sweaty chest gripping your breast as her thumb rubbed against you nipple causing your body to shudder "e-els - plea-"
"no baby..not my name...beg to her....not me"
you hummed as your hips buckled, you needed to be fucked...you just couldn't do it yourself..ellie knew this.
"el- abby..please i- i need it.." your words caused abby's slick cunt to clench around nothing, a soft moan even leaving her throat..almost whining...abby has never felt this turned on before and it was so fucking exhilarating.
slowly abby made her way closer, knees dipping on the bed...her eyes staring at your back as it the sight of it came closer with each movement.
abby sat on her knees in front of your back...her shaky hands - fingers slowly moving to your hips..when you felt her touch you immediately leaned back into her, your head on her shoulder..abby softly gasped as her hands froze...your head turned to her ear...she could hear the shaky breaths escaping your mouth
"ab - abby please.."
"fuck.." abby nervously breathed out, her underwear soaked and sticky as she tried to avoid the feeling.
"stop being a pussy and rub her clit - she's been a good girl" ellie's hand caressed your cheek, going to your lips, her green eyes glancing between you and abby "she deserves to cum.."
abby tried to shake her nerves as her hand from your hip slowly began to reach in between your thighs, she could feel your body tremble..were you nervous too?
lost in thought she missed how ellie buckled her hips up causing a loud moan to release from your throat...for a second abby wished she was the one with the strap to fuck you...she want to see your pretty cunt squeezing around the silicone....she wanted to make you cum so hard like she did when she got herself off from your moans weeks ago.
finally, abby's hand reaches your pulsing clit...sticky and wet as her finger pads rolled against your swollen bud gently, rubbing in tight circles.
you moved your head deeper in between abby's neck, muffling your whines at her touch, your hips buckled as you felt ellie slowly begin to thrust up into you, you were close to coming undone before but just to feel abby's hand between your thighs giving you such pleasure that felt so heavenly...you felt like you could cum in seconds...
ellie's hips grew faster, roughly snapping up... the silicone going in and out of you in a sloppy - wet pace, she could feel your juices running down your legs to her waist...some of it even creating a little puddle combined with sweat "hmm love this pretty wet cunt - doing so good for us baby" ellie's words making you even more needy, the praise going to your pretty little head as you moaned louder.
the sounds you made only made ellie go faster as soft grunts escaped her mouth, her green eyes glued to abby's fingers that circled your clit, sometimes snapping to your chest, she loved having the view of your tits moving with her rapid movements.
"you like her touching you? hm? you like it better don't you..." ellie's words asked breathlessly as she teased you.
"i- please ellie i need-"
your words cut off by a harsh slap on your thigh, you yelped in pleasure at the feeling, thighs shaking, which only caused ellie to smirk.
abby's hips twitched as the pulsating in between her legs got stronger...small whines leaving her pink lips as she moved her fingers against your bud faster , other hand reaching over your stomach holding you..she felt like she would cum in her underwear with the way your moans entered her ears.
the way your body moved due to ellie fucking you, the way she could sometimes feel your lips on the side of her upper neck when you leaned in farther...to be honest abby felt like she could pass out...her mind still had yet to accept the current situation..
now - suddenly all four of abby's fingers pressed down on your cunt, she could hear you gasp at her action.
"p-please, i wan' it - please-" your words coming out in sentences, ellie or abby couldn't quite understand... not that it mattered.
"gonna cum baby? gonna cum on my dick?"
ellie's sentence could barely finish when your sudden loud moan teared through your body, echoing against the walls of her room..abby could feel your pussy pulsating against her fingers..she let out a loud whine and buried her head in your shoulders, her cunt clenching as she could feel her underwear get more soaked within seconds, hips twitching rapidly as she held you tighter, tears even stinging her eyes..feeling all of this sent her brain into a frenzy.
"oh - oh fuck...shit"
ellie could feel your legs twitching against her's, your body falling forward out of abby's grasp, head leaning against ellie's naked chest..body shaking as ellie's hands wrapped around you...one hand softly rubbing and tangling in your hair...mumbling endless amounts of praise in your ears...saying you did so good.
abby slowly sat down on the bed, readjusting her position and laying back, shaky breaths leaving her body..she could still feel her hips twitching from her recent orgasm.
once abby's caught her breath , her mind seemed to finally register what just occured...and all the girl could think was.
what the fuck?
Tumblr media
slightly rushed ngl
808 notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 1 year ago
Text
BATTLE SCARS
Tumblr media
Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist
What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.
sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming
words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)
a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me
Tumblr media
"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."
Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.
One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.
One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?
And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?
"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"
The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"
"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 
Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.
Huh.
So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?
"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."
Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"
"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."
He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.
"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."
Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."
You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.
Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?
When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.
Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."
"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."
"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."
He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."
"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.
You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.
Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.
The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.
You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.
You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."
His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.
So it really was about you.
His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"
Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"
He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.
"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.
"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.
You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.
His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.
The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.
Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.
He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.
"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.
A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.
But sleep didn't want you.
About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.
He hummed in response.
"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.
He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 
"Anything."
"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."
From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"
"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."
Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."
He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"
You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.
There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.
"Y-Your scar."
You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"
His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."
Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.
As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.
"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."
His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"
You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."
Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"
You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."
He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"
"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."
Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"
He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."
He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."
You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"
His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.
Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.
"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"
His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.
"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.
Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.
You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.
"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."
A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.
"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."
You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"
You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.
"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"
Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.
"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."
"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."
Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.
You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.
You smiled.
Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.
"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.
"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."
It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?
You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.
"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.
"You're.... you're more pretty."
You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"
He shook his head.
"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”
The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."
"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."
"Good."
You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.
Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.
"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.
You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.
You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.
"Do you want to taste me?"
He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."
You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.
"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.
You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."
You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.
A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.
"Who said you could touch yourself?"
His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.
“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.
"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."
You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.
"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.
You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.
You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.
It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.
"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.
“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."
He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.
"Keep your eyes on me."
He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.
You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.
Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.
"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"
He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.
You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.
"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.
And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.
You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"
"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."
You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."
The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."
Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.
"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.
For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"
You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"
"I-I..."
"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"
"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 
You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."
"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.
You smiled.
"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.
He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.
Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.
"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.
You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."
His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.
You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.
"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"
His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.
That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.
The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.
Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.
You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.
Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.
"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.
The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.
4K notes · View notes
aklaustaleteller · 7 months ago
Note
heyy how are you! i have this idea that wont leave my head, the reader is scared of love and runs away from it and keeps pushing anyone that tries anything away, but klaus does everything to prove to her that his intentions are pure, and after he does with a little while, she find out about him being a hybrid (maybe she gets really scared) and he has to grovel his way into her life
Mendable Inside Your Ribs
Tumblr media
Y/n, all her life, had reached for love and then felt her white-knuckled dying grip on it slip. Then suddenly, Klaus comes in her life looking like the light at the end of the tunnel – and maybe, just maybe, their monsters have more in common than they originally thought.
