#i said somethings wrong with their skin they said probably fine.
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I don't really see the point in ranting about fictional people.
People dress in ways so that they don't get called a gender they aren't, yeah. And it's annoying when we do so much just to be who we actually are and people still don't recognize it
I am nonbinary and I dress the way I want to. My gender does not reflect my clothes.
I like wearing the clothes of the sex i was assigned at birth, too. That's not the point.
They are, in fact, using incorrect pronouns. The thing is, if it's 'such a simple thing' that I'm mad about, then it's a really simple fix! Just use the right fucking ones after I've said it several times.
It's not like I'm getting mad over nothing. Especially when I get misgendered more after I say my pronouns or when I wear a pronoun pin. Because they're using the wrong things for me on purpose.
Can you imagine if everyone just randomly started using a different name for you? It's not who you are. If everybody just started calling you Steve and refused to change it after you say "Hey, I'm not this Steve guy you're talking about." every fucking day with every person, you'd probably be pissed off too!
The thing is, it's not because of my sex. My gender is not because of my sex lmfao
Do you not understand that like, the English language has optional gendered words?
I could call a actor an actress. But why would I? Its unneeded.
I wasn't 'upset'. I wasn't crying. I wasn't breaking down. It's more disorienting. It's confusing. Because that's not me.
People are calling me something that isn't who I am. Am I just supposed to adjust to that? Adjust who I am to fit what other people think I should feel or be like?
No, what the fuck is wrong with you? Call me what I am. I am nonbinary, and I use they/them pronouns.
Language is not 'in accordance with reality'. Reality is so much larger than your puny argument, in reality, we should call people what they want to be called.
If somebody called you a slur, would you say it's 'in accordance with reality' because the slur is specifically for who you are? What your skin color or gender or sex is? What your ethnicity is? Is it fine to call somebody a slur because it fits what minority they are?
seeing women come out as nonbinary and then start just dressing a certain way. and I just want to tell them that you can not shave and have short hair and not wear makeup and wear androgynous clothes and still be a woman. and the fact that people are trying to sell you the idea that you can’t look that way and still be a woman is misogynistic
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How the Meljay reunion should have gone cause I am angry and bitter.
Jayce breathed in deeply as he moved, his hammer dragging behind him as his leg ached in protest, begging to be put down after everything it went through within the last months. But he couldn't. Not now. There were too many unanswered questions. How did he survive the bomb? Why Viktor didn't. What happened here?
Soft footsteps pulled him out of his questioning, their echoes like a familiar melody in Jayce's ears. A cloaked white figure walked towards him, her silhouette as alluring as he remembers. But it couldn't be. Last he heard, she disappeared, probably kidnapped by zaunites. He stalked closer to her, gripping the handle in case it's another hallucination, another trick, another dream-
The cloaked figure revealed their face, spoke his name, and Jayce broke. He ran into the arms of his beloved, dropping his hammer in the process, and held her until it felt as though they were going to merge into one.
Mel held him just as strongly, refusing to allow either of them to breathe. Jayce let her go gently, slowly putting her down on the ground, checking her for injuries or anything that needed a doctor to look after.
Mel cupped his face gently. "I'm fine. Mayne not truly whole, but not hurt." She gave him a look over, worry clouding her face, slowly backing away to view the full picture. It took all of his strength not to take her back into his arms. "Jayce, what on earth happened to you? You look you've been through the hells and back,"
Jayce opened his mouth, wanting to explain anything, everything, but that annoyed voice at the back of his head held him back.
She invested too much in this dream of yours to listen to reason.
This is her life's work too. She won't give up on it so easily. You didn't either at the start.
You've seen how people have been used and thrown away once they've lost their worth. What stops you from being next?
He clenched his head in pain. Mel was now fully concerned. "Jayce, what is happening with you? Should I call for help?"
"No!" Jayce shouted louder than he wanted. He avoided her gaze. "I'm- I'm alright. I just need- I just-" He took a deep breath, and met her eyes. "We need to destroy the Hexgate for good. It's a curse, and I need all the help I can get. Will you be there by my side?"
Mel's gaze didn't weather. Instead, it became even more powerful than before. She held his hand in his where the rune was carved into his skin.
"I've seen the madness great power can inflict on a soul," she said, glancing sideways to the hammer before returning to him. "You have my word, the Hexgate will be destroyed even if it will be the last thing we'll do."
Jayce laid his forehead gently to hers. God, he missed her warmth. "Thank you, for everything. I won't fail."
Just before either of them could truly relax, a presence that made Jayce's skin crawl has decided to make itself known. He reached towards his weapon just as Mel began to glow.
Both of them aimed towards one of the pillars, their combined effort turning it to smithereens without actually hitting their target.
They stared at the other in shock. They obviously had a lot to talk about. But with the silent agreement of later. They had bigger matters at the moment.
Such as the figure they attacked slowly moving towards them. A porcelain puppet with golden edges but no strings. Small crystals shard embedded in its skull. The energy of being something so completely wrong to exist.
Viktor.
"Allow us a moment of civility, Jayce."
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Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 09
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.
⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.
It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.
NOAH
If that punching bag could speak, it would beg for mercy. Sweat heated my skin, and with every punch against the rubbery surface, an overstrained grunt sliced through the air.
"I think that's enough for today, Noah," someone said from a distance, but my focus was locked on the back-and-forth motion of my clenched fists, ignoring how they throbbed painfully with each strike.
This was the only way to unload everything consuming me without smashing my head into some random passerby while walking down the street.
The past few days couldn’t have been more hellish. I couldn’t write, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and all I was left with was being forced to see that woman at every rehearsal and act like she didn’t exist.
Impossible when she was everywhere.
"I just said it seems like enough for today, Noah!" The same voice broke the short space between me and the punching bag as it pulled me away from it. "What the hell is wrong with you today? You seem like you're on another planet!"
The trainer stood in front of me, arms crossed, while I slid down the wall until I sat on the floor. My chest heaved uncontrollably as I stared at his calves through the strands of sweat-soaked hair hanging over my face.
Training at night was good; I liked the empty gym, especially when I used it as an escape.
"My head's full of crap, that's all," I spat, removing the wraps around my fists.
"Anything I can help with?"
"Only if you can hit me hard enough to induce permanent amnesia," I tried to joke, but my voice came out more morbid than anything else.
"Actually... I might be able to do that!" The tall, bald man with bulging veins on his temples shrugged. "But forgetting, even temporarily, won't make your crap disappear."
"And who said I want anything resolved? The sooner everything goes to hell, the better."
I definitely didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it came out automatically, and he should ignore it. My good moods were so rare that, to him, this probably felt like just another normal day.
"It might be a relief for a while, but the body reacts differently than your mind. Even if your mind didn’t remember anything, you'd live with the feeling that something’s missing every time it relives memories, habits, interests, and tastes," he added. "Like when you touch an object and your body reacts instantly, or when you visit a place and your insides speak for themselves."
What utter nonsense, for God’s sake.
"Got it," I said, giving him a thumbs-up with a straight smile, as if that load of crap actually made sense.
"Fine, fine, call me crazy, Mr. Know-It-All!" He rolled his eyes, turning his back. My gaze swept the room, watching as he picked up gloves and bags scattered on the floor, placing them on the shelves.
Leaving the gym, I regretted not grabbing a jacket earlier as the wind hit me on the street. Walking to the parking lot, I unlocked the car with a click, and before getting in, I heard a brief cluster of voices in the distance. Turning around, I saw a group of four girls bundled up in band hoodies, phones in hand.
I couldn’t explain why, but a discomfort seemed to envelop me as they approached, realizing I wasn’t about to flee.
“Noah, would you mind taking a picture with us?” asked the tallest girl, her short hair tucked behind her ears.
Well, maybe there was no harm in that.
“Of course! Let’s do it!” I forced a brief smile as they gathered around me.
A guy passing through the parking lot helped take the photo, and I held the smile until he finished.
“Thank you so much, Noah. I hope you’re doing okay!” said another girl with colorful streaks in her hair, stepping aside.
“I am, thanks for asking.”
I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
It wasn’t that I hated my fans or anything. In fact, I’d always been able to separate those who genuinely appreciated the band’s work respectfully from those who felt entitled to my personal life, as if it didn’t belong to me or as if I wasn’t an adult capable of handling my own decisions.
But I couldn’t deny that most of the time, I wished to be a voice without a face. I loved writing music, I loved singing, and I never doubted it was for me since the first time I did it. I just wasn’t so sure that back then, I’d also wanted everything that came with it.
The way I felt uneasy in most recent social interactions made it clear how I felt.
“We just wanted to let you know that no matter what happened, we’re on your side. Always!” she emphasized, and my brows furrowed as my expression darkened.
“What are you talking about?”
“It was on a news channel—speculations that the Bad Omens vocalist’s overdose was her ex-boyfriend’s fault.” The information came with a phone placed in my hand. “They dug up videos of you two arguing at the festival, and now they’re blaming you.”
“They’re piecing together moments from shows where things seemed tense and comparing how she’s been since your breakup,” added a redheaded girl, taking the phone from my hand. “But we’re rallying in your defense. We know she was always the problem, and we won’t let her fans drag your name like that.”
Every misfortune seemed to fall short of what I deserved.
“Look, I’m sure you all have better things to do than worry about this,” I assured them, stepping back closer to the car. “I don’t need lawyers for the internet court. Take care.”
With a final fake smile, my eyes narrowed as I turned my back on them and got in the car. Before starting the engine, I still caught one last complaint.
“It’s incredible how he defends that girl even in the middle of this circus. I don’t understand what the hell she has!” she fumed, stomping her feet and crossing her arms.
That was an excellent question.
I was far too focused on the traffic, humming Sicko Mode by Travis Scott, tapping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. I couldn’t help swaying in a little dance as if nothing was wrong. The sunlight was strong, so I pulled my sunglasses from my hair to better see the road.
For a fleeting moment of distraction, I glanced in the rearview mirror, and a chilling sensation washed over me for no reason. Behind my car, a dark-windowed SUV waited at the same red light. There was no reason for concern—I knew cars like that were common around here.
But the unease grew, gnawing at me, as I decided to test my suspicion when the light turned green. Casually, I turned the first corner to shake it off, but it didn’t take long for the driver of the SUV to appear on the narrow street, blatantly trailing me.
I pressed the gas pedal moderately, and the bastard matched my pace. He didn’t seem intent on cutting me off, maintaining a safe distance—just enough to let me know he was there, aiming to unsettle me.
I tried to keep control, ignoring my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the mirror. Accelerating down the second avenue, I ran a red light, weaving through the crossing traffic to shake the pursuer, my pulse racing in rhythm with the car’s speed.
No time to think. I veered sharply into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with another vehicle that slammed on its brakes. The blaring horn couldn’t even dampen the sinister adrenaline coursing through my veins, heating my blood alongside my labored breathing.
I yanked the wheel, swerving into the first open alley I spotted, slowing just enough to notice the SUV caught in the chaos I’d caused at the intersection, freezing the traffic behind it.
But what the hell was that?
After another meeting in the office, everyone was ready to leave. I was really determined to keep my promise when I said she had died to me yesterday.
Today, I only thought about her three thousand times.
When I passed through the door, I saw that she was right behind me, and it was incredible how every time things were tense between us, she somehow managed to look six times more stunning, as if just to provoke me.
The funniest part was that she didn’t have to try very hard to do it.
“Are you okay?” My steps instinctively halted when I heard her voice. “You seemed agitated when you got to the meeting, and…”
If I were speaking to her, I would’ve surely said that a big part of my irritation came from people spreading lies about us online again and some lunatic racing me on the road just a few minutes earlier.
“I really wanted to talk to you about something,” she insisted, gently touching my back, which I quickly pulled away from. Her fingers carried electricity, and just the slightest contact with my skin was enough to turn my brain into useless mush.
But I wasn’t about to break the silence game.
“Noah?” Gerard poked his head out of the room, interrupting the moment. “Can I talk to you?”
“Sure.”
Relieved, I exhaled deeply, keeping my back turned to her as I walked into the room. I hated the smell of cigars and strong alcohol that filled the place, and I couldn’t stop glaring disgustedly at the leather furniture, worried the scent would stick to me.
“Just seeing the number of attendees in today’s meeting told me your conversation didn’t go well, did it?”
“Did you call me here to talk about work, or are you looking to catch up on gossip? I’m sure any website could keep you more updated than I could,” I retorted as I slouched in the chair, legs spread, letting my head fall to the side.
Fortunately, I wasn’t very expressive.
“I called you because I care about you two, and of course, this news shook me—not just because it’s a sad decision coming from someone young like her…” Gerard paused dramatically, and I raised a single eyebrow. “But because I’m worried about you in all of this.”
Fascinating.
“It happened exactly as I imagined. There’s no way she could’ve handled another wave of hate after all these months being labeled as problematic. Noah, I knew she’d eventually find a way to drag you into it, to share the blame!”
“I don’t follow the news, so I’m out of the loop,” I lied shamelessly.
“So you haven’t noticed she hasn’t defended you or denied anything being said about you? Noah…” He took a deep breath, clasping his hands with a thick gold ring on his ring finger over the messy desk. “I’ve been your age, and I know what love does to people, especially when it’s one-sided.”
Nothing annoyed me more than people circling endlessly around a topic instead of just saying it outright. We weren’t at a lecture or a sermon, and outside this place, dragging things out made no sense.
It was impossible not to stare at him with more disinterest as I rested my hand on my chin.
“I know you probably think this is all nonsense, but I can’t let you forget what happened the last time an issue between you two crossed personal boundaries and hurt the band,” he stressed, drawing a line on the desk. “I took the hit, and you… well, no need to comment—just search your name online.”
“Every day revisiting the same topic. Don’t you have a new, important agenda to make my visit worthwhile?”
“This will remain the topic until you stop behaving like you’re ready to throw it all away for that disturbed girl again!” He finally bared his claws. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t, even for a second, think it was betrayal for her to throw you to the wolves and save her own skin?”
I’d reached my limit for the day, clearing my throat into my fist before standing and stretching my back. Slowly, I leaned over the desk, bringing my face close to his while locking eyes and moistening my lips with my tongue.
“Gerard, dear…” I whispered so softly it almost sounded like a song. “You can take my band, my money, my rights, my songs, even the damn socks I sell. But my personal life? That’s still none of your damn business!”
“It becomes my business when she manipulates every thought in your head and keeps you from doing your job!”
“As you’ve noticed, we’re no longer together. She made her choice yesterday, and now our relationship is purely professional. I couldn’t care less about what she does from now on, as long as it means she sings properly and does her job!” I declared. “Now, please stop bothering me with things that aren’t my responsibility or interest. I’ll keep ensuring my part is done.”
A strangely triumphant smile formed on his lips, and I watched as Gerard nodded slowly.
“Perfect!” he exclaimed, giving two light pats to my cheek. “I knew I could count on you!”
Breathing outside that room again felt like being reborn, if such a thing was possible. The entire way out of the office, I tried to push his words out of my head, though they carried a shred of truth.