Warnings - Mentions of animalistic urges, monstrosity, blood, wounds and bruises but it's all in a metamorphic manner (well, except for the blood)
Word Count - 3.2k
Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!
Finally, Anon, I'm posting your request! I'm so sorry I took so long, but I truly hope that you find the wait worth it once you're done reading this! I could've written this in an entirely different and simpler manner, but I was already half-way through it already written it in a poetic/metamorphic way, so I hope you guys still enjoy it for I am quite proud <3 Please do tell me if you do!
Tumblr media
Y/n, all her life, had reached for love and then felt her white-knuckled dying grip on it slip. So many times had it happened that now she was found sat with her hair tangled, dried blood and dirt on her face and inside her nails with crooked teeth, clawing at her own skin sitting in a corner, rocking herself back and forth to comfort herself as she saw love creeping towards her with a smile so sinister that it could make shivers run down the devil’s spine. 
From her parents shaming her for wanting something so simple as love, to her romantic partners who’d always stumble a couple steps back upon realising just how hungry she was for love – how animalistic she could get just for an ounce of it. 
All of it turned her into a person as cold as a tombstone standing over a dead person’s grave, unfeeling and unmoving.
But when she would feel, it felt like her own heart was pushing her head under the water, holding her in there until she had only one more breath left in her. It made her want to snarl and to hiss, to bite and to claw at the person who made her heart leap out of her chest. 
Which would then make her turn and run the other way as fast as her feet could carry her, back to the corner where she belonged. Sometimes she would raise her head and look at the walls inside of her, reading the numbers she had madly tally-marked on them to keep track of just how many days she had kept herself chained there. And somewhere along the passing time, she’d begun defeatedly losing count.
Yet as she sat in that very corner and raised her head this time, she saw something bright. Almost like a light at the end of the tunnel. So she’d gotten forward on her hands and moved on her knees, curiosity pulling her forward until she reached the border which she’d have to cross to get to the other side. 
And that’s when she saw him standing there – Klaus Mikaelson. Smiling down upon her like she was the cutest lamb he’d ever come across, instead of falling backwards because he actually saw the love-hungry animal that she was. 
So, she had taken it upon herself to back off, and ran away from him. But horror crept over her and held her tight when she saw that he had followed her back inside, back to her corner where she resided. 
“Love,” she heard him whisper as he brought his open hands in front of him, wanting her to place her own calloused ones in them and come with him. 
But she never did, always turning away with a growl so that he’d leave. But every time she’d look his way to check if he’d finally left, she’d find him still standing there, with that same smile and those same open arms. 
“Go away, Klaus,” she said coldly, looking away so her dead eyes wouldn’t have to witness hurt flash through his starry eyes. 
He wanted nothing more than for her to see herself the way he saw her. Wanted for her to know that he was the one who’s undeserving of her love, actually. He was the animal here, not her.
But she profusely denied all of his pleas and begs, holding herself strictly uptight so that she wouldn’t fall into pieces upon him and crush him under the weight of all her grief, anger and tragedy. 
He just couldn't seem to get through to her, no matter how hard he tried. So he just decided to remain persistent, and show her how truly pure his intentions are via small acts. Like buying her gifts that he knew would matter to her, such as those small plants that never grow, or random postcards that he knew she put up on her walls, or books that he’d annotated for her to get her to take a glimpse into the way he saw her.
But sometimes, those acts got rather intimate. Like that time he brushed her hair for her for a week long when she had broken her wrist, or that night when he took her feet in his lap to massage them gently after she’d given her best performance on stage. Hell he’d even gone as far as to cook for her on especially hard nights so that he could feed her his love. 
And maybe he was just growing delusional now, but he was beginning to feel like she was taking down her walls around him brick by brick. She no longer glared at him with those ice cold eyes when he would enter into a close proximity to her, nor did she sneer at him to go away. 
Instead, he saw her eyes grow a little wider when he’d enter the same room as her, the dead stare tucking itself away for other people as some life took a dive in her eyes. And he heard a lullaby in her voice when she’d greet him back, her body turned towards him and eyes on him to give him all of her attention.
That’s how he knew that he had brought her away from that corner and back to the very border, again. And he also knew that he now had to tread carefully so that she wouldn’t go back, tumbling away from him. 
And Klaus didn’t know if the Salvatore brothers telling her all about the supernatural world, about who The Klaus Mikaelson was, was his fault or not. 
But what he did blame himself for, was for lowering his guard when he’d brought her just one step away from crossing the border and loosened his grip on her because the moment she was told about his past, not only did she go fumbling back but she also left crescent moons dug in his shoulders from when she’d been shaking him, sobbing loudly and crying out for him to tell her that all of it wasn’t true.
But Klaus couldn’t lie to her, so he’d stood frozen with tears spilling from his eyes as she ran back to her corner, tally-marking another day after so long that her eyes had taken a moment to adjust to the darkness that surrounded her again, this time, more like an evilly laughing capturer instead of holding her in it’s arms like a pitiful mother. 
Y/n awoke this morning with her eyes puffed up, it happened every time she went to sleep exhausted out of her mind. And as the flashes of last night began reeling through her mind again, her eyes grew moist and her vision grew blurry while she climbed down the stairs to go into the kitchen. 
Grabbing a glass of water she chugged it down, leaning over the sink and mumbling to herself that everything was fine, that she was fine. Her eyes remained shut but tears slipped out regardless, sniffling sounds echoing through her house as she tried not to retain any of the information that had been dumped on her. 
“He’s a …hybrid,” Stefan had said, looking at her through his lashes like he was talking to a child about how tooth fairies aren’t real.  
“And what’s that?” She asked, a feeling in her gut telling her that it was, in no way, a sweet creature. 
“He’s half vampire, and half werewolf,” Damon finished saying behind her. 
Breath was knocked out of her lungs at that. She’d always had her suspicions about some certain people surrounding her, like Stefan and Damon themselves, but never once had she felt anything remotely scary when Klaus would stand in front of her. 
Perhaps it was because of his big starry eyes, and those unruly blonde curls that he kept trimmed for some reason. Or those dimples that would shy away from her gaze and that mouth which would always stretch into a smile upon her sight. Or, those hands that held her so gingerly, and those feet that held the weight of her body as he carried her home. 
And maybe it was the fact that he’d never once told her about this himself, that hurt the worse. He had lied to her, or kept the truth from her, dare she say to defend his honour. But it felt like a punch square in the chest when she learned about the blood that stained his hands, his clothes, his face and his mouth. 
Despite that horrifying revelation, she had run straight to his home and shouted at him to come outside. And the moment he had, she was pushing and shoving at him, putting her hands on his shoulders and shaking him, crying – “tell me they are lying! Tell me that you aren’t what they say you are, that you have no blood on your hands!” 
“Tell me!” She had broken down, resting her head on his chest as she let out the sobs. 
“Tell me this wasn’t your intention!” She shook him again and Klaus had opened his mouth to agree with her, but she had fallen to her knees then, looking up at him with tears staining her cheeks and blood swirling in her eyes. 