I couldn’t forget that when everything fell on her shoulders, I had the same reaction, if not worse, staying silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. But it never did, and now it made sense for her to use a winning hand against me.
She knew I couldn’t do anything on my own, and that gave her free rein to do whatever she wanted. But it was undeniable how bitter it tasted to feel like a stepping stone for her unstable ego.
Outside, I paused at the entrance as rain washed over the dry, empty streets of the city. It wasn’t heavy, but the few drops that hit my face were cold and powerful enough to conjure a mirage before my eyes.
Ahead on the road, there was nothing but trees past the shoulder. In the middle of the asphalt, two people—a couple—smiled as they ran, chasing each other like there was no fear of tomorrow. They danced even without music, and it seemed like the first time the boy had ever felt truly happy about something. He looked free.
Shaking my head to push away the revisited memory, I headed toward the studio, which wasn’t far. Outside, amid the laughter and the sound of guitar riffs, there she was, her voice like a spell capable of putting me in an automatic trance every time I heard it.
Passing through the gate slowly, I walked toward the back of the vast yard. She and my friends were gathered, Jolly and she doing a duet—more precisely, a cover of Decode. Even as they seemed to be having fun, she didn’t go off-key once.
The raspiness of her voice, the beginnings of delirium watching her sit there smiling between verses on a bench with the microphone in hand—it took me back to the bar’s back room, watching her sing in absolute silence. There was no technique, no production, no effect—nothing could compete with the absurd talent I desperately wished the world would know.
The same place where I first saw her and swore I’d never seen anything like it, the same place where I fell hopelessly in love with the insane woman who had a desperation for life, for proving how free she was, enough to infect me with the same poison.
I hated her.
I hated her so much.
⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ;
#Spotify#bad omens#noah sebastian#bad omens band#bad omens fanfiction#fan fiction#bad omens fic#fanfic#noah sebastian davies#noah sebastian fan fiction#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian bad omens#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian davis#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fan fic#smut fan fiction#fanfic writing#fan fic writing#smut
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A wall of books surrounded Hermione. Books on wards, charms, messaging via magic and other means in the wizarding world. Draco was clever, but she could not wrap her head around this morning’s message.
Or the horrible dream she had…
Hermione had slipped halfway down the large wooden chair, her legs folded like a pretzel. Her wild hair acted as a cushion. Normally she’d appear proper while sitting. Despite her strong feminist ideals, she knew that she had to work four times as hard as every one else and any “improper” image would work against this hard work. However it was not even 6:30 in the morning. No student in their right mind would be in the library at this time.
So when a low and annoyed “Mione” can out of nowhere, she nearly jumped out of her skin, knocking the book on the edge of her knee down with a thud.
Ron was on the opposite end of the table, eyes wide, “sorry… Mione, I’m glad you’re here. Parvati said you never got back last night.”
Hermione sat up, eyes furrowing. “I didn’t know you could get up this early, Ron,” she drawled. Clearly Draco was rubbing off on her because Ron looked shocked.
She reeled it in, “Ron, excuse me, I’m positively pissed off. I was locked out last night because of our incredibly stupid argument.” Reel it in more, Hermione. “So, you can probably tell that I slept horribly.”
“Yeah, anyway, I was worried.” He mumbled looking away.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. He could have looked for her. Although… then he would have found her out. Still, him being worried was just words at this point.
“Ron, I appreciate your worry, but I’m a big girl. We’re fine. Just let me get back to my work and we can see each other at breakfast.” She quickly picked up her book and made to start her research again, looking away from a very exhausted looking redhead.
She heard a chair being pulled up to her and nearly groaned. Hermione refused to look up until a warm hand was placed on her thigh.
“Mione,” Ron whispered leaning into her, “that’s just it. We’re not fine.”
Hermione stared into his eyes. Although Ron fell into irrational thinking and was quick to anger, he was a smart guy… he was perceptive enough. She knew he cared deeply for her. Pain and guilt hit her like a ton of bricks. Ron may not know what was wrong, but he knew she was not just building a wall of books. Hermione had been distancing herself for quite some time.
“Ron, I’m so sorry. I haven’t been myself,” she touched his cheek and he closed his eyes leaning into her more. “None of us have been ourselves. Harry is more paranoid than ever…”
“For good reason,” he whispered bringing his hand to the back of her neck.
“Yes for good reason…” Hermione said. The three of them were scared. The order was scared… not that any of the older members would ever admit it around them. Hermione’s thoughts began to spiral and she was chewing her lip so hard she was sure the skin would break.
“Hey, hey,” Ron grabbed her face with both hands bringing her focus back to him, “we’re okay. We’ll get through this together.”
He leaned in to gently kiss her while rubbing her temples with his thumbs. And this is why she had started something with Ron in the first place. He could bring her out of those thoughts for a moment… he just couldn’t keep her out of them. And Hermione quickly realized that her puppy dog love was not romantic love but deep love for a friend.
Her heart hurt again, but instead of distracting herself with thought, she wanted to distract herself with touch. Hermione deepened their kiss, fully turning to him. She leaned into him as his mouth opened up for her to explore.
How could she even have started this thing with Draco when Ron could give her this comfort.
Draco. She remembered Draco’s hand on her hips and in her hair and… well, everywhere. A shiver ran up her spine and heat pooled in her stomach.
This. This was why. Ron didn’t make her feel like that at all. So when Ron started inching his hand up her skirt, she pulled away.
“Sorry, Ron…” Hermione saw the frown forming on his face, “not now. Not in public.”
“Of course. I just love kissing you Mione.” He squeezed her leg before sitting back. He panned his eyes over the 40 books stacked on the table, “what the bloody hell are you researching?”
“Oh, uh charms and messages and such. Nothing interesting,” she answered quickly. Going too far into it would only bring more questions.
“Right, I’m already bored out of my mind.” Ron chuckled. Hermione smoothed her features trying not to react in annoyance. She supposed this was her other reason. She needed someone who was interested in the pursuit of knowledge. Ron had checked out on schooling.
“See you at breakfast?” Hermione asked, wanting to get back to her reading.
Pushing his chair back as he stood, he gave her a final squeeze on her shoulder, “I suppose. See you soon. Maybe I can catch another hour of sleep.”
Ron sauntered off and Hermione let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding.
Hermione paced the library after hours needing time to clear her head after a row with Ron.
“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”
Hermione’s eyes snapped towards the uppity, sharp sounding voice.
“Shut up, Malfoy. Let’s not pretend you don’t know why I’m here.”
Malfoy smirked, looking her up and down slowly. Then he was crowding her space, grabbing her arms and pushing her against the table.
“Weasel couldn’t get you there??” He sneered grabbing her chin.
“I’m not here to talk.” Hermione stared into his icy eyes trying not to think about his other hand digging into her hip.
“Not here to talk. Is that right, Granger?” He hoisted her onto the table and stepped between her. Leaning into her neck, Granger fluttered her eyes closed. Now it was time for some relief.
Malfoy chuckled breathing onto her neck and swiping her mane away. No kiss came. “What if I wanted to talk?” He breathed into her.
Grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer, Hermione tried to shut him up. For gods sake, why was he not just kissing her already!?
He nuzzled his nose into her neck and chuckled again before pushing away.
“What the hell!?” Hermione was enraged. From Ron to Malfoy and his snooty, rich, asshole, strikingly handsome self, men were really pissing her off tonight.
She met his eyes, red painting her cheeks in embarrassment. Malfoy was already staring at her, eyes dark and predatory.
“First you want to talk and now you’re barely even breathing. Gods, you’re so fucking moody and weird sometimes?”
His nostrils flared as he looked at Hermione sprawled on the table. He looked like he could avara her on the spot. Her eyes widened as she straightened up.
“Stop using me every time you have a little fight with your boyfriend.” His jaw ticked. Was he actually pissed off? “Better, yet. Stop talking to me altogether until you’ve fixed that situation.”
Hermione’s brows stitched together, “fixed the situation? What…”
“Oh, please, don’t play fucking dumb. You’re much brighter than this.” Malfoy scoffed, “maybe we can resume this and move our little library rendezvous to something more comfortable. Dump your little weasel and we’ll talk.”
“I…” Hermione was completely bewildered.
“No.” He breathed sharply, “Send me a note when you decide what to do.”
And with that he was half way down the aisle.
Hermione didn’t realize she was holding her breath… so much for clearing her mind.
#dramione fanfic#dramione fandom#fanfiction#harry potter#hermione granger#text#text post#writers on tumblr
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hearing someone else (the dog groomer) validate every concern i had about the dogs that my parents kept putting off becos. idk they couldnt be bothered and didnt want to spend money. well it made me want to punch things but im good now
#i didnt think id have to tell them they need to be brushed but apparently i did.#i said something looked wrong with their ears they said google it its probably fine#i said somethings wrong with their skin they said probably fine.#it SOUNDS LIKE YOU DONT WANT A FUCKING DOG AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT WOULD HAPPEN#this is why i didnt want dogs and then they keep insisting No you guys are the ones that wanted dogs#like no. who has the car. who paid. who looked for the dogs. like at every stage it was Their Decision and they could have said no#but they got it becos in their heads their obligations ended at paying for their food.#anyway. again im significantly calmer right now i know unbelievable but ive had really bad moments.#and i wont reiterate my thoughts during that time here. but suffice it to say i already knew#that i did not have the wherewithal to take care of a dog in addition to myself#and yet here i am. and im ready to kill Something over it#all because No one wants to drive to the fucking vet.
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the pro
part ii: what we're willing to accept
Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.
Notes: My brain chose violence this morning. Not beta-read because when is it ever.
Length: 4.8K
Warnings: Slow burn; unhappily married reader; divorced Art Donaldson; infidelity; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; unsafe sex
Summary: Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.
He's the biggest men's tennis star since Andy Roddick.
That’s what your husband says, as if it’ll entice you. As if you know anything about tennis, about the pro that your husband says will be coming to the house to teach you to play.
It’ll be good for you. You need a hobby.
You don’t gripe or argue. You don’t tell him that five months into your marriage shouldn’t have you looking for a new hobby. You should still be in the honeymoon stage, spending all of your time with him, hanging off of his arm, off of his every word. But he works so much and he’s away so often—
I don’t want you to get bored.
It’s a sweet gesture. The maid handles the housework; you have a chef that handles most of the grocery shopping and cooking, unless you insist on making something yourself; you have a housekeeper that arranges for anything you need—dry cleaning, maintenance. And it’s no wonder that with all of his money, his power, he can just order a retired pro tennis player up to your house, like you’d order a pizza. There’s a tennis court in the back of the mansion, a few feet from the pool. You’ll get some new outfits, the best sneakers, the nicest rackets. You’ll finally have something to do to fill your days.
Art Donaldson.
You know his name before the lean, fair-skinned patrician man turns up at your front door. He trails you through the house, politely declines your offer of a beverage.
“You ever played tennis before?” He asks.
You haven’t. Before your husband arranged this for you, you hadn’t so much as given the sport more than a passing thought. You don’t have the heart or confidence to tell that to a man that’s made tennis his whole life, so you just give him a small, guilty smile and say no, you haven’t. He nods, waves you off, insists that it’s fine.
“We’ll start with the basics.”
--
Two months of lessons on the basics make your arms tired, and your hands sore. But where your swings are clumsy and your grip is weak at first, you can see improvement in the way that you move. Your steps are less clumsy when you go after a ball; you’re more aware of the service line and the base line; your forehand stroke from contact to your left shoulder is smoother; your rotation and follow-through on your backhand is coming along, but has a long way to go.
Art’s instruction is calm and steady. He explains technique as much as he demonstrates it. When you get something wrong, he doesn’t scold, just lightly corrects. When you do something well, his encouragement is constant and free-flowing. Every accurate move and motion is met with, “Nice,” or, “Perfect,” or, “That’s it.”
On the days when you don’t have a lesson with Art, you practice. You order a tennis ball machine to work on your forehand and backhand. You attempt (and fail) to learn how to slice on your own. You try anyway—you can only imagine the way his eyes might light up if you manage to surprise him.
You’ve tried to ignore the rising interest that you have in Art, but you can’t help the little…Crush that’s developed. He’s just so attentive, and kind. When you find yourself smiling these days, it’s often because of something that he said, or did. You can’t remember the last time your husband made you feel giddy this way. It was probably when you started dating—before you’d made the decision to marry for comfort, rather than love. Your husband is practical, rarely physically affectionate, more heavily involved in his job and social circles than with you.
But you’ll have to find a way to thank him. He’s given you a hobby, and a man that grins at you like you just painted the goddamn Mona Lisa when you serve your first ace.
--
“So, tell me about the Mark Rebellato Academy.”
Art smiles, dipping his head as he reaches for his coffee. It’s taken a few months, but you finally convince him to have something to drink with you after practice. Your chef is blessedly out shopping for ingredients for dinner, so you have the kitchen all to yourself. Art has watched you putter around, seeming surprised that you know where everything is. You can’t blame him; the kitchen is chef-grade, and you don’t cook much these days.
“Did your husband tell you that’s where I went?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
You’re too embarrassed to admit that you’ve done some googling, and watched a couple of clips of him interviewing before and after his matches.
“I’ve just heard,” You fib. “Tell me about it?”
He leans back in his seat, eyes skating across your face as he seems to consider something.
“What do you wanna know?”
“Did you enjoy it? I mean—” It feels like a dumb question once it’s out, and you hurry to redirect, “With what you know now, if you had the choice, would you have learned how to play tennis somewhere else?”
He considers for a moment, trailing his finger over the side of his cup. Your gaze flits to his fingers, and your own flex around your mug handle. You’ve spent far too much time looking at and thinking about Art’s fingers—their length and quickness; the slight roughness of his calloused hands; the lingering tan line from where his wedding band used to sit.
“Yeah,” He admits, drawing your full attention back to his face. “I would. It was foundational, you know. I’ve been thinking of sending Lily there.”
“Lily?”
A bittersweet smile twists his lips. “My daughter.”
“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.
“Tashi, uh—” He clears his throat, “Lily’s mother, my ex-wife. She and I are thinking about schools.”
“I’m sure they’d be glad to have her. Does she play tennis?”
“Little bit. She didn’t start until last year, but she's a natural.” He clears his throat again, presses, “Are you and your husband planning on having kids?”
“Oh god no.” You blurt it out, and realize as he raises his brows that you’ve spoken too quickly. You lean back in your seat, stirring your coffee quickly to distract yourself from your growing embarrassment. “He actually has kids already. Two girls, seven and ten. They’re at boarding school and they stay with their mother when they're on vacation. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with them.”
“...He seems to be pretty busy.”
“He is.”
“So it’s just you in this big house?” He tips his head to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. “What do you do all day?”
“Play tennis.”
He grins, chuckling, and your stomach flips at the sound.
“It shows, you know,” He says.
“What do you mean?”
“I can tell you’re practicing without me. And,” He leans across the table, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin of your bicep, “You’re getting stronger.”
You wonder if he can see or feel the goosebumps that break out across your skin at the gentle sweep, his gaze heavy on yours.
“I have a good teacher,” You murmur. Art’s lips twitch with a soft smile, his hand gently cupping your arm.
“Just good?” He plies.
“The best. A real pro.”
His smile widens, and the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip makes your face go hot. You know that you’re caught when Art’s touch becomes firmer, pulling your arm toward him just a little.
The sound of approaching footsteps startles you, and you hurriedly tug your arm away. The sight of your husband makes your heart leap into your throat.
“There you are,” He smiles. “Art, how’s she doin’?”
“She’s killing it.”
You don’t dare look at him, but you can feel the weight of his attention lingering on you still. You just give your husband a smile, tipping your cheek up obligingly as he leans down to kiss it.
“Actually, Art,” Your husband straightens up, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s a charity event for a local club this month. It’s for uh…What is it?” He squeezes your shoulders for answers, and you have to keep from rolling your eyes.
“It’s a charity tennis match to raise funds to fix up the local courts. They need resurfacing and they’re raising funding to keep the fees down.”
“We could use a sponsorship from the foundation,” Your husband adds.
“Honey,” You glance back, wary of insulting Art. But—
“I’ll do it,” Art agrees. “Send me the details.”
“Excellent,” Your husband grins. “Maybe we could coax you into a match or two.”
You don’t chastise him this time—not when you see something light up in Art.
“Maybe.”
--
You haven’t seen Art play before. You’ve specifically avoided it. You’ve known that when you saw it, you would be too intimidated to do a damn thing on the court with him. But now, you can’t stop watching him. You don’t even care that you probably look so out of place—where everyone else is watching the ball, you’re just watching him.
His movements are so neat, so precise. It’s like watching a dance. He’s running the poor guy on the other side of the net up and down the court. And the sounds that he’s making—god. Every little grunt and groan is weaving increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind. You already know that you’ll seek out the memory of those sounds, as you reach between your legs later. His shirt clings to his chest, showcasing the muscles that you’ve always suspected he has. Strands of hair plaster to his forehead as sweat drips over his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, over his jaw.
When he scores a match point and he looks toward the cheering crowd—when his eyes land on you instantly, without having to search—it’s like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. You can’t think, or move. You barely have the focus to applaud, but you manage to raise your hands and clap.
--
Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.
Coffee becomes a post-lesson ritual. He starts to stick closer and closer to you as he follows you into the house until he begins to rest his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your door. He keeps nearby when you’re making it, brushes droplets of sweat off of your forehead or neck. Every touch is electrifying; you have to make a concentrated effort to keep your hands steady, your face neutral as your heart pounds and your stomach floods with butterflies.
He pushes you harder on the court, and you force yourself to meet the level that he sets for you, even when you don’t feel confident in it. But you want to make him proud.
It spurs you to lunge a little too far.
The sharp stabbing pain in your left ankle makes you shriek, and you tumble to the ground, dropping the racket with a clatter. You hear the pounding of his feet, glance up just in time to see him clear the net before he’s on the ground at your side.
“What hurts?”
“My ankle,” You grit out, hissing softly as he helps you straighten your leg out. He smooths his hands over your calf, leaning over you and gently guiding your foot in a few different directions. You whimper as he starts to guide your foot to the left.
“Okay, okay,” He soothes, “Let’s get you inside.”
For as much as you damn the throbbing in your ankle, you thank it a little, too. You lean heavily against Art, making the slow, arduous journey back to the house with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle.
When your husband comes home, he finds you with on the couch with Art coming back in from the kitchen, an ice pack in your hand.
You’d hope for concern, but your husband frowns, glances at the swelling knob of your ankle, and simply asks: “What did you do?”
“She lost her balance.” Art sits down on the other end of the couch, soothing you as the chill of the ice pack makes you shift with discomfort.
“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” Your husband presses. “We have dinner at the Fineman’s.”
“I'm still going, don't worry about that."
“...Tomorrow might be a bit soon,” Art warns.
“I’ll be okay. It’s just a sprain, right?” You tip your brows up, hoping, praying that he’ll agree for your sake. His fingers flex around the ice pack, jaw ticking as he clenches it. He doesn’t say a word as your husband sighs heavily, grumbles, “I hope so. Still, we should put a pause on the lessons until she’s fighting fit again.”
Art finally tears his eyes from yours, a tight smile on his lips.
“Of course.”
--
“How’s the ankle?”
It takes you a moment to scrounge up an answer. You can’t believe that he called. You knew that Art had gotten your number when you started taking lessons with him, but he’s never used it beyond texting to confirm a lesson time now and again.
You look down at the still-swollen flesh as it strains against the thin strap of your slingbacks.
“Fine,” You lie, “It’s um—” You glance over your shoulder, listening for your husband. “It’s not that bad.”
“Good enough to walk on?”
Hardly.
“Yes.” You think you’ve gotten away with it, but when you hear Art sigh and chastise, “You should rest,” You know that you haven’t.
“I have,” You insist, “All day.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes.”
“You can tell him no, you know.”
Your mouth works wordlessly, body going hot with indignation. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can’t tell him that he’s wrong, that your husband’s connections are the lifeblood of his business. You can’t tell him that if your husband’s business falls apart, you won't be able to afford those tennis lessons, and then how the hell are you supposed to see Art again?
You just yank your phone away from your ear and hang up.
--
I invited Art.
It shouldn’t be a surprise, but your husband’s statement makes you feel like you’ve swallowed your tongue. You haven’t seen or spoken to Art in nearly two weeks. Your doctor recommended putting off any physical activity, which your husband surely relayed to him. He was the one whose name was on Art’s checks, after all.
Your husband has always thrown a massive party to kick off the summer. Every year, 150 of your husband’s closest family, friends, and business associates flooded into the house. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that your husband invited Art after the performance he had given at the fundraiser—$25,000 from the foundation, and ticket sales went through the roof when it had been announced that the Art Donaldson would be making an appearance. Your husband owed Art a lot, and probably saw this as an opportunity for him to network, to take on more clients. He had been evangelizing Art’s training to any of your friends that would listen—how good you are on the court, how engaged and energetic you seem to be these days.
It’s one thing to know that you’ll have to put on a happy face for the crowd, but to know that Art will be among them makes your insides twist with nerves. You can’t stop thinking about the way that he had spoken to you when you were hurt; his calm, steadying demeanor as he’d gotten you inside; the careful coaxing and gentle touch that he’d used as he’d taken your shoe off and examined your ankle more closely.
You think about it now, as you strap on another pair of heels. Your ankle really is doing well, though you have a little lingering pain in shoes like these. You’ll likely be on your feet for the length of the party; it’s going to be a long night. You look over yourself in the mirror, self consciously tipping your ankle from side to side for anything that he may spot or catch out. But there’s nothing, you reassure yourself. You slide your hands over the skirt, plastering on a smile as your husband pokes his head into your dressing room.
“Almost ready in here?” He asks.
“All set!”
--
He doesn’t come over to you. On the crowded patio, you can feel him watching you—you’ve gotten so used to seeking out the sensation that you can’t ignore it now. The first true look at him is agony. He watches you from just a few feet away, a glass of champagne in hand as he speaks with your husband and the Finemans. He openly looks you over, eyes drifting over your body to the flash of ankle revealed by the slit in your dress. He tips his head to the side just a little, squinting before his eyes flit back up to your face, lips twitching with a small smile.
You want to hate how good it feels; you want to be angry with him for his smug knowing, his insistence of You can tell him no, you know. But it feels so goddamn good to have his attention again that you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. You know that you’re staring—that you both are—and you force yourself to turn away and excuse yourself from the conversation you’re in. You go inside, murmuring your thanks for the waitstaff that pass you along the way.
The house isn’t nearly as busy as the patio, and you're able to slip into your darkened study unnoticed. You leave the lights off, certain that if you turn them on, people will be drawn in to bug you, like moths to a flame. The party’s lights and music filter in through the partially-closed blinds.
You lean against the desk, circling your ankle and wincing a little. You’ll hide for a few minutes, let it rest—
Your breath catches in your throat as the door opens. You expect your husband, ready to scold and usher you back to the guests.
You only have a second to get a look at Art before he shuts the door behind himself, plunging the room back into darkness. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as you use it to ground yourself.
“...Do you need something?” You ask, voice wobbling with nerves.
“Wanted to come say hi.”
“Well. Hi.”
You hear him chuckle, his footsteps muted by the carpet.
“Thanks for the invite.”
“It wasn’t my idea.” It’s not polite to admit, but you want it to sting him, just a little. Maybe it does; in the dim of the room, you can’t see Art’s expression as he comes to a stop just a couple of feet from you.
“Do you want me to go?” He asks. You know what you should say, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.
“No,” You whisper. You feel the heat of him as he comes closer, his hands resting on the desk and caging you in. You bite your lip as gently brushes his nose against yours.
“He isn’t taking care of you.”
“My ankle is fine.”
“I’m not talking about your ankle.” He lifts a hand, smoothing it over your hip as your breath mingles. Art’s fingers drift from your hip to stroke over the apex of your dress’s slit. His fingers slip further down, and you nod as he palms your thigh. Before you can say or do a thing, Art sinks to his knees. He curls his hand around your left calf, lifting it. You shiver as his lips press a gentle kiss to your ankle. His hand and lips travel up, easing the fabric of your dress higher with each second. The first brush of his knuckles against your panty-covered clit makes you jolt. Your hands dig into the wood of the desk as his fingers hook between the fabric and your skin. You lift your hips without a word, allowing him to draw them down.
Art presses a kiss to your mound before he lowers his head, giving your lips a sweet, sucking kiss. You gasp softly as his tongue swipes across your clit. You look down despite the fact that you can’t see him well. You can just make out his blissful expression, his eyes closed as his laps broadly across your aching cunt. You lower your hand to his neat hair, winding your fingers through it, unable to help grasping it. His heady moan vibrates against you and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You manage to just catch it, the sound dying in your throat as Art buries his tongue inside you. He sweeps his thumb over your clit in rush, harried circles, panting against your heated flesh. You rock your hips down against his lips, tightening your grip on his hair as you guide him. He lets you do as you please, whining against your skin as your movements become less controlled.
“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—”
He hums in encouragement, sucking your clit back between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. Your jaw drops open, your hand shoving Art even more tightly against your skin as you cum suddenly. A stunned, breathy moan slips from your lips as Art leans back, smearing his lips against the inside of your thigh.
You use your grasp on Art’s hair to draw him back up off of his knees, giving him a crushing kiss as he catches his balance. You swipe your tongue across his lips, whining against his lips as you taste yourself on him. He presses close, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You reach down, palming and squeezing his length as you trade slick, messy kisses. He steers you back onto the desk as you fumble to undo his belt, button, and zip.
“Condom?” He asks.
“Pill,” You reassure, shoving his pants down. You lap broadly across your palm, grasping Art’s length and guiding him closer. He brushes the tip of his cock against your still-throbbing clit, smiling as you whine. You’re going to ache tomorrow, but you’ve never been so happy to be sore.
“Art.”
“Sssh.”
“Please—” It’s hardly out of your mouth before he shoves his hips forward, seating himself fully with a single thrust. You bite down on your lip to quiet your moan, curling your arms around your shoulders. He rocks into you with firm, quick strokes, his mouth covering yours. You can hear things on the desk rattling with each thrust, kisses growing less controlled as he hoists your thigh up around his hip.
“Oh, god,” You breathe, “We have to be quick—He’ll come looking—”
“Not until you cum for me again,” He urges. “I need to feel it, sweetheart.”
“Art—”
“When’s the last time he did this? Hmm?” He presses, “When’s the last time he made you cum? When’s the last time he tasted you?”
“Never,” You admit with a shiver. It seems to renew Art’s passion, his thrusts and hold growing more intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands hooking tightly in the fabric of his jacket. He yanks the front of your dress down, bowing over you and drawing one of your nipples between his lips. You whimper as he toys with the bud, tugging it gently with his teeth before swiping across it. You arch into the slick heat, using your leg to tug him even closer as you chased the swelling curl of your orgasm.
“Just like that,” You urge, “Ffffuck—yes, yesyesyesyes—”
Your eyes squeeze shut as your hips buck down against his, pussy pulsing as he spills into you. Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of you slow and still. Art rests his forehead heavily against your neck, peppering gentle kisses across the exposed skin. You have to move—now. You don’t know if anyone heard you, but if someone did, you’re screwed. If no one did, your husband will probably be looking for you anyway, ready with a scold for neglecting your hostess duties.
“...I have to go,” You warn softly. It takes Art a moment to move, but he does, gently drawing himself back from your still-throbbing cunt. You hear the clanking of his belt buckle as he tucks himself away, and you reach down, righting your dress where it’s been pulled away. You take up your panties from where they’d been discarded on the floor, tugging them on before you straighten your skirt and hurry out of the room.
--
“Can I see you?”
It’s only been an hour since the last guest has left, and you are so, so fucking tired. You glance toward the bathroom door. You know that you locked it, and you’re certain that your husband can’t hear you over the shower running, but you can’t help but be paranoid.
“You just saw me,” You remind him.
“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies.
“Where?”
“I’ll send an address.”
You bite your lip, toying with your earring. Your pussy is still aching from the stretch of him, your ass sore from getting fucked on the desk.
“...You regret it?” He asks.
“No,” You don't give your answer a second thought.
“I’ll send an address. Whether or not you see me is up to you. Just…think about it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
You lower your phone, hanging it up and watching his contact information blink away. It’s only a moment before a text with an address lights up your phone. You don’t have to think about it. You already know what you’re going to do.
--
You know that you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Art has spent so much time in your home, so you feel entitled to look around a little bit. You eye the row of trophies on his mantle, photos of him playing when he was young. You come to a stop at a picture of him with a young girl, a racket in her hand and a medal around her neck.
“Is this Lily?” You ask.
“Yeah,” He nods. “First competition.”
“Already getting gold,” You smile. “The Mark Rebellato Academy isn’t ready for her.”
Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.
“You, uh…You want something to eat, or drink, or…?” He trails off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a couple of steps back toward his kitchen. You turn to face him, taking him in more fully.
“Art?”
“Yeah?”
“Why am I here?”
He doesn’t answer for a few moments. You can see him weighing his options before he comes closer.
“I…I’ve been thinking about last night.”
Fear shoots through you, but you force yourself to stand tall. “Okay.”
“I could lie and tell you that it should be a one-time thing, but I can’t remember the last time I got through a day without thinking about you. And I think you’ve been thinking about me, too.” Art stops as the tip of his shoes brush against yours, and you let your eyes slip closed as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” He pleads. “Tell me to fuck off right now and I will never say another non-tennis related thing to you again.”
--
When he fucks you, he curls close, chest pressing against yours as he catches your lips in a kiss. You sink back against his pillows, your head cradled by his broad palm as he rolls his hips achingly slowly. You don’t bother to hide your whines and moans, and you revel in his. Every grunt and whimper and groan that Art lets out lights you up.
And when you cum, you don't have to quiet yourself. His name tumbles out of your mouth, cushioned between expletives as your nails dig into his shoulders.
--
"What time is he home tonight?"
You don't want to think about it. You want to stay in this cozy little bubble, trailing your fingers over his muscled chest as he massages your nape and kisses your forehead.