“Please don’t take me home,” she had told him despite the hot tears streaming down her face and fog settling in her mind. “I can never go home now,” she whispered, scared. 
Home was something that was supposed to be a constant in one's life, that one returned to every single day. And there hadn’t been anything like that for her until Klaus. And now that the shelter of his frame had been uprooted and thrown away, cold rain scraped at her skin all over again as she scrambled around to find her corner to go back to. 
She didn’t want that corner to be her home but time and time again, it was proven to her that it was – whether she liked that or not. 
Taking deep breaths to gather herself, Y/n went back up to her room to get ready for the day – knowing that all she was going to do was read and write and water her dying plants and maybe bake some biscuits that she was never going to get Klaus to taste now. 
And just as she came back to make her first cup of tea, she heard a hissing sound and turned to see a paper that had been folded into half. It had been slipped in through the crack underneath the door. 
She picked it up and opened it, immediately recognising Klaus’ handwriting. 
Y/n,
I know I’ve wounded you deeply by keeping who I truly am from you. But spending so much time with you, I’d somehow mistaken myself to be just the Klaus Mikaelson that you saw. I'm the one who’s wrong at that part, forgive me for it. I never meant to lie to you, perhaps, I was waiting for the right time. But it’s never the right time, is it? I’ve learned that now. 
And while I’m sure the brothers told you enough, I’d still like to introduce myself to you all over again. This time, by laying all my defences down. I should’ve said it then and there, but something came over me and I couldn’t form words. But I hope you’d believe me when I tell you that hurting you was not my intention – it’s something far far away from what I truly do intend. 
My family is hosting a traditional ball tonight. Please save this sick lover of yours a dance. And, you need not fret for I have brought you a dress, come outside? 
Yours truly,
Klaus
A deep weight rested itself on top of Y/n’s chest as she slowly walked towards her door, and opened it. She’d been expecting to see Klaus, but instead there was a box on her porch with a silk bow resting on top of it. She sat down and brought it to her lap, opening it to reveal a blue dress, folded neatly inside the box. 
She knew she was going – there was no doubt about that. But what did gnaw at her, was the chance of what would happen when she’d get there. She wanted to accept the feeling that told her he wouldn't hurt her. And yet, a tremor coursed through her body as she sat and sipped on her tea, waiting for the evening to roll around. 
She wanted for him to unleash himself and show her who he truly is, so that she can love him for him. She didn’t want to fall in love with just his bruised upper skin – no. She wanted to get to know him, inside and out. Wanted to know what his guts found intimidating and what his soul found peaceful. 
But if he wasn’t going to show her that, then nothing could ever make her clean herself up and rid herself of all the wounds that had been inflicted upon her, so that she doesn’t bleed on him from the cut that he didn’t inflict. She had a feelling that maybe, just maybe – there monsters had more in common than they thought they had. 
There must be a reason behind the blood tainting his skin, perhaps, it was thrust upon him for all she knew! Maybe he didn’t want to be the monster that he had been turned into. 
And if that’s true, Y/n wondered if she would still want to unravel him if it turned out that he was just a monster that had no other driving force apart from some personal fun. 
So she dressed herself up for the night. Prepared to listen to him and ask him questions if he wouldn’t have answered them already in his explanation. 
Entering the mansion that she always ran far away from, Y/n took a huge breath before wandering her eyes around to search for the one and only. And It didn’t take long before their eyes locked, with him already looking at her with rather guilty eyes and a relieved smile for she had shown up. 
Walking to her, Klaus took in a shaky breath as he fixed his suite. He was nervous, hell, scared even. Honestly, terrified that tonight might be the final time he would see her and the final memory he’d have of her would be of her sprinting away from him for she couldn’t bear the sight of the ugly monster he had ended up growing into. 
“You came,” Klaus smiled, looking at her with those same starry eyes except tonight they were shining because of the sheen layer of tears glossing them up. 
“You asked me to,” she shrugged faintly, her mouth cold to sight but her eyes were big and almost smiling up at him. 
With her hand still in his’ from when he had bent down to kiss the back of it, Klaus walked her over to the vacant balcony – nothing to witness the tragedy but the sky that had itself gotten dressed in its best constellations and ornament, the moon.
Klaus wanted to believe his heart when it told him that she would listen to him and try to love him, but his head’s juxtaposition was not gentle. It prepared him for the worst, reminding him of how no one had ever loved him before, and no one would now. For all that was true, he had only gotten worse over time. 
“To hurt you, was never my intention,” he whispered, his big eyes looking into hers. 
“It is true that I am a Hybrid – a vampire and a werewolf. It is also true that I’m covered in blood from head to toe, from my bones to my skin, I am drenched in it.”
His legs were growing jittery and breathing was becoming harder to do than it should be. But his hold on her hand only tightened, tears collecting on his bottom lash line. 
“It is true that I am a monster. One with a heart that doesn’t beat and a soul that feasts upon the love it never gets,” with his free hand, Klaus wiped the tear as it slipped down the slope of his cheek. 
She only stood still in front of him, urging him with her eyes to go on. Her own breathing ragged as she began seeing him and listening to him
“But I need you to know, before you leave tonight,” his voice shook as he stole his eyes from hers for a second to gain back his courage, as all of it had been spent the moment he mentioned her inevitable departure. “That I would never hurt you, I never can, hurt you,” he assured her, searching her eyes for anything. 
“I truly am in love with you. And I will take forever to show you that if that’s what you’ll ask of me,” bringing her hand to his chest, he rested it there. “I want you to lay yourself bare in front of me so that I can show you that even your ugliest is loved by me,” he whispered.
“Say something, please,” he almost cried, his voice cracked, not having anticipated her departure to come so soon. 
“I –,” Y/n began, her voice hoarse due to not having used it for so long. “I think I can love you, Klaus,” she uttered, looking away from his eyes, fearing that he was going to deny her heart upon realising just how ugly and bruised and beaten it is.
Upon the realisation that sure, her insides are a million colours – but they are all shades of blue. 
And when the deafening silence got too much for her to bear, she turned away from him to make a run back home. 
But her hand felt to have gotten caught in something and she was pulled right back, into a hard and vulnerable chest as her mouth felt something soft press itself hardly against it. 
Klaus’ mouth. 
His mouth was on hers and one of his hands was curled against the back of her neck while the other cradled her face with force. 
Everything inside of her erupted into flames as she tilted her face to better mould it against his’, and fisted the curls on the nape of his neck, pushing him further into her while bending her back to accept the force. 
“Say it again,” he breathed, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead on hers, his tears slipping from his eyes and falling onto her cheeks. 
“I think,” she exhaled sharply, trying to catch her breath while her eyes remained stuck on his mouth. “I think I can love you,” she confessed again, instantly moving her lips in sync with his’ as he kissed her desperately, finally. 
“My heart – it is shabby and broken but it’s already yours,” she choked out. “And it’s only mendable inside your ribs,” her shoulders shook as she cried, now fisting the shirt of his collar to keep him close to her. 