But you know that you'll have to let the world back in sometime.
"I don't know," You admit. "Late."
"...Could stay."
"He'll be suspicious if I'm not home when he gets there."
Art sighs softly, running his hand down to rub between your shoulder blades.
"This isn't going to be easy, is it."
"What?"
"Letting you go every day."
"Every day?" You tease, pushing yourself up to get a better look at him. "Don't get greedy, Mr. Donaldson."
He smiles, raising his hand and cupping your cheek. "Is it greedy to know what I want?"
You shake your head a little, lowering your lips to brush against his.
"Not when I want it, too."
part ii: what we're willing to accept
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#Art Donaldson x Reader#Art Donaldson x You#Art Donaldson/Reader#Art Donaldson/You#Art Donaldson fic#Art Donaldson imagine#the pro
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𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗡 𝗢𝗨𝗧
pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader
word count: 1.2k+
summary: your boyfriend is there as you crash out in a race
warnings: pda, some swearing, injury mentions, protective lando, i guessed on some stuff | i do not know how certain things work in f1 so if i messed that up i am sorry 😚😔
Your pre-race playlist filled your ears as you leaned the side of your body against the wall of the track barrier. Even though you’d done this so many times before, it doesn’t lessen the nerves in your body. It wasn’t even your first time on this track, yet it had you picking the skin off you fingers as you zoned out.
You were pulled out as someone came up behind you and wrapped their arms around your waist, grabbing your hands and holding them in theirs. You knew who it was right when you saw their hands. You looked behind you to see your boyfriend. You freed your hand from one of Lando’s and took out an earbud. “Stop picking.” Is the first thing you heard out of him.
“Sorry,” you replied as you took the hand still holding his and brining it up to your mouth and kissed his knuckles, “just nervous.” He smiled softly at you and turned you around to pull you into his chest. “I know, but you’re going to do great.” “So I guess you see the future now, yeah?” You joked. He shrugged his shoulders, “one of my many talents.” “Sure.”
Lando had come to see you race because it was the one race that didn’t take place at the same time as his did. The Bahrain Grand Prix had just taken place about three days before. He had taken a day to himself before he came and joined you in Jeddah. It was challenging with both of your schedules but you made it work, you always did. You both knew the risks and the troubles of two F1 drivers dating, and you both were prepared.
He poked your cheek. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you. “Yeah. Just have a feeling something will go wrong today.” You said lowly as you looked at the cars on the track. “You’ll be fine, y/n. You’ve had this before and nothing happened.” You nodded into his chest as you breathed in and out. Right as you pulled away your race engineer came up to you and told you it was time. Lando kissed you and wished you good luck as you handed him your phone and earbuds and put your mask and helmet on.
Time passed quickly ━━ probably because of the adrenaline ━━ and before you knew it you were in your car watching the lights. Your hands felt sweaty under your gloves as you didn’t dare to blink. You didn’t want to miss it. As the lights went out, your car came to life and you sped ahead. That feeling of something going wrong was still there but you tried to shake it off and focus on the race.
Lando was in the garage with your engineer and mechanics, eyes peeled on the screen. He noticed how shaken up you were and he was worried. Like he said to you, you’d felt this before but this time he could tell something about it was different. His hands were shaking as he kept his eyes on you and talked to your engineer to try to calm himself down.
Your voice interrupted his senses as he watched you enter your 24th lap. “Somethings up with the tires, I’m getting no grip.” His eyes flicked to the man beside him. “Noted. See if you can hold on a little longer.” Your engineer’s voice filled your ears. “Got it.” Lando was left alone after that as your engineer got up to talk to the mechanics.
When the big screen showed your car, Lando got worried. He saw how little traction your tires had and how you were slipping on your turns. He could hear the commentators voice as well commenting on that as you finish the 27th turn and get ready to start your 25th lap.
As he watched you speed up the track, he didn’t even notice until after it happened. As you tried to turn on the first turn, you tires skidded across the track and you couldn’t complete the second turn, causing your car to crash into the barrier. It didn’t look too bad, but all Lando could hear was silence and all he could think about is if you were okay.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” Your engineers voice cut into the silence of the radio. He got even more worried when you didn’t answer. “Y/n? Baby?” Lando asked into the headset. More silence. He turned around to see if anyone knew what was happening until he finally heard your voice.
“Doing great.” You grunted. “Nothings broken ━━ I don’t think ━━ but my side does hurt. I think I might’ve bruised it when I hit the barrier.” Lando sighed it relief. He was right, it wasn’t too bad. Nothing was broken and you thought it was just a bruise.
“The safety car’s been deployed and it heading your way. Don’t go running anywhere.” You engineer instructed you. “Not going anywhere,” you joked with a light laugh before a hiss came out. With only some trouble you eventually made it out of the car and sat against the barrier to wait for the safety car. You could tell that Lando was worried by the sound of his voice . . . and because you know him. You and him were on the same wavelength, if you could describe it in any way. You felt things the same, and because of that you knew how the other was feeling. You felt the same when he crashed in the Las Vegas GP. It was almost the same too, you spinning out and hitting the barrier. It was entirely coincidental.
You sighed in relief when you saw the safety car ━━ you were ready to get out of there. Your side hurt like a bitch, way more than it did before, and your legs were starting to get tingly. The adrenaline must be wearing out. Lando never turned his gaze away from the screen as they put you in the safety car. He knew you were in good hands, but it ultimately didn’t matter to him. Anything could go wrong.
Lando was right beside you when you got out of the safety car and taken to the doctors on site before you were taken to the hospital. As you were in getting checked out the the doctors, Lando was rambling. “They should’ve taken you off the tires when you told them. They should’ve taken it more seriously. If they had then ━━“ You interrupted him by putting your hand over the one that was holding yours. “It’s fine. If I had felt more nervous I would’ve boxed anyway. Plus, Will would’ve done the same and you would be acting like me. It’s not their fault.”
He sighed, and you knew he knew that you were right. “I know, I just worry.” You kissed his hand, “I know you do. And I do too when the same things happen to you. But I’m fine. They’ll take me to the hospital where they’ll double check I have no injuries. If it makes you feel better I’ll even let you check.” You joked. He laughed and shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind that.”
The doctors eventually told you that you were good to go to the hospital. Nothing looked too bad, but it was standard procedure. You sat up with a groan and Lando immediately made a face. You shot him a look. “C’mon, I’m fine.” He didn’t agree. You rolled your eyes. “Let’s go, you’re coming with me to the ambulance. Maybe they’ll let you turn on the sirens.”
#emma writes#imagine#x reader#x fem!reader#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one#f1 academy#driver!reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic
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okay so dom!reader and sub!shoto who's always so in control and making people think that he's the one who tops in ur relationship not knowing that he's the one who cries for u to fuck him everyday, always begging for ur c0ck! whether he begs to cockwarm you or just simply wanting you to fuck him, he need you everyday!!
— LONNGGG WAIT. i hope this is good enough for y’all xx love ya
wrong sub — shoto.todoroki
— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Shoto Todoroki
— contents : mistaking u for a sub haha , does this count as exhibitionism probably . also super short ;(
warnings : none I thinke
✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
When people found out you and shoto were together, they would NOT shut up about how cute you guys were
You didn’t mind, shoto didn’t really gaf either but you kept pda to a minimum… don’t wanna be weird
Everything was fine to you, you had no issue whatsoever!
That was until you realized something. All the girls were SCREAMING in your face about how shoto is like in a relationship, I mean he’s never had a partner so you chuckled and looked over at your boyfriend who was minding his business.
You didn’t mind answering questions, this was cute wtv
“I mean he’s… still himself, but sweeter? He’s really cute” you let out a laugh and the girls aweeee
Then one of em asks, “is it big, does he do u well” you had to freeze and process
The other girls squealed and asked the same, it became clear to you. Shoto was the dom in the relationship to almost everyone….
It was said in FRONT of shoto too, you glimpsed at him and caught a small grin, like if he was PROUD TO BE SEEN AS YOUR DOM
You had to tease a tad bit loooollll
“you loveeee taking care of me, don’t you shoto?” You force him to look into your eyes as he stutters not knowing wether he should deny or go along with it.
He melted at your smirk and gave a small “I don’t know..” before looking away shyly.
Sigh if only people knew how much of a slut this guy was for you:((
Biting and scratching at his skin when you pound into him mercilessly, his moans are stuttery and sloppy. He’s out of breath, panting like a dog as you ram into that spot in his tummy.
He whimpers TONES and cums quick. Edge him for a while, it’ll have him squirming on your dick pathetically, begging for you to let him cum.
“p-please don’t sstop..!” but of course, you can’t let him finish already. You need him to be screaming so loud, your neighbors hear him.
You edge him for so much longer till he’s twitching and crying.
“c’mon, doll.. louder.. for everyone to hear, hm?” It didn’t take long for him to realize why you were doing this. He swallowed his pride and the second you started thrusting into him, he got louder and louder.
Like music to your ears.
a/n: i lowk fw this…. i like shoto i’ll have to fuck him up more
#boku no hero academia#my hero acedamia#bnha shoto todoroki#mha shoto#shoto x reader#shotou todoroki#shoto todoroki#bnha todoroki#shoto x male reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki x male reader#dom top reader#top male reader#male reader#smut#gay#mha x male reader#bnha x reader
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Patreon Commission for anon
Request: something with an orc and a female human? Something fantasy-based, maybe human owns a tavern? I'd be fine with whatever you thought worked though!
A/N: Sorry this is kind of late, life is hectic. Enjoy!
Kissing an orc
Orc x fem!reader || accidental exhibitionism, oral sex, groping
You are kneading the bread for the next day when the knock on the door startles you. “Your favorite orc is hereeeee,” your annoying naga helper sing-songs to you. You shush them in your way to the door, signaling them to stop or you’ll kill them. They chuckle and disappear to the front, a broom already on their hands. Good, at least they would stop being a little shit while they do the tavern cleaning.
You open the door and have to swallow a gasp. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him, it always amazes you how fucking beautiful he is. All giant, towering over you, with his beautiful olive skin and big tusks framing his appetizing mouth. Good goddess you’d give all your gold to be able to kiss him at least once to know how that mouth would feel against yours.
“Hi- hi,” you stutter. You chastise yourself, trying to act composed, but suddenly your skin feels too hot and your breathing is pushing your boobs a bit too forward.
“What was all that about? Am I your favorite orc? Do you know more orcs?” He looks so confused and adorable you want to pinch his cheek, but also kiss him senseless.
You look at him completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”
“Yes?” You aren’t sure if it’s a question or an affirmative.
You take a deep breath, thinking about all the possible possibilities of what you are about to do, but you are so fucking tired. You want to know, and if it goes wrong, you can always change hunters and find a new person or monster to bring you fresh meat for your tavern every day, right? Yeah. You can probably find somebody else, but you can’t wait more time to know how do his lips taste.
You stare into his beautiful dark eyes and answer truthfully: “Of course you are my favorite orc, I’ve been trying to ask you out for months.”
“What?” He looks so surprised you want to laugh, but the nervousness in your stomach prevents you to do anything. “But, but… I asked and you didn’t… you didn’t…” He takes a deep breath and starts again. “I asked you to meet me for breakfast and you said you had to work. I asked you if you wanted coffee and said you had to work.” As soon as he says that, you can remember a few other times he asked you for coffee or lunch or some snack and you always refused because you thought he did it just because he was nice, not because he was interested. Were you really that obvious?
You look at him, your face mirroring his surprise. “Oh.”
“You are just too cute for your own good, damn it.” He doesn’t wait for your answer before his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you breathless. “We could have been doing this for a long time if you just said so,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again.
Kissing an orc is even better than you imagined. His tusks frame your mouth perfectly and his lips are way softer than expected. He is perfect and you can’t even comprehend what he’s doing when he crouches and grabs your ass, pulling you up and walking inside, the deer he caught today left there, forgotten.
He moves around the kitchen like he owns it, and before you know it your ass is over a table and he’s kissing your neck, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. His hands are everywhere, tracing the edge of your corset, caressing your back and groping your ass over the skirt of your dress. His hands fit under the skirt and he goes up and up until his hand is over your center and you are panting, his mouth hot against your pulse point as he touches your vulnerable place.
He caresses your legs over your underpants and asks: “Can I?” His lips move against your neck when he talks and you have to suppress a tremor.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, already pulling the skirt of your dress up to your waist as he pulls down your underpants, kissing your leg along the way.
“Have somebody ever…?” He doesn’t have to say it, you know what he means. You aren’t a blushing virgin, but you never had enough trust in anyone to let them… kiss you there.
“I never… Nobody ever… Not there,” you try to explain.
He gets it instantly, kissing your mouth until your brain is far away from your worries and his dexterous fingers find your pearl, flickering it and making you bite down on his lip. He groans and you giggle against his lips, he kneels on the floor in front of you and goes for it.
You moan very loudly as inexplicably pleasure breaks through your body, making you throw your head back and arch your back in an arch that leaves your boobs about to spill over your corset. You are sure it looks sinful from his position, but when you open your eyes the only thing you see is his face still buried between your legs, your thighs pressing against the sides of his head so strongly you are worried you are going to hurt him, but his pleased sounds are good enough to make you groan again.
You cover your mouth to avoid screaming his name as his tongue does wonders around your lucky pearl, his tusks framing your pussy in a way that leaves you breathless and ready for more at the same time. It’s wonderful and marvelous and all the adjectives you can’t even comprehend as he sucks and licks your hot center, dragging all kinds of sounds out of you.
You’ve never felt that kind of pleasure, and as it starts to peak, you don’t know what to do with all of it. You grab his hair and pull, making him grunt as his fingers dig into your hips where he’s holding you still. You are messing up his braid, but you can’t care about it as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. It’s the most intense experience of your life and when the pleasure hits its peak, you have to bite down on your hand to avoid the cry that was about to leave your mouth.
He licks you through it, until your legs are trembling around his head and your pussy is pulsating in time with your heartbeat. He doesn’t stop there, he keeps milking all the pleasure out of you with such frantic need that you can’t do anything but match it. When your second orgasm hits you, the first one was still there, joining in the middle in the biggest wave of pleasure you’ve ever felt.
He kisses your pussy and your highs, not trying to make you untie your legs from around his head. His tender caresses are a contrast with the frantic devouring he just did, but it’s the best kind of contrast. You are still breathing hard and he’s still on the floor in front of you licking you clean when the door to the tavern opens with a screech.
“Dude! That’s where I make the bread!” The annoying naga screams as he opens the door just in time to see him kissing your pussy one last time.
#patreon commission#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#monster x reader#teratophillia#terato#monster boyfriend#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster love#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft#orc#orc x human#orc x you#orc x reader
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LADS: Carpet and Drapes | NSFW
Anyways I've been wanting to shave their pubes for a while, and tons of people I talk to agree with that statement so here we are. Shaving their pubes. Only quality content for y'all.
❧ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ❧ Warnings: Shaving Pubic Area, Slight Oral, Teasing, Suggestive Tones, Hand Jobs, Nothing is overly detailed since they're so short, Comedy ❧ Pairings: Sylus/Reader, Zayne/Reader, Rafayel/Reader, Xavier/Reader
Blog Information | Masterlist
Xavier
Xavier knew he was whipped. He knew that if you suggested anything, he’d probably allow it. This, however, was new territory. You had asked if you could shave him. At first he was confused because it’s not like he had facial hair, so what exactly are you shaving? Then your eyes had trailed down to his groin, and he had to pause for a moment, and he realized what you had meant when you said ‘shave him.’
It’s not like he was against being shaved down there. The only reason he didn’t do it himself was due to it being an extra step in the shower, and it’s not like you seemed to mind. Hell, you had even commented once that his pubes were way softer than normal. It wasn’t something he thought about, but if you said it was, then he was going to believe you. With that in mind, it gave him slight whiplash when you wanted to shave it now off, but he still found himself going along with your whims…yet again.
“Are you certain this is a good idea…?” Xavier asked after a moment as you looked up at him. You had already trimmed the hair back to make it easier before you got in the shower, and now he was cornered with water streaming down his chest. His back was against the cool tile as your hand smoothed some shaving cream over him. He gasped as he felt your hand getting a bit too close to his more intimate areas.
“I promise I won’t knick you.” Okay, so maybe it was your first time shaving someone else’s pubes, but it couldn’t be that hard…could it? Hell, you even had a safety razor. Surely nothing could go wrong. He could already feel how his body reacted to your touch, and he had to hold himself still as the razor finally made contact with him. It was easy with how soft his pubes were, the razor effortlessly gliding against his skin.
He allowed you to work; after all, you seemed to be focused on your task as you moved the skin to be taut. You were moving his thighs apart to get better angles, all while breathing over him. You looked up and noticed the flew of the muscles of his stomach and how they tensed up here and there. You could also see him getting a bit hard, his dick only half erect as you did this.
“Xavier,” you cooed, your eyes glancing up at him, “You doing good?” you said as you finished shaving the central area. Your hand pressed down on his cock so you could get a better shave right above it. You heard him let out a gentle sigh at you touching him; his cheeks were completely flushed at the moment, and he looked adorable like this.
“Ya, I’m doing good.” He muttered, knowing you had noticed his current state, “I promise, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine, Xavie. I would almost be offended if you weren’t getting hard with me between your thighs like this.” You said, letting the cascading water hit his now shaved pubes to wash off the rest of the shaving cream, “How about after I put on some aftershave, I help you out with your current problem?” you asked him, and he groaned at what you were implying. To add the cherry on top, you picked his dick up and placed it against your lips. You gently licked the tip, making him whimper and gasp at the sudden feeling. You smirked as you leaned over and kissed his smooth pubic mound.
“Alright…now bend over.” You said, and he paused, looking down at you with lidded eyes, “What? You thought I was just shaving this part, dear? Come on, spread them cheeks.”
“I…think I liked what you were doing earlier better.” He muttered, and you chuckled. He really was whipped.
Zayne
He didn’t know why you wanted to do this; after all, he was always shaved down there. You seemed too intent on doing this, so he just said okay. Sugaring. It didn’t seem like it would be that bad. You did tell him he would need to go a few days without shaving his pubes, something that he was struggling with. A week later, though, you decided it was long enough, the hairs being the length of rice grains.
You had set him down on his couch as you gathered the supplies. A jar of homemade sugaring wax was next to you as you prepped his skin. “Have you done this before?” he finally asked as you looked up at him.
“On my legs, yes. Yes, I have.” You said as you grabbed an applicator and scooped some of the substance up.
“So you’ve never done this in your pubic area before?” he asked, watching as you smeared the sugaring wax thickly onto the pubic mound. You hummed as you looked up at him. You went and kissed his inner thigh, and the man huffed at the action. Of course, you weren’t going to answer him. Instead, you used flicking motions to rip the hair out. Zayne let out a small hiss at the pain, closing his eyes for a moment as he realized what he had gotten himself into.
“See, it’s not that bad.” You said you are applying some more to a new area. Zayne felt himself relaxing for a moment as he looked down at you. His hand went to your hair, pushing some of it aside for a moment so he could get a good look at you. You blinked at him and then chuckled as you grabbed his hand and kissed the palm.
“The pain can be…subjective.” He finally got out, letting out another grunt as you flicked some of it off again. You repeated this motion until his entire pubic area was finished. Your hand smoothed over the area and noticed how it was perfectly free of hair. The skin itself even felt silky under your fingers as you drew little designs with your fingertips. Zayne cleared his throat to get your attention, “Is that really necessary?”
“Feel it.” You said, taking his hand and placing it over the area. He was flushed now as he felt the skin there, noticing how it was very smooth as he looked at you.
“This is what you wanted, I assume?” he asked, and you nodded your head. You kissed the mound there and finally looked down to see his dick was halfway hard. You took it in your hand and pumped it for a moment, watching as his almost judging gaze turned lidded the moment your warm hand was on him.
“We’re not done yet; why are you so hard already, my love?” You asked as you continued playing with it. Zayne rose a brow as he went to ask you exactly what you meant. Before he could speak, though, he felt your hand trailing down past his balls and right where his entrance was. He let out a gasp, then a small glare.
“Absolutely not.” He said, and you whined and kissed his thighs, “No.” He tried saying, but your hand was still playing with him.
“What if I made you cum before I did it?” you asked, and he rolled his eyes and bit down on his lip. You were making it very hard for him to think clearly right now.
“Why do you want to wax there?” he asked, and you chuckled as you went to lick a stripe up his dick. He groaned, wanting for you to just engulf his length already. This was almost teasing him too much right now. After the pain he had endured, it would be nice to feel some pleasure if you’d be willing to tonight.
“Because you sometimes miss spots since you can’t see it, but I can.” He looked even redder now as he looked away. You chuckled, “It’s fine, it’s not like I mind the hair, but I know you do. Please?” you asked, letting go of his cock for a moment.
Zayne looked down at you, then up at the ceiling, “Fine…”
Rafayel
“Put your leg over my shoulder already…” you muttered, nudging Rafayel’s thigh with your cheek. He let out a small groan as he adjusted his leg so it was now over your shoulder. He was watching you like a hawk as you lay down on your stomach. Your breath was ghosting along his crotch with every exhale, and it had him squirming, “And be still; I don’t want to cut you.” You sighed this time but smirked.
“How am I supposed to just be still like this?” he asked as he watched you use a straight razor along his pubic mound. You were working so hard to draw a little heart shape on there, and it had him shuffling a little bit underneath you. “I agreed to let you shave me, but this position is…” he muttered.
Your hand was currently pressing his dick out of your way. Occasionally, you’d feel it twitch under your palm. The man was hard before you had even gotten on your stomach for this; his reaction to you touching him and telling him how pretty he was had him riled up. “I know you can do it.” You said as you kissed his thigh, and he let out another lovely moan.
“Are you almost done?” he asked, looking at your work. It was a heart shape right in the middle of his pubic mound, and it was right above where the base of his cock was. You had made him so damn smooth with that razor, and it looked done now.
“Well, I still have more to shave after this.” You said, pushing his other leg open a but so you could get the inner thigh area. He let out a huff as he watched you.
“And where exactly do you still need to shave after this?” he said as he watched you close the straight razor handle. It was clear you were done with at least this area. You let go of his dick and looked at his now-hard dick. You moved it upwards as you used your now free hand to push him down to where he was lying there.
“I still need to get your booty.” You said, and you were immediately hearing protests as he tried to sit up. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that to be coming out of your mouth.
“You are not bringing a razor there.” He said as he attempted to wiggle free from your grasp. You decided to squeeze the base of his cock, making a small whimper escape him as his body went slack against the mattress.
“You said I could shave everywhere, Raf,” you comment, and he lets out a groan as you begin working your hand over his dick, collecting some of the pre cum that had gathered at the tip, “This is part of that.”
He looked at you like you were crazy from his angle as his leg dropped from your shoulder, “I thought you meant my legs or something, not my…” he said, not even being able to get the words out. You adored how the man never cursed around you; hell, you weren’t even sure if he cussed around anyone.
“Ass. Shaving your ass is what I meant.” You said, and he looked away, his face now a beat red. “Besides, how am I gonna shave your legs? You barely have any leg hair. All your hair grows on your head and in your pubic area.”
“Ya, and not my-ugh, you’re the worst. Bully. How dare you.” He said, and you laughed. In truth, he didn’t have a hair ass at all, but seeing his reactions were priceless.
“Let me shave it so I can eat it later.” You said, grabbing the razor and opening it back up.
“So you can what?!”
Sylus
When you mentioned wanting to do wax play with Sylus, he didn’t think you meant…like this. He had understood what you were planning only when it was too late. While he did keep everything trimmed and neat, he was never bald down there. Yet here you were, preparing to take all his hair off in one of the most painful ways he could imagine.
“Kitten, are you certain this is how you want to play tonight?” he asked as you got the wax nice and warm. You had gone so far as grabbing a nice wax pot on his dime and plugging it in with wax specifically for the pubic area.
“This is exactly how I want the night to go.” You said, grabbing some wax sticks and strips, “Now lay back down.” You said as you pushed down on his chest. He chuckled but went along with it. If this is what you want to do, then so be it. Not like he was going to shy away from something as simple as waxing.
He felt you placing some of the wax on him, then smoothing a strip over him, “If you had told me you preferred no hair, I would’ve shaved.” He commented as you placed your hand on the edge of the strip.
“It’s not that I have a preference for your pubic hair, Sy.” You said and then ripped the strip off. You heard him grunt from the sudden sting of having his hair literally ripped out, “I just had the urge to wax you one day, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” You confessed as your hand pressed down on the reddened skin to help with the sting. You then moved to grab a new wax stick and dipped it into the pot.
“Your mind is truly a…magical place, sweetie.” He chuckled as he felt the warm wax smoothing over him. This time, it didn’t hurt as much since he was mentally prepared for the kind of pain it would be. He couldn’t stop the hiss that escaped him or how his dick was getting hard and twitching. You noticed it right away as you grabbed another wax stick after throwing away the used strip.
“Didn’t expect you to get hard this fast.” You said as you smoothed more over him. You pressed his hardening dick out of the way so it wouldn’t bother you while you worked. “You’re such a masochist.” That got a laugh out of him.
“Pain and pleasure can often go hand in hand. How can I not get riled up when I have my lover between my legs?” he asked, and you flushed a bit as you ripped off more. This time, Sylus actually moaned, making sure you heard just how much he was enjoying this. It was something you had expected and were kind of hoping for.
“Maybe once we’re done, I can show you nothing but pleasure. Unless you cum just from this.” You tease him. Just those strips had almost gotten all of the main areas as you pushed his legs apart so you could get the edges.
“Oh, did you want to see how smooth of a ride it would be after?” The way he stated it had you choking on air before glaring up at him with flushed cheeks.
“Shut up…you know, just for that, imma wax your ass.” You said with a huff. The man didn’t seem disturbed as he raised his eyebrow.
“Did you want a better view for when you-“You cut him off with a slap along his inner thigh? He was fully amused as you leaned in and bit down on his thigh, watching as he flinched from the harsh treatment.
“I swear if there anything that gets you flustered…?” you knew it was possible, but you swore it was hard as all hell. The man didn’t really know shame when it came to you.
“Perhaps if you call me pretty,” he said sarcastically.
“Fine, pretty bird, once we finish up here, maybe I’ll take you for a ride then. Sound better?” you could see the actual blush on his cheeks. No way…is was that fucking easy.
#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace#Zayne Love and Deepspace#Xavier Love and Deepspace#Rafayel Love and Deepspace#Sylus Love and Deepspace#Lnds Sylus#x reader#reader insert#Sylus x reader#l&ds#l&ds Sylus#l&ds Sylus x reader#lads Sylus#lads Sylus x reader#Lnds#Lnds Rafayel#Lnds Zayne#Lnds Xavier#lnds x reader#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#l&ds rafayel#l&ds zayne#l&ds xavier#l&ds rafayel x reader#l&ds xavier x reader#l&ds zayne x reader#lads x reader
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summary: joel witnesses yet another fight between you and your dad, and frankly, he's tired of the way you've been talking to your old man. so he decides to teach you a lesson.
tags: pwp, dbf!joel, daddy kink, brat taming, spanking, age gap, p in v (unprotected yikes!), degradation, pet names, dirty talk galore!, creampie, head (f receiving), a short fight scene, family problems kind of, mean joel kind of.
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! the third and most anticipated one i think!! dbf joel wowza! 3.46k words of just pure smut >:) hope u likey! if u see any errors..no u dont.
“You’ve always gotta push every button, don’t you?” he snapped, his words flaring like sparks off dry wood. the kitchen boomed with both your voices. “Can’t you just do what’s best for once?”
You felt your pulse quicken, anger twisting up inside you like a coiled spring. “What’s best?” you spat back, incredulous. “You mean what you think is best, don’t you? God, Dad, you can’t keep treating me like I’m some clueless kid who needs his hand held!”
His face flushed a deep red, brows pulling tight together. “If you didn’t act like a kid, I wouldn’t have to! You wanna run off and live some big-shot life, fine. But don’t you dare act like I’m the one in the wrong for worryin’ about you.”
Before you could bite out a response, the sound of a chair creaking interrupted you. Joel shifted where he sat in the living room, the leather of the old armchair groaning under his weight. He hadn’t said a word since the argument began, just sat there with his arms crossed and a distant look on his face. Now, though, he glanced over, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before sliding back to your father.
“Maybe…” Joel’s voice was low, that drawl he had stretching the word out slow and easy. “Maybe you both wanna step back a bit. Cool down some.”
Your father exhaled, frustration radiating off him in waves, but he gave a terse nod, like he knew there wasn’t any use arguing anymore. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Probably for the best.”
He threw one last look your way—one full of hurt and something else, something that looked a lot like regret—before turning sharply and stalking out of the kitchen. The front door opened and then slammed shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the house.
You stood there for a moment, the silence thick and oppressive. Then, with a growl of frustration, you spun on your heel and stormed down the hallway to your room. The door banged shut with a sharp thud, and you collapsed onto the edge of your bed, breath coming in quick, angry bursts. You hated that he could still get under your skin like that, twist everything you said, and make you feel small, childish.
Minutes ticked by, your thoughts a jumbled mess of resentment and guilt, when you heard a soft knock on your door. It was barely more than a tap, but it sent a jolt through you. You sat up straighter, glaring at the door.
“Come in,” you said, voice flat.
The door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, the light from the hallway casting his shadow long across the floor. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
“He’s gone,” he said quietly, his accent thickening his words. “Gone off to cool his head, like he always does.”
You just huffed, crossing your arms. “Good. Let him stew all he wants.”
Joel’s gaze flickered, his expression as unreadable as ever. “You know, you sure got a smart mouth on you,” he drawled slowly, each word rolling off his tongue like honeyed molasses. “Always did. But there’s a fine line between standin’ up for yourself and bein’ plain disrespectful.”