“My love, your heart – it, it is safe with me,” he breathed with her, trying to calm his racing heart down. “And my heart will forever beat on your command,” sniffling, he tucked her hair behind her ear, gently lifting her face to seal his confession by breathing in her breath and letting her take away his’ as he pressed his mouth against hers, once again. 
2K notes · View notes
myth1cs · 2 months ago
Text
Locked in (Oh Haewon x M!Reader)
Yes Haewon spread that Charisma Uniqueness Nerve and Talent (Smut! .... Sorry!) Word Count: 5,588
Tumblr media
"Fuck you Y/N, I'll do whatever I want!"
"Haewon please get off the table. You're getting it dirty with your shoes!"
You were getting tired of Haewon. She always purposely went out of her way to piss you off. This time was no different, yesterday you made a big deal about her spilling her drinks all over the table and not cleaning it. Today she decided to get revenge by making the table dirty with her shoes.
You aren't much of a clean freak but the way Haewon kept being so unhygienic was driving you crazy.
"And what if I don't get off the table Y/N what are you going to do about it?" You aren't much of a confrontational person and Haewon knows it. You try to assert authority but she never felt intimidated by you, which made her more comfortable challenging you.
You sighed as you knew you couldn't do anything to get her off the table. The only thing you could do was wait for her to get bored and get off so you could start cleaning the table.
Suddenly you heard someone enter your dorm and looked behind you to see Kim Dahyun.
"Are you guys arguing again?!" Dahyun asked as if she was a mom who was disappointed that her kids weren't getting along.
"It's Y/N's fault!" Haewon said when she saw that it was Dahyun. Something you noticed about Haewon is that she treats everyone nicely. Well everyone except you for a reason that you don't know.
"Both of you guys need to learn to get along. Why do you guys even argue so much?"
"It's all Y/N's fault!"
"Oh really Haewon? Last time I checked you were the one being such a fucking bitch!"
"Enough both of you!"
Dahyun grabbed both of you by an arm and dragged you both into a room.
"I was gonna take you both out to the friend groups hangout but instead you guys can talk out your differences. By the time I get back you both better have made up." Dahyun left and closed the door.
"Wait!" Haewon yelled, she tried to open the door but it was locked. "Dahyun quit playing don't leave me in here trapped with this loser." Haewon started banging on the door but it was useless Dahyun already left.
"Ugh! I hate you Y/N."
"Me? This is your fault Haewon!"
"Shut the fuck up Y/N!"
Haewon went up to you and punched you in the face. It hurt you, it didn't even feel like she put much power into that punch yet it still felt painful.
Both you and Haewon started fighting each other. Leaving bruises on each other and tiring yourselves out at a result. Eventually you both got tired and laid on the bed.
"Fuck you Y/N lay on the floor."
"Why don't you do it Haewon?"
"Because it's gross, now get off the bed!"
"Make me."
Haewon sighed, she didn't have the energy to push you off. You both laid there on the bed for an hour not talking to each other. Neither of you had anything to entertain yourselves with and it was driving you both crazy.
You eventually turned over to Haewon
"Hey can we talk."
Haewon turned over and you guys made eye contact for the first time since you guys laid down on the bed.
"Well not like I have anything else to do."
"Why do you always bully me?"
"Y/N ... I just like seeing your reaction. Seeing you upset is something that-"
While Haewon was talking you started to pay more attention to her body. You never realized how ... good she looked. I mean she was totally your type. How come you never noticed?
You couldn't stop yourself from looking at her lips. They looked so delicious you just knew those soft lips would feel amazing.
"Hey! Hey! Y/N!'
You suddenly came out of your thoughts and realized you've been staring at her for too long.
"Do my lips look that good to you Y/N?"
You blushed and nodded your head. I mean she already caught you no point in lying to her at this point.
Haewon smiled and started scanning your body.
"You know Y/N you're not too bad yourself."
"Really Haewon?"
Haewon pulled you into a hug, hugging you tightly as if you would disappear if she let go.
You hugged her back taking her sweet smell in.
"Y/N I'm sorry for everything. I hope you can forgive me."
You brushed her hair and kissed her on the cheek which made her gasp. She didn't expect you to take such a sudden move on her.
"Haewon I love you. I could never stay mad at you."
"I love you to Y/N"
You both hugged each other tightly and drifted off to sleep.
Suddenly you and Haewon were woken up by the sound of the door opening. Dahyun entered the room.
"When I told you guys to make up I didn't expect this. So are you guys dating now?"
"Wh-were not dating!" Haewon quickly responded in defense.
"Yeah sure, I've never seen you as happy as you were just now Haewon. You were hugging Y/N as if your life depended on it."
Haewon sighed "Fine you caught us, we're dating now."
You were shocked when Haewon said that. You realized you two were now official, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
Haewon reached out for your hand to help you get up. You were still a bit hazy from just waking up but you managed to grab Haewon's hand, and she helped you sit up on the bed.
Dahyun squealed "I'm so happy for you guys!"
You clung to Haewon's arm as if she was going to leave you. You were in love with her. The same girl that one day ago you wanted nothing to do with was the same girl that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
"So when's the first date?"
"Aren't you rushing things Dahyun? Besides little Y/N here is still sleepy, he probably wants to catch up on his sleep."
"Haewon you're only 1 month older than me!" you responded in a groggy voice.
Dahyun giggled "Alright well I'll leave you two love birds to it. Don't do anything dangerous without the proper protection."
Dahyun left you both in the room alone. You laid your head on Haewon's shoulder.
"Haewon can we go back to sleep."
Haewon looked at you and gave you a warm smile.
"Of course we can."
1 week later
You and Haewon were going out on a first date. As you held her hand you couldn't stop yourself from feeling happy. Your heart kept beating fast and it felt like the only thing in the world that mattered was you two.
You and Haewon arrived at the ice cream shop and went inside. There were a handful of people inside but not too many people that it felt cramped. You both went up to the counter and ordered your favorite ice cream flavors.
You both decided to eat outside. You felt the wind blowing on your skin as you ate. It was relaxing, you felt at ease with Haewon at your side. Back then even being in the same room with Haewon would put you on edge but now she was a source of comfort for you.
"Y/N you have something on your face."
Haewon acted like she was wiping something off your face but she really just wanted an excuse to rub your cheeks.
"Did you just make that up?"
Haewon giggled "You caught me Y/N."
Ever since the day Dahyun locked you both into a room you've both been inseparable. You've both been sleeping, showering, and hanging out together. Every morning you felt blessed being able to see Haewon's face first thing in the morning.
When you finished your ice cream you clung to Haewon again.
"Y/N you're so clingy!" Haewon said when she felt you cling onto her.
I mean ... you were, but could anyone blame you? I mean when someone like Oh Haewon is your girlfriend you just have to show her love every moment you get.
"Hey Y/N can I ask you something?"
"Anything Haewon."
"Okay ... just know I don't want to force you into anything if you don't want to do what I'm about to say then that's completely fine and I respect your decision."
That night you locked the door to your room and looked at Haewon a little nervous.