You stared at him, taken aback. “Disrespectful?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “He’s the one who—”
“—who’s worried ’bout his little girl.” Joel’s voice was steady but firm, cutting through your protest. He took a step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “Look, darlin’, I know you’re frustrated. And I know he ain’t the easiest man to deal with. But the way you talked to him back there? That’s somethin’ you oughta be ashamed of.”
Heat flared up your neck, your pulse pounding. “I’m not ashamed. He never listens to me, Joel! No matter what I say, it’s like—”
“Don’t matter if he’s listenin’ or not,” Joel interrupted softly, shaking his head. “There’s a right way to talk to your folks, and that wasn’t it.”
You swallowed hard, struggling to hold his gaze. “So, what, you’re on his side now?”
Joel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his brow furrowed like he was tired of this whole conversation. “Ain’t nobody pickin’ sides here. But I’ll tell you this—you sounded like a brat, plain and simple.”
You sucked in a sharp breath, your heart lurching. “A brat?”
“Yeah,” he drawled, the word drawn out and almost lazy. He took another step closer, his gaze sharpening. “Actin’ like you know it all, like you’re too good to hear what he’s got to say. I get it—you’re grown, got your own ideas. But a little respect don’t hurt none.”
Something about the way he was looking at you—like he could see right through the front you were putting up—sent a strange thrill skittering down your spine. You shifted on the bed, your breath catching as he moved even closer, the distance between you shrinking to just a few feet.
“I don’t need a lecture from you,” you murmured, the words lacking their usual bite.
“Maybe not,” Joel agreed softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I reckon you need someone to remind you how to mind your manners.”
Your heart pounded hard against your ribs, the room suddenly feeling too small, too hot. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Joel’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Means you’re actin’ like a spoiled little girl who needs to be put in her place. Someone’s gotta teach you how to behave.” You swallowed, pulse racing as you held his gaze, the challenge hanging thick. “And you think you’re the one to do that?”
“Maybe,” he murmured, voice rough. “Guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” There was something dangerous in the way he said it—something that sent your heart and head into a frenzy. You knew you were treading into territory you shouldn’t, but the pull was quietly simmering beneath the surface.
It was hard to ignore how close he was now, standing just a few steps away, his broad frame taking up so much space in the room. You tried to look away to push down the tension that was building, but your body betrayed you. You wanted to deny it, the way your pulse quickened when he spoke to you like that. The way his presence—strong and steady—always made you feel something you weren’t sure how to handle.
“I don’t need you telling me how to behave, Joel,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual edge. His lips quirked up, his eyes dark as they held yours. “someone’s gotta.”
Joel was always calm, always collected, but there was something in his voice that you couldn’t shake off, and it only made the knot in your stomach tighten. He took another step toward you, and you could feel the air shift. “You’ve always had a way of pushin’ boundaries, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice tickling you, “but there’s a fine line between speakin’ your mind and actin’ out.”
You bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to push him away or let this go further. You’d always had a thing for him—Joel wasn’t just any man. He was the kind of guy who was steady when everything else wasn’t. Rugged, manly in a way that most men your age couldn’t pull off, and there was something about him that made you feel both safe and completely off-balance at the same time. It was a crush you’d tried to bury, but moments like this made it impossible to forget about it.
Your heart raced in your chest, a wild rhythm that matched the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. Joel had always been a figure of strength, a constant, rugged presence in your life. you’d always admired him from far, always found yourself drawn to him, even when you tried to deny it. That unspoken crush, the way your gaze lingered on him longer than it should, the way your stomach twisted when he called you "darlin’." It had been easy to brush off before to keep it hidden in the safe corners of your mind. But now, those feelings were too close, too raw, spilling over into the silence between.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak. Joel’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and before you could pull yourself together, he stepped closer. Close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him, his presence filling the space around you until it felt like you could barely breathe. his smell was suffocating, making your lungs burn.
“I think I know exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” he said, "You do too. And since your daddy didn't teach it to you, it seems like i need to take the brat out of you." His gaze didn’t waver, his words deliberate, each one sinking into your heart like they were meant to. Your breath got stuck as his words settled over you, thick and heavy like a weight you weren’t quite ready for. The air in the room wrapped around your throat like a chain.
His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. His presence seemed to swallow everything else—the fight with your dad, the anger simmering in your chest, the stubbornness you wore like armor. Now, it all felt fragile, like glass under pressure. And Joel, standing so close, felt like the force about to shatter it.
A shiver rippled down your back, and you felt disarmed. Your body betrayed you—heat rising in your cheeks, your heartbeat so fast and loud you were sure he could hear it too. You wanted to protest, to say something sharp and cutting, to remind him he wasn’t your father and didn’t get to tell you what to do. But the words got stuck.
There was something in the way he looked at you now—unflinching, steady, like he had all the time in the world to watch you break. You’d never felt so vulnerable, so completely exposed. And yet, beneath that vulnerability, a dangerous thrill settled through you, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was wrong, wasn’t it? To feel this way, to let his words, his presence, affect you like this.
But you did let it affect you.
Joel scanned your face as if he was waiting for something—for you to break, to push back, or to surrender. You felt exposed under his gaze
And God, the way he stood there—so solid, so sure of himself. You had never felt smaller, more out of control, and at the same time, more drawn to that feeling of submission. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss, knowing you shouldn’t jump but feeling the undeniable urge to fall anyway. fall into him.
"So here's how this is gonna go. While your dad is out to cool off 'm gonna teach you some manners, and when he comes back, you'll be good and ready to apologize." His calloused fingertips trace the side of your face. "How's that sound, angel baby?" You wanted to reply, to say something. this all felt like a dream, granted, a dream you didn't want to wake up from.
"Stayin' quiet now won't save your pretty ass, girl." Joel tuts, fingers slowly tangling themselves around your locks, pulling at them to make you look up. it made it hard to think straight. " I'm sorry.." And he chuckles at your words. "Now that's somethin'...so you can apologize." he said, almost mocking you. truthfully, him talking to you this way made all of your thoughts fuzzy, so you were basically on autopilot. the ends of your brows tie in a frown, unable to say anything more.
"Get up." Joel taps the side of your shoulder, his stern tone deafening the ring in your ears. "W-why?" You stammered. he rolls his eyes and tugs lightly on the blouse you had on. "Cause I'm 'bout to teach you a lesson. So you learn that being a brat has consequences. I ain't as soft as your dad."
Slowly, you shifted, pushing yourself off the bed, your legs shaky beneath you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood in front of him. As soon as you were upright, Joel’s hand released you, settling himself down on the edge of your bed, the place where you'd just been sitting, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The bed dipped under his weight, his broad shoulders taking up more space than they should, and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on him for a second longer than you intended.
"Bend over." You swallowed hard, eyes widening. "Excuse me?" You could believe what he just saidㅡ" Surely you were dreaming. It's like he crawled into the deepest space of your brain and digged in there to find the exact ways to make you fold. "C'mon, i ain't got all day. And your dad is probably coming back soon. So bend over." Joel said whilst patting his thick thighs, signaling you to settle on them. Every part of you was attuned to him—his voice, his movements, the way he looked at you - so you obey.
with shaky movements, you bend over his legs, your behind perked up and back arched. you feel his palm on the small of your back, spreading warmth through your body, before he fully moves it down to pull on the hem of your pants. "Can I take these off, sweetheart?" Your heart trembles, eyes closing as you mutter a soft 'yes'. Joel drags your pants down to your folded knees, along with your underwear, the sudden cold feeling enveloping your skin. "Look so pretty like this, baby." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your spine all the way to your lower back. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.
with no warning, he pulls his hand back and settles in with a hard smack on your sizzling skin. the harsh hit priks at your skin as it reddens, and you can't help but let out a soft yelp. "Count for daddy." and it takes you off guard, but you comply.
"o-one." joel hum, rubbing that spot before delivering another slap. "Two -" three slaps, then four, then five more, and you turn into a teary, weeping mess. how beautifully you splayed yourself onto the man's lap, each jolt of your body inviting him further in. for him, it was over in seconds, but for you, it felt like an eternity before you heard his voice again.
"Up. And bend over." in no time, you're bent over the edge of the bed, ass up and face flush with the mattress. the cold air hits your exposed cunt and your skin still hurts where he spanked you. He grips your hips, nails digging into your soft flesh, and you can feel his hardon resting between your legs. "This pussy is crying for me, huh?" he's cocky with the way he says it, two of his fingers gathering up the glistening liquid from your puffy lips, then bringing them to your mouth. "Be a doll." he's playing with you, but you? you do as you're told because he has you so drunk on him, in a way you've never felt before. you lick around his digits, tasting yourself and he delivers a proud slap to one of your asscheeks. "You pretty brat." back behind you, he crouches on one knee before drawing a long strip from your sensitive clit to your entrance with his tongue, the same two fingers you had licked, now slipping inside of you.
your back arches as a wave of pleasure breaks over your body like water on a shore. his licks are now concentrated on your bud, fingers quickening their pace as Joel hums at your sweet taste. You moan and writhe, that familiar warm feeling building up inside of you again. but as soon as you were there, he stopped, pulling back to see the shaky, wet mess you were. "P-lease, daddyㅡ"
he tuts, slapping your plush thighs. "You take what I give you. don't get greedy. You're lucky if I'm gonna let you come at all right now. this is supposed to be a lesson." the pain of that sick pleasure envelopes you and you sit with your cunt exposed as you hear Joel fumble the pockets of the pants he had already taken off. 'condoms' he mumbled, as if he knew what you were thinking.
"I'm clean.." You manage a whisper. "And on birth control." he sighs in relief. "Good." You can feel he is less tense now, his presence still behind you. with no warning, he flips you over, back on the bed and ass on the edge of it, that had your legs settle around his hips with ease. "Spread 'em." So you do. you spread your legs as much as you can, giving him a full view. Joel smiles, thumb back to rubbing circles onto your clit. "You're so beautiful." it was so sincere, so sweet you could almost taste it.
his gentle gaze soon got replaced by the hungry one he had all this night whilst staring you down. Finally, he aligns the tip of his shaft with your entrance and slowly pushes the tip in. Your breath got stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thornsㅡ Every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the mattress under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- theere we go.." Joel praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. He moves gently, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.
you wrap your legs around him loosely but he takes you by your ankles and almost folds them over your stomach, providing him a better position to pound straight into you, hitting that sweet spot on and on. his hips dive down, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it. Now you gotta apologize for being a little brat." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Joel.
"C'mon baby, say it, say what i wanna hearㅡ fuck." he hammered deep into you, the trinkets from your bedside table clinking soft melodies, as Joel held you by your hips. "I'm s-orry, daddy! I'm so sorryㅡ" you sob, trying your best to be coherent. "That's it, good girl, good fucking girl."
Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? fill you up with my babies? maybe then youll learn to behaveㅡ shit!" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, daddy, I'm sorryㅡ"
"Dirty fuckin' girl. Go ahead, 'f daddy." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much daddy!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. he pounds into you as you come down from your high, your body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slap your thigh, strong grips now onto your breasts as he comes ropes inside of you, then he pulls his length out of your pulsing walls, some come landing on your stomach.
and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulls out and watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm trickles of come dripping from your stomach to your chest due to your position. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths, as he scoots you better on the bed. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."
"I'm sorry for being a brat.."
" 's fine, baby. if you're too good i won't have any reason to punish you anymore. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
you wouldn't, indeed.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal characters#joel miller smut#pedro pascal smut#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#dbf!joel#pedro pascal x you
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Kinktober Day 8 - Threesome with Satoru Gojo & Ryomen Sukuna
contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv/a (unprotected), creampie, threesome, double penetration, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral (reader receiving/giving)
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 5.2k
a/n: next few days are gonna have to be short because i'm tired :')
You lay in bed, fixed on the ceiling, as your mind whirred through a million things. These past weeks had been intolerable: deadlines at work piling up, personal obligations weighing down on your shoulders, and stress overwhelming everything else.
And even with such deep exhaustion, you just couldn't have a simple nap. Your body was tense; muscles were tight from the constant pressure that was hoarding onto your being, yearning for some relief and peace.
You could hear footsteps down the hall, but you ignored it. Satoru and Sukuna were probably just enjoying their day off; you knew they'd likely end up arguing over something stupid anyway. You let out a light sigh and closed your eyes, desperate to will yourself to sleep.
Your bedroom door burst open and your two roommates charged into your room, the air in the room instantly thickening with electric tension. You groaned, throwing an arm over your eyes. "God- can't you guys give me just one minute of alone time?
"We've given you enough peace," Satoru said, his voice laced with playful mockery. His tall frame leant casually against the doorframe, gleaming blue eyes taking in the image of your exhausted self. "You've been cooped in here for hours. Thought we'd check on you.
"You look like shit," Sukuna said bluntly from behind him, his deep voice carrying that ever-present arrogance. He stepped into the room, completely unapologetic as his crimson gaze swept over you. His eyes lingered a moment longer than usual, something dark and possessive flashing in them. "You're overworked."
You peeked out from beneath your arm and sighed. "I'm fine. Just tired."
Satoru's lips now had a teasing grin on them as he walked over to the bed, sat down at the edge near your feet. "No, you're not fine. You're stressing yourself out, and it's kind of difficult to watch.
Before you could even respond, Sukuna closed the space between you both, towering over the opposite edge of the bed. You felt the mattress dip just a little under his weight while he sat down. His gaze posed no different from a predator's glare, staring down on its prey. "When's the last time you even relaxed?"
"I don't have the time-" you sighed frustratingly, rubbing your temples.
Satoru clicked his tongue in disapproval, looking at you with concern in his eyes. "That's where you're wrong.”.
You shot him an irritated glance, but the intensity of their combined focus made your heart race. Sukuna’s hand suddenly reached out, moving your arm away from your face and tracing circles along your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so harsh. “You need to stop pretending you’ve got everything under control.”
“I do,” you argued weakly, even though you knew they could see right through you. “I’m just—”
Sukuna cut you off with a low chuckle, his fingers curling around your wrist, firm but not forceful as he had you sit up beside him, “You’re exhausted. You need to let go.”
Satoru’s hand joined Sukuna’s, but instead sliding up your leg in a slow, deliberate motion. His touch was light, teasing, but it sent a spark of electricity through your skin. “Let us help you unwind.”
You felt your breath catch as they both closed in, their hands moving with an unspoken understanding. Sukuna’s fingers grazed your bare skin, his touch rougher but skilled as they pressed into your tight muscles, working at the tension in your arm and shoulder. The contrast between the two of them—Satoru’s playful teasing and Sukuna’s more intense approach—made your body react in ways you hadn’t anticipated.
“I don’t know if this is…” Your voice faltered, but even as you protested, your body was already responding. The tension in your shoulders started to melt away under Sukuna’s firm massage, while Satoru’s fingers traced lazy patterns up your leg, drawing out soft gasps from your lips.
Satoru’s smirk widened as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You don’t need to think right now, sweetheart. Just relax. Let us take care of you.”
Your heart raced in your chest, you sat there, torn between wanting to push them away and this undeniable need for someone to touch you-to forget it all for just a little while. Sukuna's hands were unyielding, touching firmly, knowing just where you wanted it, without asking. He leaned in closer to you, his lips barely caressing the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "You're too tense," he said huskily against your skin, the tone low and dangerous. “Relax.”
Satoru’s hand moved higher up your thigh, his touch maddeningly slow as he whispered against your other ear, “You’re safe with us. Just let us help you forget everything.”
Your mind was racing, but your body was quickly surrendering to the sensations. The stress that had weighed so heavily on you was slipping away, replaced by the heat of their combined attention. Sukuna’s hand slid up your back, fingers pressing into the sore muscles, and you couldn’t hold back the small moan that escaped your lips. The sound only seemed to encourage them.
Satoru chuckled softly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “That’s better. Stop pretending everything’s perfect, we’ve got you.”
Sukuna’s hand gently tugged your head back as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck. “Let us help our precious roommate.”
The two of them overwhelmed you, their touch pulling you deeper into a haze of pleasure and comfort. They worked in perfect sync, Satoru’s fingers sliding up to caress your inner thigh, while Sukuna’s lips finally pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck. His kisses were rough, possessive, while Satoru’s touch remained light and teasing, making your entire body tingle with anticipation.
You melted beneath their hands, all the stress and worries that had plagued you beginning to melt, replaced by their touch, their presence. They were grounding you, pulling you back from the edge of exhaustion and frustration, making sure that for tonight, you would forget everything but them.
Sukuna's hands moved with certainty, sliding under your arms as he shifted, pulling you up and against him. With minimal effort, he repositioned himself so that his broad back rested against the headboard, and you found yourself nestled between his strong legs. Your head lay against his firm chest, his heartbeat regular against your ear. The warmth of his body surrounded you, grounding you in a way.
He massaged your scalp with gentle motions that had your eyelids fluttering shut. A soft sigh escaped your lips as the tension in your shoulders dissipated completely as Sukuna's steady presence wrapped around you. "There you go," he murmured low, his voice reverberating through his chest. "Just like that. Let it all go.
Satoru was still seated at the edge of the bed, a devilish grin spreading across his face as you melted into Sukuna's arms. His fingers trailed up your legs, teasing the sensitive skin just below the knee before finally coming to rest on your thighs. He scooted closer, closing the space between the three of you, and leaned forward until his face was mere inches from yours.
“You’re looking better already,” he teased, one hand slipping up to trace along the waistband of your shorts, his fingers warm against your skin. His other hand found the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing gently across your lips. “Isn’t this much better than stressing about things that you can’t change?”
You blinked slowly, overwhelmed by the sensations—the firm hold of Sukuna’s arms around you, the way Satoru’s hands explored your body with an infuriating mix of tenderness and teasing. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body betraying how much you needed this, how desperately you wanted to forget everything except them.
Sukuna’s lips brushed against the crown of your head, his breath warm as he leaned down slightly to murmur in your ear, “You’re always so tense. Let us look after you for once.”
His hands moved from your scalp, trailing down the sides of your body, firm yet deliberate as they worked at the tight muscles. Every touch from him was purposeful, pushing you deeper into a relaxed haze. Each knot in your muscles unravelled beneath his skilled hands, and with every stroke, you felt yourself sinking further into his warmth, your body pliant against him.
Meanwhile, Satoru’s fingers brushed along your thighs, making their way with painfully slow movements; his eyes never once leaving yours as he watched intently for your response. He leaned his head to the side, the ever-present smirk on his lips as he leaned in closer-his warm breath fanning over your cheek until a soft whisper escaped him, "Tell me, sweetheart, what do you need right now?
Your lips parted, but words seemed impossible to form. All you could manage was to breathe out shakily as you felt the overwhelming presence of both of them. Sukuna's chest rumbled in a low growl of approval as he continued his methodical ministrations, his hands slipping lower, caressing your sides and stomach, while Satoru's lips brushed up dangerously close to your ear.
“Sshh, don’t worry,” Satoru murmured, his tone soft but edged with promise. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shorts, grazing the sensitive skin beneath. “We know.”
Sukuna shifted slightly behind you, pulling you closer against his chest, his legs bracketing yours, effectively trapping you between the two of them. His large hands slid beneath your shirt, splaying across your stomach as he bent down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Just feel,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding.
His hands moved with purpose, sliding further up your torso, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edges of your bra. The sensation sent your heart racing, your pulse pounding in your ears as the walls of resistance inside of you crumbled. Sukuna's lips continued their lazy, possessive way down your neck while Satoru's hand slipped further beneath your shorts, his fingers ghosting over your panties to tease but not quite give you what you needed.
Sukuna's lips curled into a smirk against your skin as he felt you shudder beneath his touch. His hands slid higher, palming your breasts through the delicate fabric of your bra, before lowering it slightly, thumbs circling around your nipples and coaxing them to hardness. "You're so responsive," he purred, voice low and rumbling through your body. "So eager for our touch.
Satoru's teasing fingers continued their exploration, slipping lower to outline your slit through the dampening fabric. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he teased, his lips brushing tantalisingly close to the corner of your mouth. "Too much to handle?
You bit your lip, a whimper escaping as Sukuna pinched your nipples roughly, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. His teeth grazed your earlobe. "Don't hold back," he said as his other hand slid downwards,, fingers also dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. "We want to hear you.”
His touch sent shivers rippling through your body, and the heat of his breath made your pulse quicken. You felt his control, the dark possessiveness in every move he made, while Satoru’s lips lingered dangerously close, teasing you with what you craved but never quite giving enough. The tension was electric, a heady mixture of pleasure and restraint. And your body responded-arching into their touch, begging for more. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and you were completely at their mercy.
Satoru's hand joined Sukuna's as they pushed your shorts and panties down your legs, baring you to their hungry gazes. “Fuck, look at you,” Satoru breathed, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your glistening folds. “So wet already.”
Sukuna’s fingers trailed through your slick heat, teasing your entrance before sliding higher to circle your clit. “Is this what you need?” he purred, his touch maddeningly light. “To be touched by us?”
You couldn’t suppress the moan that spilled from your lips as your hips bucked into their touch. Satoru’s fingers joined Sukuna’s, spreading your folds wide and exposing you fully to their ministrations. “That’s it,” Satoru encouraged, his thumb swirling around your clit while Sukuna’s fingers sank deep inside you. “Let us take care of you.”
The dual sensations were overwhelming—Sukuna’s thick fingers stretching you, curling inside you, while Satoru’s skilled thumb worked your clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body.
Sukuna’s fingers plunged deep into your tight heat, curling and scissoring, stretching you open. The wet squelch of his digits pumping in and out of your dripping cunt filled the air, obscene and erotic. He spat into his palm, slicking his fingers further, the sound making you shudder and clench around him.
“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tightly,” Sukuna groaned, his crimson eyes blazing with lust as he drank in the sight of you writhing on his fingers. “Such a greedy little pussy, desperate to be filled.”
Satoru captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as Sukuna’s fingers pistoned in and out of your dripping heat. His tongue delved into your mouth, tangling with yours and dominating you completely. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugging it gently between his teeth before soothing the sting with a swipe of his tongue.
Satoru settled between your thighs, his eyes dark with longing as he took in the vision of your glistening pussy. He dips his head down, revelling in your intoxicating scent. "You look so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his hot breath tickling sensitive flesh. "I can't wait to taste you."
Without any more hesitation, Satoru dove in, his tongue breaking between your slick folds and lapping at your essence. He growled low at the taste of you, his tongue diving deeper, searching for more of what he could get, greedily wanting everything. His hands locked onto your thighs, holding them open as he continued.
Every flick, every swirl, courses fire through you, threatening to consume your very being. It was as though the world had shrunk to just him and the sensations he was creating, the movements sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you.
Sukuna watches intently, his cock straining against his pants, aching to be buried inside you. "Fuck, look at him," he growls, palming himself through the fabric. "He can't get enough of your sweet cunt."
As Satoru's tongue continued its relentless assault, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh, you felt your mind begin to cloud with pleasure. The sensations were overwhelming; each stroke sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building you higher and higher. When he lapped at your clit, the flat of his tongue providing broad, delicious pressure, you found yourself gasping, seeing stars with every pass. Your hands instinctively tangle in his hair, urging him on, urging him to take you higher, to push you over that delicious edge.
With every bump of his nose against the sensitive bundle of nerves, you felt your resolve slipping. All thoughts of the outside world fading away; nothing but the heat, the pressure, the sweet tension that was building with each flick of his tongue. You’re lost in the moment, teetering on the brink of something profound, desperate for more, craving the release that feels tantalisingly close yet maddeningly out of reach.
Sukuna's hand joins Satoru's, gripping your thigh firmly to hold you steady as your legs tremble from the mounting pleasure. "That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice rough with desire, urging you to surrender. "Let him make you feel good. Let him bring you to the edge again."
Satoru intensified his efforts, his tongue plunging deep, fucking your entrance as his nose grinds against your clit. The sensation sends shockwaves through your body, and he can feel you tightening around him, your thighs trembling as he pushes you closer to another peak. He relishes the way your legs clamp around his head, holding him in place as you lose yourself in the pleasure.
With a renewed determination, Satoru flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, his movements relentless and precise. Each stroke sending jolts of ecstasy coursing through you, pulling you closer to that sweet release.
Sukuna watched with ravenous intent, his hand moving to palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your nipple between his fingers. "That's it, baby," he encourages, his voice low and husky, filled with lust. "Let him make you come." The vibrations of his words resonate through you, amplifying the pleasure building within.
Sukuna's eyes darkened with lust as he watched you come undone, writhing in ecstasy beneath Satoru's ministrations. He feels his own desire pulse, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, aching to be buried deep inside your heat.
With a final, hard suck on your clit, Satoru sent you spiralling over the edge once more. Your vision whites out, your back arching off the bed as the wave of ecstasy washes over you. Him, eagerly lapping up at your release, savouring every drop as his tongue took as much as he could get.
Sukuna moves you from his chest so he can kneel beside you. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he swallows cries of rapture. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours, tasting your arousal on his tongue.
As you're slowly coming down from your high, Satoru softens his touch to a gentle lapping with his tongue, savouring you with a satisfied hum. Pulling back, his face glistened with your arousal, as a triumphant grin spread across his lips at the sight of you.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you come," Sukuna growls against your lips, his hand sliding down your body, dipping between your thighs to feel your slick heat. "I could watch you fall apart like this for hours."
Satoru's fingers, slick with your juices, trail down to your asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle teasingly. He presses the tip of his thumb against the entrance, feeling it flutter and clench at the unfamiliar sensation. "Shh, relax," Satoru coos, his other hand stroking your inner thigh soothingly. "Let me in, baby. Let me make you feel good."
After waiting for a moment, he slowly, carefully, he slowly pushes his thumb in, feeling a slight tense in you.
Sukuna watched, his eyes dark with lust as Satoru began to prep you. He could feel his own arousal grow, his cock straining against his pants desperately now. "Look at you-you're gonna take us so well, aren't ya?" he purrs, his hand reaching down to free his cock.
Satoru's thumb slid in and out of your ass, stretching you gently. The new sensation had you gasping, your body arching into his touch. "Fuck-" he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. "Might be a bit of a stretch baby.”
Sukuna's eyes are consumed with hunger as he drinks in the sight of you, stretched and ready for them. His cock pulses in his hand, pre-cum seeping from the head as he strokes himself leisurely, working out tension. "Such a good girl, taking Satoru's thumb so well," he praises low and gravelly, rough with need. "I bet you can't wait to feel my cock splitting you open, can you?"
As Satoru added a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you further, your breath catches in your throat. "That's it, baby, relax for me," he coos sweetly, his free hand soothing along your inner thigh. "I know it's new, but you're doing so well." The dual sensations of Satoru's fingers probing you and Sukuna's heated gaze consuming you had you trembling, core clenching around nothing.The desperate need to be filled, to be completely claimed by them, pulsing through you.
To distract you, Sukuna sat up and guided your head downwards towards him, "Open up, baby," he commanded, his voice husky with lust. "Take me in your pretty mouth." Your lips parted obediently, as he slid his thick length past them, groaning at the sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him. The overwhelming taste of him sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but moan softly by the way you were pleasing him.
"Fuck, that's it," he growled, his hips rocking forward slightly, pushing more of his cock into your mouth. "Such a good girl, taking me so well." You moan around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure and feeding your own insatiable desire.
Meanwhile, Satoru continued to work your ass with his fingers, adding a third digit to stretch you further. "Mmm, look at you, so desperate for our cocks," he purrs, watching intently as you take Sukuna deeper. The heat pooling in your belly intensifies, and the sound of his voice filled you with a mixture of excitement and need.
Sukuna's grip tightens in your hair as he guides your head, establishing a steady rhythm as he fucks your mouth. "That's it, baby, take it all," he groans, his eyes rolling in pleasure as your tongue swirls around his thick length. "You look so fucking hot with your lips wrapped around my cock."
The sensation of being so full, both in mouth and ass, sends you spiralling into a fog of ecstasy, your mind racing with the overarching pleasure and that intoxicating sense of complete and utter helplessness.
Satoru's fingers worked relentlessly, twisting and scissoring, preparing you expertly for the stretch that would be Sukuna’s cock. "Fuck, I think she's definitely ready," he growled, his fingers finally sliding free from your tight hole.
Sukuna pulled his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, smearing his pre-cum across your cheek, marking you as his. He guided you back onto his lap, his thick cock pressing against your ass. Wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you close, his free hand grips his length, positioning himself at your prepared entrance.
"Ready for me, baby?" he asked, his voice dripping with desire. "Ready to feel me split you open?" The thought sent a thrill down your spine, as you nodded eagerly, heart racing in anticipation.
As Satoru settled between your thighs, his impressive length bobs against your stomach, heightening the tension. He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss just as Sukuna begins to push forward. The head of his cock breaches your tight ring of muscle, and a mix of pleasure and pain rushes through you as you can’t help but to gasp again.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Sukuna groans, his hips pressing forward steadily, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You can hardly breathe, your body feeling deliciously stretched as he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, leaving you reeling, caught between the pleasure of being claimed and the slight ache of fullness.
Satoru breaks the kiss, his dark eyes filled with lust as he takes in the sight of you impaled on Sukuna's thick cock. He strokes your cheek tenderly, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. "You okay, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and concerned. "Tell us if it's too much." You appreciate his concern, but you can only manage a breathless nod, yearning for more.
Sukuna held you close, his chest pressed against your back, arms wrapped securely around your waist. He nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath dancing across your skin. "Just breathe, baby," he coaxes, keeping his hips still for now, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. "Fuck, you fit so nicely around me. So perfect." His body heat pressed against yours is intoxicating-a stark reminder of what the two of you share.
After a moment, Sukuna started to move, his hips rocking in shallow thrusts as he worked you open and got you used to the feel of him inside you. "That's it, good girl" he murmured, hands gripping your hips possessively. "Take my cock. Take it all." The pleasure built with each thrust, a delicious stretching sensation that has your heart racing.