"Y/N are you okay?"
"It's just ... I don't feel good about myself. I don't want you to see me naked."
Haewon hugged you and kissed your cheek.
"Y/N I love you the way you are. But if you don't want to go through with this then that's okay."
Hearing Haewon say those words gave you confidence and you decided to go through with it.
"Can you strip first Haewon?"
Haewon nodded and began to take her clothes off. You were mesmerized, you couldn't believe that she had such a perfect body. But it only made you that much more insecure knowing it was your turn next.
Haewon went up to you and grabbed the hem of your shirt.
"Do you want me to take it off for you?"
"No! Please let me take my time Haewon."
Haewon understood. She backed away and watched you as you slowly mustered up the courage to start taking your clothes off.
When you finally took all your clothes off you felt horrible. What business did you have trying to have sex with Haewon? You should have stayed in your clothes. What were you thinking by taking off your clothes? You should just put your clothes back on and try to-
"Y/N your perfect."
You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard those words come out of her mouth. You felt relieved and happy when Haewon called you perfect. You started blushing and feeling giddy.
"Oh ~ Y/N you like it when I praise you?"
You were a little bit surprised when Haewon said that. You never thought that you had a praising kink but when you thought about it you always felt butterflies when Haewon praised you.
"Well I guess I do." You responded.
Haewon went up and softly kissed your lips. They felt like heaven, you kissed her soft lips back wanting to be able to kiss her forever.
Haewon started mumbling while kissing you "Y/N you're doing so well." It turned you on. Your cock started rising slowly.
You started to deepen the kiss. You both were caught in the moment and you both started to kiss each other more rough. You slid your tongue in her mouth and your tongues started fighting for control.
Neither of you won as both your tongues got tired and you both eventually pulled away.
"Y/N you did great." You felt yourself getting flustered and your cock was getting hard when you heard Haewon say those words.
Haewon looked at your cock and smiled. "Do you want me to take care of you?" You nodded and she got down on her knees.
Haewon was on her knees for a few moments before she spoke up. "Y/N I'm new to this. Is there anything in specific I should be doing?"
You had to ponder for a moment. This was your first time having sex to so you weren't sure if there was something she should be doing or if she should just do what she thinks is right.
"How about you try just touching it?"
Haewon nodded and started to poke your cock. She wasn't sure if there was a specific way she should touch your cock so she just went with what she thought was a safe option by poking it.
"Ngh~"
"Y/N are you okay? Am I doing it wrong?"
"No Haewon your doing just fine."
Haewon started to rub your cock with one finger to see if she could get a reaction out of you. She saw that you slightly reacted but it wasn't anything significant.
"Y/N is there something else I should be doing?"
"Try licking it."
Haewon got her tongue out and started to wonder where she should lick your cock. Should she start with the head? Or maybe the base of your cock. Or would somewhere in the middle be better?
Haewon decided to start in the middle just in case. When you felt her tongue you jerked. Her tongue on your sensitive areas felt great and you felt your legs going weak from it.
You grabbed onto Haewon's head grasping it desperately so you wouldn't fall. Haewon started licking your cock at different speeds. She didn't know which speed was optimal so she did all of them. Randomly going from a slow speed to a slightly faster speed only to drastically increase her pace the next second.
Even with all of the stimulation you felt you didn't feel any closer to release. "H-Haewon I hate to bother you but I'm not any closer to cumming."
Haewon felt horrible when you said that. Was she really that bad? She was regretting asking to have sex she shouldn't have ever tried. She got up and sat next to you.
"I'm sorry Y/N I really wanted this night to mean something special to us." You could tell Haewon wanted to cry for messing up an important moment in your relationship.
"Haewon don't cry." You embraced her patting her back. "Let's try again Haewon"
"But Y/N the moment is ruined now."
"As long as it's with you every moment is precious to me."
That made Haewon feel better. She got back up but this time she was going to do what she thought was right.
"Y/N lay down."
You followed her instructions without hesitation. Haewon got on top of you and started to align her pussy to your cock.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"Let's hope so." Haewon said as she quickly took your whole cock in her pussy. She knew it was gonna hurt so she decided to just try to take the whole thing in one go.
"Ow fuck- It hurts."
"Haewon you should get off. I don't want you to be hurt."
"Trust me Y/N I can handle it."
After some heavy breathing she managed to calm herself down and started to bounce on your cock. Her pussy gripped your cock so good you thought the blood flow to your cock stopped.
You both were sweating. It was the first time for both of you so it felt like an extremely intense activity.
"Y/N I feel like something is building up in me."
"It's fine Haewon just relax yourself and let it happen."
Haewon proceeded to cum all over your dick. So much came out that some got on the bed sheets.
She was exhausted. After having an intense orgasm she was ready to hit the hay but she still wanted you to experience pleasure.
"Y/N sit up and let me try to suck your dick again."
"Haewon that's the least of my worries. My time can come another time right now let's just get some rest."
She nodded and fell asleep on top of you.
A few years later
You and Haewon had just finished moving all of your stuff into your new house. After college you and Haewon decided to live together and move into a home together. The rest of your friend group lived separately but you all didn't live far from each other so you guys would see each other every now and then.
"Let's start unpacking Y/N."
You started to help Haewon unpack and as you went through all your things you couldn't help but to think about the past. Honestly so many things fell in place for you and Haewon to even be together. You had to had picked the same college, you guys were randomly assigned roommates, and it just so happened you shared a friend that decided to lock you both in a room. You were grateful for Dahyun as if she had never locked you in that room with Haewon. Well who knows how your life would've turned out.
"Reminiscing about the past Y/N?"
"Yeah I was just thinking about us and how we even came to be you know?"
"I remember, I remember when we first did it. We were so inexperienced."
"Don't remind me Haewon! I prefer to think that night never happened."
You and Haewon started to talk about the past and talk about old memories. Suddenly you heard the doorbell ring.
You got up and went to open the door. When you opened the door and saw one of your friends from your friend group Lily Morrow.
"Y/N it's so nice to see you!"
"It's nice to see you to Lily."
"Where's Haewon?"
"She's unpacking in the living room."
"Want to help me scare her?"
You walked back into the room and went back to help Haewon with the unpacking.
"Who was at the door Y/N?"
"It was just a sales person."
"Ugh I hate sales people. Like why are they bothering us on our own property."
While Haewon was complaining Lily suddenly came up behind her.
"Surprise!"
"Yah!"
"L-Lily! Don't scare me like that!"
"Sorry Haewon I couldn't resist."
"Did you plan this with her Y/N?"
"Perhaps."
"You're gonna pay for that."
You knew exactly what Haewon meant.
"Anyways Lily why did you even come over."
"I was in the area and wanted to pay you guys a visit. Well since I'm here I might as well help you guys unpack."
After a few hours you all managed to unpacked all of your things and put them in there place. Lily was about to leave but suddenly it started raining.
"Just my luck. It rains just when I'm about to leave."
"You can stay with us Lily for the night." You offered.
"Really? I don't want to bother you two."
"It's fine you can have the bedroom here on the first floor."
"Thank you."
Lily got up and left for the bedroom. Once Haewon heard the sound of the door close she looked at you and gave you a smirk you were all too familiar with.
"Haewon please don't."
She started to rub your clothed cock and you tried your best to keep your moans in.
"I don't know Y/N. I think you should learn your place."
You gulped knowing what was going to happen next.
"Follow me."
You obeyed Haewon and followed her to the bedroom on the second floor. On the way Haewon grabbed an unopened box. Once you two entered the room Haewon locked the door.
Haewon started to open the box. You gulped wondering what she would pull out. She pulled out handcuffs.
"H-Haewon?"
It was no use she was already lost. Haewon put your hands behind your back and put them in the handcuffs. You didn't resist and let Haewon do what she wanted.
Haewon kissed your lips for a few moments before pulling away.
"Safe word?"
"Lock"
Haewon smiled and went back to the box. She pulled out a whip and went back to you.
"You'll listen to me from now on."
"Yes Haewon." It would only make it worse if you resisted so it was easier for both of you if you just listened to her.
"Now don't move or else I'm going to punish you." Haewon proceeded to pull down your pants and saw your hard cock.
"Horney already Y/N?" You nodded. You couldn't lie you enjoyed seeing Haewon take charge like this.
Haewon started to slowly take your cock. Her tongue glided through your whole length. Swirling your tip and gently sucking. Your legs were shaking you. Wanted to thrust in her mouth but knew better.
You started moaning but you quickly shut your mouth and tried to suppress them. When you did this Haewon used the whip to hit you.
"Did I tell you to suppress your moans?"
"But Lily-"
Haewon whipped you again "I don't give a fuck that she's downstairs. You listen to me got it? Now you let me hear your moans Y/N."
You nodded and Haewon went back to taking care of your cock. You moaned loudly knowing full well that there was a good chance Lily could hear you.
"Mhm~ Yes Y/N let Lily know that you're submissive for me."
Haewon went back to whipping you. It hurt you horribly but something about it turned you on. Haewon started to tighten the handcuffs on your hands to add to your pain.
"Fuck"
There was too much to focus on. The pain you felt was horrible but at the same time Haewon gave you the best pleasure you had ever felt. Your cock started twitching in her mouth and she pulled out.
"Who knows Y/N maybe I'll leave you like this as punishment for earlier."
"Please~"
Haewon pushed you onto the bed and got on top of you. She started to strip her clothes and you couldn't help but stare.
"You're really excited to see me naked huh?"
You blushed and nodded.
Haewon smirked and deliberately started going slower.
"Please don't tease me Haewon."
Haewon smacked your face.
"Since when do you order me around?"
"I don't.."
"Don't speak up unless I say so."
Haewon went back to undressing and after what felt like hours she finally took off all her clothes off.
Haewon sat on top of you and you started to struggle to breathe.
"If you want to be able to breathe properly eat me out."
You started eating Haewon out as fast as possible. You slurped down every bit of juice from her pussy and ran your tongue all over it. Haewon was lost in her own world. Her legs were shaking and she held onto your head for support.
As you felt yourself suffocating Haewon squirted all over you and got off you. You gasped for air and tried to regain composure.
Haewon however didn't have any interest in letting you rest.
"Get up Y/N and let me get those handcuffs off you."
With low energy you sat yourself up and Haewon grabbed the key and freed you from the handcuffs. She also took this chance to take off your shirt.
Haewon got up and went back to the box and reached for something else. She ended up pulling out a blindfold and some ropes.
You gulped. It was far from your favorite activity but you wanted to make Haewon happy.
Haewon tied up your arms and legs. She put the blindfold on you before she got on your dick and started riding you.
She whipped you repeatedly. It stung you horribly but for the sake of Haewon's pleasure you didn't want to use your safe word.
"Fuck Y/N I'm gonna cum!"
Haewon was sadistic which you were fine with but you felt the pain becoming more unbearable overriding your enjoyment. You tried holding out until Haewon came.
But you reached your breaking point. Your body was bruised badly. If Haewon whipped you one more time you felt like you would break.
"Lock! Lock! Haewon please stop!" You yelled in pain unable to take much more of Haewon's sadistic tendencies.
Haewon was snapped out of her trance and quickly got off you. She untied the ropes and took off your blindfold.
"Y/N are you okay?! I'm sorry I got ahead of myself." Haewon was sad when she saw a few tears on you.
"I-I'm fine Haewon."
"No you're not! Come on Y/N let me fix you a hot bath."
Haewon helped you get into the bathroom into the bathtub. She started the warm water to help you relax.
"Thank you Haewon."
"Don't mention it Y/N. I should be sorry to you. I got carried away."
Haewon got in the bath with you and embraced you lovingly. She kissed you in the spot where she smacked you earlier.
"I love you Y/N please don't ever hold off from using your safe word."
"I promise I won't next time Haewon."
You both sat in silence until Haewon remembered something.
"Y/N you did great back there."
To say you were a bit surprised would be an understatement. But it also warmed your heart that Haewon still remembered when you told her you had a bit of a praising kink all those years ago.
"Y/N you are perfect I love you so much."
You felt yourself getting worked up from Haewon's compliments and started to feel your cock rising.
"Want me to make you cum?"
You nodded
Haewon and you got out of the bath. She got to her knees and started to give your cock all the attention she could. You started thrusting in and out of her mouth. Her tight throat felt amazing and you felt closer to release.
You increased your thrusts and Haewon started to deep throat your cock. You ended up spreading your cum all over Haewon's mouth and she swallowed every last drop.
"Your cum is amazing thank you Y/N."
You both dried yourselves before going to sleep together naked.
The next day you were both woken up by Lily's yelling downstairs.
"Haewon Y/N! I made pancakes!"
You both got dressed and went downstairs. You saw the pancakes Lily made and went to eat them.
"Thank you so much Lily. You shouldn't have." You said before eating her pancakes.
"Well it's the least I could do for you guys. Besides I'm sure you guys need the energy after last night."
You and Haewon blushed.
"You heard us?" Haewon said surprised
Lily chuckled "Of course I did. My room was directly under yours. I didn't know you were sadistic like that Haewon."
Haewon couldn't make eye contact with Lily and ate her pancakes with her head down.
One year later
You were nervous.
Today was the day you would propose to Haewon. You ran the scenario multiple times throughout your head.
Step 1: Go to the outdoor venue you rented out for the day and set up the place with Lily.
Step 2: Dahyun picks up Haewon to take her to a "Fancy restaurant"
Step 3: Dahyun tells Haewon that she needs to "Pick up her friend" as an excuse so she can head to the venue.
Step 4: If everything goes well you and Lily should be done by the time Haewon and Dahyun get their and you propose to Haewon.
It should be simple enough.
When you arrive at the venue you notice Lily is not there. Panicking you call her.
"Where are you?!"
"My car broke down!"
You started panicking. Lily was in charge of bringing all the decorations. The venue only had some basic decorations but you wanted to go all out as this would be an important moment in your life. Should you try to pick Lily up? No she lives too far away, you probably won't make it back in time.
Should you tell Dahyun to try to stall for more time? But Haewon would be suspicious if after Dahyun gets a call she suddenly starts stalling.
You checked the time and saw you only had 20 minutes before Dahyun and Haewon would get to the venue.
You were about to have a break down. How could everything go bad on such an important day?
15 minutes passed. Only five more minutes until Haewon and Dahyun arrived. You were contemplating whether you should try to propose another day or if you should just try to make do with what you already have.
Suddenly you heard people scream your name.
"Y/N!!!!"
Looking in the direction of where the sounds were coming from you saw Lily and Bae running towards you.
"Lily and Bae? What are you guys doing here?"
Lily was out of breath "I called Bae to pick me up. We were speeding our way here. And then we ran the rest of the way since the closest parking lot was far."
Bae suddenly interrupted Lily "Guys we're running out of time we need to decorate now!"
All of you started setting up the venue. You had to cut some corners as you didn't have time on your side anymore.
You got a text from Dahyun telling you that she arrived. Lily and Bae quickly went to hide and you tried to get yourself ready as you went to hide.
"Dahyun why is your friend here anyways."
"They had to help out someone set up for an event."
"I don't see them."
"Hold on I need to use the restroom Haewon. Try looking around for them."
Once Dahyun left the area you came out from hiding.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?"
"Haewon I need to tell you something."
"What do you need to tell me?"
"I-I don't think our relationship will work out if we stay like this."
Haewon was shocked. She grabbed your hands while looking as if she was about to cry.
"What do you mean Y/N."
"Ever since we graduated from college I truly loved you. I love everything we've done together and honestly I've made memories I will never forget with you. But we can't keep going ... at least not like this."
Tears fell down Haewon's eyes. She was crushed fearing your next words.
"Y/N please don't leave me! I promise I can fix everything just name it."
"Haewon I can't let you be my girlfriend ... I want you to be my wife."
You got down on your knees pulling out the ring you bought.
"Will you be mine Haewon?"
Haewon looked at you. You couldn't make out her facial expressions. You held your breath waiting for her answer.
"Y/N fuck you! Don't ever scare me like that again! Of course I'll be your wife Y/N."
Haewon took the ring and put it on. You breathed a huge sigh of relief and pulled her into a hug. Lily, Bae, and Dahyun came up to you guys and congratulated you.
"Come on Haewon let's go eat." You said while holding your fiance's hand.
Wedding Day
You were waiting for Haewon to walk down the aisle. You were ready to spend the rest of your life with Haewon. Sharing all of your worst and best moments and being there for each other even in illness you were ready to tackle anything as long as you had Haewon by your side.
And then you saw her. She was perfect, you couldn't take your eyes off Haewon. It was as if time slowed down.
Everything was going perfectly. You two exchanged vows and then the magic words were said.
"You may now kiss the bride."
You pulled Haewon in for a deep kiss. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and her.
"Y/N I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with you."
"Me to Haewon."
That night you partied hard. Hanging out with the people who meant the most to you.
Haewon threw the bouquet and Bae ended up being the one to catch it. Everyone cheered for her and you jokingly asked her.
"Are you finally going to ask out Sullyoon?"
Bae blushed and lightly pushed you.
"Yah not so loud Y/N."
Eventually the party came to a close and everyone went home. When you got home with Haewon you carried her to bed.
You laid her down gently and kissed her forehead. Haewon was getting sleepy so you started to change her into her pajamas. Once you got Haewon changed you started to take off your clothes so you could change but suddenly you heard Haewon get up.
"How about I give you a special present Y/N as a celebration to us?"
Knowing where this was going you nodded your head and took off your remaining clothes. Haewon got on her knees and started to pump your cock.
"Haewon this is the best thing I could ask for."
She simply smiled and started to suck your tip. Haewon swirled her tongue on your tip covering it in her saliva.
Haewon bobbed her head. Her tongue sliding through your cock letting every inch feel it. Your cock started twitching and you were close to release.
You started to thrust in her mouth. You spread your cum in her mouth. So much cum came out it was leaking out of her mouth.
Haewon's face was stained with cum. And both of you wouldn't have it any other way.
"Now it's my turn to give you a special gift Haewon."
You picked up Haewon and laid her on the bed. You took of her pajamas and started to lick her pussy and rub her clit.
Haewon moaned loving the feeling you gave her. You licked her pussy and enjoyed how her fluids tasted. You truly never could have enough. You ate Haewon out.
Shoving your tongue deep into her pussy Haewon screamed and squirted all over you. You drank every last drop.
You both laid naked next to each other in bed and shared another kiss.
"I love you Haewon."
"I love you to Y/N"
You both drifted to sleep holding each other, ready to spend the rest of your lives together.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finally finished this for all the people requesting longer smuts.
I wanted to make this longer but I felt like people would loose interest if I made it too long.
Anyways if you actually sat through all of this thank you.
555 notes · View notes
willowed-wisp · 2 months ago
Text
stitches [simon ‘ghost’ riley]
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader/you
Tumblr media
Hopefully this doesn’t suck and makes sense for the most part. Thanks for anybody that reads this 🥰
WARNINGS: smut, descriptions of injury, body insecurity… a bit of plus size!reader
When you joined the Special Forces, you didn’t want to form attachments.
That was the only rule you held yourself to.
As a medic back at base, you thought it would be easy. Alas, fate had other plans in the form of Task Force 141.
Lead by Captain John Price- who had handpicked you for medical support- to stay back at whatever base looked like- whether it be a van or a safe house.
With that, you lived with the boys. John Price, Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley. You kept yourself to yourself at first, not confident among four SAS soldiers nor in yourself. Knowing of them only.
So you planned to stay huddled in the corner and quiet.
Then in the middle of the night, you came face to face with a black balaclava and a gruff voice, “Ya good?” You only remember the nightmares… more so flashbacks. They were relentless- creeping in the recesses of your mind, waiting for times when stress peaked. Unfortunately this entire ordeal was nerve-wracking.
You only noticed the warm hand on your shoulder, instinct led you to stare past the noir covering the majority of his face and into his eyes. Caring eyes.
He had no need to check if you were okay, he didn’t know you but, nevertheless, it was nice to see the lieutenant as something other than a looming figure.
The seriousness became too much to bear for you, “Do you sleep in that thing?” Using humour to take the edge off- well trying to.
“Soundly,” Earthy, rugged… British yourself, he sounded awfully English. That was when your eyes dawned on the clock- the time more specifically. 02:01.
“Do you sleep at all?” Another attempt but he didn’t laugh- your smile faded, maybe a tad intimated. He wasn’t exactly small.
He stood away, no longer crouching at your bedside. How tall was the guy? You tried to hide the wonder on your face, “Better than you… when I do get a kip…” Some pain in those words. “Better get some shut eye, Y/L/N… see ya at dawn.” You slept better knowing at least someone in 141 had your back.
After that you started integrating more with the lads. You learned that Johnny could clean his messes up exceptionally well, and that’s why he was called ‘Soap’. Price still thought the name was bullcrap but alas, not your problem.
You also noticed that Ghost never showed his face. Black face paint shrouding the skin showing around his dark eyes or his sunglasses. You preferred the face paint.
He had a habit of watching you from across the room chatting with Soap and Gaz- you blocked any possible avenues of relationships. Not that they’d be interested in you (your own thoughts). You didn’t find yourself attractive or good enough. A bit too much weight, you continued to think.
It was a good thing, you couldn’t get distracted.
That was until that day…
Supply checks… stock up on the sterilised needle and stitch thread. You barely had any use to 141, just a glorified nurse who had no business being given a code name.
“Stitches! It’s LT!” The brash Scotsman bolstered his comrade over to the gurney in the impromptu medical van. Blue eyes flashed over into yours, hulking the larger man to lay on his back.
Ghost wasn’t having any of it, attempting to sit up only for more blood to gush from his thigh. You rushed into action, “Soap, get us out of here,” said all too calmly for someone under such pressure. The man did as he was told and they were off. Meanwhile, you had pushed the lieutenant down on the bed. He grunted in pain each time he made a move, “For fuck’s sake, stay still so I can fucking see.” Blue gloves on, as he stopped wriggling, “Thank you.” You were still unimpressed but at least he listened. Unbeknownst to you under the mask he donned a pained smirk- unaware you could be so commandeering. Almost proud of you.
A grunt paused his pride, “Fuck…” Through gritted teeth. Your fingers working the tweezers with expert precision.
He went to sit up, your left hand pressed against his sturdy chest- pushing him down, “Want me to snag your femoral artery, Ghost?” In no time, a red-coated bullet laid in the metal tray and he sat there in his boxer shorts- watching you work and hitching a breath each time the needle breached skin.
They were the gentlest hands that had ever worked on him. “What happened?” Eyes boring into his as you cast off the stitch.
“Someone got the jump on me, should see ‘im,” you smiled at that, able to tell he was too. By his eyes.
The ones you dreamt of every night- except when the terrors returned. Johnny was too heavy of a sleeper to hear you, but Simon’s eyes were what you woke up to. In the flesh. He never asked what they were about, just comforted you.
When your deployment ended, and you returned home… you missed the guys. And his warm eyes whenever you returned to the land of the living.
Johnny contacted you. A pub crawl in Scotland, apparently Gaz, Price and even Simon were game.
Turns out you and Ghost didn’t live too far away. In ten minutes, a knock at your door and you met that deep gaze. “Johnny only just message ya, didn’t he?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m drivin’ us, don’t trust Gaz’s deathtrap…”
“Well… I just need to grab my stuff,” He started to walk away up the path to his 4x4. “You can come in and wait if you wanted?” Who was he to turn you down when you asked so nicely.
He helped you with your bags, “You sure ya gonna get through with that?”
“Haha,” dry humour, there was a reason you seemed to get on, “And if you want me to get more shit…”
You could see a glint in his eyes, “Nah, you’re alright, love…” That went straight down to between your thighs, the look on your face amused the man.
Surprisingly, the two of you weren’t awkward. Quiet here and there.
You assumed he wasn’t used to social interaction in general- especially wearing that balaclava, not good for conversation.
Simon was good to talk to, all waffled speech was redacted with him. Straight forward, sometimes sarcastic and wholly looking for banter- that’s what you preferred.
And there was no chance he would be interested in you. He has the aura of a guy who gets the attention of stunning women. Why would he want you? (You thought)
It was never going to happen.
By the end of that car ride, he learned about your messy string of exes and he had way too much Shania Twain on his playlist (and knew all of the words).
Johnny greeted you both with open arms, a tight hug for you, “You been ta’ing care of yourself, Stitches?”
“Better than you look, use more soap…” The laughs and hug came to an abrupt end- his stare directed over to Simon who loomed behind you. Was it just you, or did Johnny look scared?
“Let me show y’ where you’ll be sleepin’…”You went to grab your bags but Ghost already had it covered.
Poor you, you didn’t know what would await your stay at Johnny MacTavish’s.
The tip was a stretch, your head thrown back against the blanket pillow. Silent screams playing in your throat. He could feel the struggle and see the pleasure striking your visage. Murmurs of his name, “Si- Simon -!” Broken and whimpering. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t on the edge of losing his cool. You were pulsing around him so angelic.
“You’re takin’ me so well, lovie,” His hips took a full stroke, bracing your cervix. Thrumming and dripping wet. Another groan of his name.
The rhythm sank in, strangled moans trapped- your breathing wild against his ear. His thrusts swinging all the way back until they gutted you. Over and over. “Feels. So. GOOD -!” His hand covering your mouth, noting that the owner of the house was just next door and the other two at the end of the hall. Simon’s place supposed to be on the couch downstairs surrounded by Soap’s army memorabilia. Not right there, balls deep inside of you. Loving every second.
Cherishing every inch of you, kissing you in the moment to stay quiet so he could remain there for a while longer. So he may get some sleep, for the first time in a week.
Before you know it, his hand anchored around your ankles- spreading them to hook better. You’ve never moaned so loud in your life. Even echoing off the walls of the room. “Fuck it…” He was too far gone to care what the boys heard or thought. He had been thinking about that moment since he met you, looking so delectable with his cock hammering into you. Taking him so well.
You didn’t know if he would ever tire out, another rush of adrenaline and exhaustion swept over your limp body- numb to anything other than where his thighs slammed against your own and how raw you were going to in the morning.
Your legs fell, his grip focused at your jaw; leaning over- rubbing against sensitivity deep- and claiming your lips in a ravenous kiss that had your head spinning more than before.
Hands falling to your hips, thrusts sloppy as you tightened once again. “Where can I- ,” Drunk on how he tasted, your legs locked around his body.
“Inside,” Your hand found the base of his hair at Simon’s neck, holding on for dear life. Warmth spread downwards as your nails dug into his toned back and neck alike. A thick groan filled the air- enough to become addicted.
Neither of you panted, thriving in the silence. He savoured being hilted inside you, careful not to crush you beneath him. Hot breath spanning your collarbone. “Can’t tell ya how long I’ve wan’ed to do that…”
You felt so small against him, so yearned for. No face covering on his end, no boundaries. Laid bare to him and he wanted you anyway.
Fingers stroked at his thick hair, “Same, Si…”
Neither of you knew who fell victim to slumber first.
The morning came around, the boys had looked proud of themselves… too proud, too giddy. Especially Johnny.
“I think the gutters need check’ng, heard some weird noise last nigh’,” You’ve never threatened Johnny’s mohawk before but that day you grew close.
Price even had a glint of mischief in those clear eyes of his, “Vampires common in Scotland?” You didn’t check your neck, too caught up in the heat the previous night.
Gaz had a smirk on his face, “Not from what I know of, sir…”
Christ, you were never gonna hear the end of it.
______
masterlist
737 notes · View notes