Sukuna’s steady rhythm continued, his thick cock stretching you delightfully as he filled you again and again. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you back onto him, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Meanwhile, Satoru positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your slick folds. "Ready for me, baby?" he asks, his voice husky with desire. "To take both of us?" Your heart raced at the thought, and you nodded vigorously, yearning for the fullness.
With your confirmation, Satoru pushed forward, his length sliding into your heat along with Sukuna’s measured thrusts. "Oh fuck," he gasps, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he joins the rhythm. "You feel incredible." The dual penetration is overwhelming, stretching you to your limits, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that sends your mind spinning.
As they began to move together, their hips rocking in sync, you could feel the intensity building. "Fuck, baby, you're taking us so well," Sukuna growls, his fingers digging deeper into your hips. "Such a good girl, letting us fill you up like this." Your body responds eagerly to their words, the pleasure coursing through you in waves.
Satoru leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all his longing into the moment. "We want you to take care of yourself, baby," he murmurs against your mouth, concern lacing his tone. "Don't let work consume you. You're too important to us." You feel the weight of his words, knowing how much they care for you, and it infuses you with warmth.
Sukuna nods, hands roaming over your body, caressing your curves as he continues to thrust into you. "That's right, baby, you need to put yourself first." Their dual focus on your pleasure and well-being wrap around you like a blanket, encouraging yourself to let go completely.
Sukuna's and Satoru's hips began to pound deeper into you; the rhythm urgent, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The dual penetration was an overwhelming sensation-the stretch bordering on painful yet edged with undeniable pleasure that had you gasping for more. You felt your orgasm rise, a tight coil of desire building within you as they pushed you closer to the edge.
“Fuck, I can feel you tightening up," Sukuna groaned, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him. "You gonna come for us, baby? Gonna let us feel you come undone?" The need in his voice fired up something in the pit of your stomach.
“Gonna come," you gasp out strained with pleasure. "Don't stop, please- don't stop-" Your heart was racing, desperation fueling the need as Sukuna and Satoru redoubled their efforts, hips pounding into you with ruthless abandon. You felt Sukuna’s fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive nub, while Satoru captured your lips in another searing kiss.
The combined stimulation was too much, and you came undone, crying aloud as their names both spilled from your lips. Your body convulsed as waves of bliss washed over you. Your pussy clamped down around their cocks, and a whine escaped your lips as you gushed around Satoru’s cock, the sensation overwhelming.
Sukuna and Satoru continued their merciless rhythm, their thrusts becoming erratic as they neared their own release. “Fuck, she’s milking our cocks,” Sukuna groans, fingers digging into your hips. “Gonna fill her up so good.”
Satoru leans in towards Sukuna, stealing a passionate kiss from him, their desire palpable in the air. “She’s perfect,” he murmurs against Sukuna’s mouth, his eyes dark with lust. “Takes us so well. Like she was made for this.”
The intensity of their connection sent shivers down your spine as they kiss again, their tongues tangling in a dance of raw hunger while they fuck you in tandem. “Gonna mark her inside and out,” Sukuna growls, breaking the kiss, determination etched on his features. “Make sure she knows she’s ours.”
They moved at a brutal pace, their hips slamming into you with brute force, skin slapping against skin, as they claimed you. Satoru held tightly onto your hips, bruising you, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh at every thrust. Sukuna bit down on your shoulder, teeth sinking deep into soft, supple skin, marking you for himself.
Overwhelmed with sensation, you felt your mind spiral into overstimulation. Incoherent babbles spill from your lips: a jumbled mess of moans, pleas, and garbled encouragement. You thrash your head from side to side, lost in the pleasure radiating from your core, your body no longer your own.
The two didn't relent, their thrusts becoming more erratic as they approached their peaks, focused solely on their pleasure, determined to fill you with their release. You’re aware of the urgency in their movements, and a thrill runs through you, knowing you’re the source of their desire.
With a final, powerful thrust, Sukuna and Satoru bury themselves deep inside you, their cocks pulsing as they release their hot load. Sukuna’s lips curl into a snarl, his teeth still embedded in your shoulder as he empties himself within you. “Fuck, yes!” he roars, hips jerking as he fills you with his thick cum.
Satoru threw his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he followed suit, his cock twitching as he pumped you full of his own release. “God, you’re perfect,” he gasps, grinding against you, ensuring every last drop stayed inside. The sensation of their warmth filling you was intoxicating, your body trembling as you felt it seeping around where their cocks were still connected to you.
They remain buried deep inside you, bodies pressed against yours as they catch their breath, savouring the aftermath of their combined pleasure. Sukuna’s teeth finally release your shoulder, leaving a mark—a symbol of his claim on you. You bask in the warmth of their presence, a blissful afterglow enveloping you as you lie there, feeling cherished and completely consumed by their desire.
“Fuck, that was incredible,” Satoru pants, resting his forehead against yours as your breathing slowly returns to normal.
The two men withdraw from you, their cocks glistening with your combined arousal. They help you stand, their arms steadying you as your legs wobble beneath you.
“Let’s clean up,” Satoru suggests, his eyes sparkling with lingering desire. “Then we can cuddle, yeah?”
Sukuna scoops you up into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest as he carries you toward the shower. “You did so well, baby,” he praises, his tone low and soothing. “You took us perfectly.”
Satoru walks beside you both, his gaze filled with warmth. “We want you to relax and let us take care of you. You deserve it,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. “And we mean it when we say we won’t let you overwork yourself anymore.”
You nod, your body still humming from the intense encounter. Sukuna’s and Satoru’s possessive claims, their marks on you, only deepen the bond you share, leaving you feeling cherished and desired.
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safe
words: 1.1k
warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe
“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.
“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.
“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”
“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”
“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”
“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.
“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”
“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”
“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”
“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.
“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”
you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.
“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.
“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.
he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.
“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”
you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.
“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.
“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.
“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”
“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”
“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.
“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”
“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”
“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.
“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.
“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”
“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.
“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.
“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”
“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.
“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.
“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”
you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.
“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”
you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.
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BLACKOUT! - OIKAWA TOORU
summary, both you and tooru woke up in the middle of the night due to a blackout
"GYAH!"
he squealed when he heard the sound of something falling on the floor. you clutched onto the back of his white t shirt. your heart rate increased as both of you and your husband walked further into the dark living room.
"walk faster, tooru!"
you groaned and smacked the back of his shoulder, making him grunt out an 'ow!' he pouts at you but you can't really see it due to how dark the apartment is at the moment.
"i'm trying! i can't see anything!"
he huffs out, stupid him he forgot his phone back in the bedroom. it was probably charging before this stupid black out happened. even if he did had his phone, it wouldn't be much help since the battery is dead.
a little while before...
when he moved to argentina for life, he knew he had to face a lot of things. mostly heat. though, he doesn't really mind a little bit of heat and sun exposure. he likes it, in fact. he likes how he looks hotter with tanned skin (self proclaimed).
but he didn't expect it to be this hot.
before he drifted to slumberland, his arms were wrapped around you, with your head on his chest. the proximity between you two was insane, but you both love it. he could've sworn he turned the AC on.
guess he was wrong when he woke up at exactly 3:45 AM with sweat forming on his forehead and all over his body at an insane amount. he furrows his eyebrows at the sudden heat, especially at night time. he fans himself with his white shirt that he practically wants to pry off right now.
he looks over to you to see you squirming in your sleep, changing sides every now and then. he could see that you were uncomfortable as well.
then, he figured that it was a blackout. he had that idea when he looked up to see the fan wasn't moving an inch as it should be. the AC had been turned off and the hallway lights that both of you usually leave on at night, is turned off.
he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. what a terrible time to be having a blackout.
soon, you woke up as well and sat up next to him. a yawn escapes your lips, as you bring a hand to rub your eye. he smiles at you. even in the dark, he manages to see your beautiful figure.
"morning, beautiful"
he said in a light tone, obviously teasing you. you hummed, your hair is a little messy.
"hm, why is it so hot?"
you asked and faced him. you can barely make out his face due to how dark it is. the only source of light you have is from the moonlight that shone through your balcony. though it was minimal.
"because of me possibly"
he jokes, to lighten up the mood. you rolled your eyes and smacked his bicep, making him chuckle.
"i'm being serious here, tooru"
he huffs and feigns offense.
"fine, i'm pretty sure it's a blackout. the power is out"
you hummed to his statement, fanning yourself with your hand.
"can't really sleep now with the temperature. what do we do?"
you asked to which he smirked.
"we could make out-"
"absolutely not"
you scoffed and he pouts, though it wasn't a bad idea, you don't think him bruising your lips with his own is appropriate to do in these moments.
"ugh, it's so hot. i wanna rip off my clothes right now"
"doesn't seem like a bad idea, you should try"
you don't need light to see that stupid flirty smirk and wink of his. you rolled your eyes at him.
"we're in a crisis and all you can think about is getting laid?"
he yawns as he nodded his head and leans against the bedframe.
"well, you're to blame for my thoughts"
you shook your head and before you can say anything to him, the sound of glass hitting the floor echoed throughout the apartment, making both your eyes widen.
he swears his heart rate increased and beated in an insane pace. his face starts to lose a little colour. oh god, he hates these kind of scary things.
the second that sound broke out, he clutches onto you for dear life. his arms wrapped tightly around your body as your cheeks squished against his chest.
"mmf- tooru! it's hot!"
"i can't let go! i'm scared!"
he squeaks and you huffed.
"it's probably nothing, calm down"
"oh yeah? i don't think 'nothing' can push off something until it breaks, darling"
you glared at him. seriously, it was amusing to see this buff and confident man getting all scared at what may possibly be something scary.
you were a little scared too, you weren't gonna lie.
"we should check it out"
"WHAT? are you insane!?"
you nodded to which he just whined at you. you pry off his hands off your body to get up from the bed, quickly searching for your phone.
"wait! you're not being serious, are you?"
he pouts when he sees you stood up next to the bed. you sighed when you couldn't find your phone.
"i am! i have to see what broke"
"and leave me here? alone!?"
he squeals when you scoffed at him and walk towards the door. he yelped and quickly escaped the bed to join you, his hand clutched on your arm.
"(y/n), baby, honey, as much as i love how crazy you can get and how hot you are when you do so, i don't think this is the right idea"
you huffed and grabbed his hand with your own.
"cmon, we'll go together, okay?"
"i'm too young to die! i wanna experience having kids, sending them off to college and beating that asshole ushiwaka-"
he rambles, as if he was going to die. you sighed. even at a time like this, he can be as dramatic as can be.
"it's nothing, i'm sure of that. i just need to see what broke and we'll get back in bed"
he pouts and gives up on changing your mind. as much as he wants nothing to do with this, he can't leave you alone. hell, he doesn't wanna be left alone.
which got you two in this position in the first place.
you clutched the back of his shirt, as both of you walked further into the living room.
"OW! i stepped on something sharp!"
he whined as he takes a step back to see the broken pieces. you sighed when you see the pieces of your favourite vase that your mother gifted.
"aww, i really love this one"
he hums and pats your back.
"at least we know what broke now. so, let's go back to bed, shall we?"
he says before grabbing your arm and leading you to the bedroom. before you could protest, a certain sound made you both freeze.
both of you let out a scream when something fuzzy ran through your legs. one of the screams being at the higher pitch, obviously tooru's.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"
he yelped and hugged you tight.
"i don't know!"
then a small 'meow' echoed.
and right then, the hallway lights turned on and so did the fan and the AC. a small cat made it's way to your leg, purring as it rubs its head against your calf.
he blanked out as he sees you patting the cat. how did that get here?
"aw, turns out it was this guy"
"what the- how did it get here?"
he pouted when he sees you paid attention to the purring feline. he clears his throat loudly, to get your attention.
"probably went inside when i was closing the door and hid off somewhere. it's so cute though"
he scoffs.
"yeah well, i'm cuter anyways. cmon! let's get back to bed!"
he whined and tugs on your nightdress. you rolled your eyes at him before taking the cat outside.
"you owe me consoling kisses by the way for making me go through such a horrendous experience"
you snickered before pressing a soft kiss on his lips, making him smile.
"okay, you big baby"
#haikyuu x you#hq x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq x y/n#hq x you#oikawa tooru x reader#hq oikawa#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#oikawa x y/n#oikawa x you#oikawa fluff#oikawa tooru x you#oikawa tooru x y/n#tooru oikawa x reader
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3. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: The aftermath of that fateful night has lots of consequences. Not all of them are bad.
A/N: This is the final part! Based on this and this.
Word Count: 11.7k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of divorce
The Unicorn Masterlist
You had to admit. The ensuite bathroom was really nice. But you couldn’t imagine enjoying the soaker tub with jets and soft fluffy towels as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You took off your little pearl choker as tears continued to fall down your cheeks and you removed your sweater and skirt. It all felt so pointless. You had wasted so much time fretting over your outfit and matching it to your pearl choker and your pretty panties all for everything to just blow up completely. Now your favorite pink pearl choker was tainted and you’d probably never want to wear it again.
You should have said no to the proposition. You knew you should have listened to your gut. It was going to blow up and someone was going to get hurt.
Your night shorts and matching top were soft on your skin but you hated it because you’d also chosen this set with the thought that both Kit and Harry might see it. But you’d be sure they never did.
Setting your alarm for 5:00 am you climbed into the luxurious bed and rolled to your side hoping you could get some sleep so you could turn your brain off as you replayed every moment in your head over and over again.
. . .
“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Harry,” Kit insisted.
“She can’t hear us in here, love. Come on. Let’s work something out. Things didn’t go like we thought… right? We don’t need to do it again.”
“I just… I need some space, H. That was a lot. I guess I didn’t expect it to feel that way. I can’t talk about it right now, though. I need to sleep on it. Away from you. I know I’ll feel better in the morning.”
Harry nodded and grabbed his wife’s hand, “I love you, Kitty. You know that right? I love you so much. You are the most important person to me in the world.”
Kit attempted a weak smile as she pulled her hand away and tucked herself into the blankets, “Can you turn the light off when you leave the room?”
. . .
Harry had been unable to sleep at all. The couch wasn’t a great spot to sleep but more than that, he was feeling guilty and trying to figure out how to fix the problem. He didn’t want you to feel bad, you hadn’t done anything wrong. But he did need to support his wife first and foremost. He’d need to insist she apologize and put it behind her but he didn’t want his wife to feel like he was taking your side either. Even though, in a way, he kind of was. You were the innocent party in all this. He’d gotten carried away. You both just clicked. The chemistry between you was impenetrable. So much so that he nearly forgot about his wife being there and said some things he didn’t really mean.
When he heard light footfalls coming down the stairs and then saw the outline of your frame as you rushed toward the door he shot up from the couch and hurried toward you, “Y/n?”
You closed your eyes and stopped in your tracks. You hoped he was asleep and that you could leave without him knowing.
He put his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind you and spoke quietly, “Are you okay to drive?” He knew he wasn’t going to be able to talk you into staying. Though in his mind, the best-case scenario was that the three of you could sit and talk and move on from the disaster of what had happened the night before. Maybe over coffee and waffles. He knew that was unlikely but he had hoped.
“I’m fine now. I just want to get out of here. I feel awful,” you turned yourself to look up at him in the dark.
“You don’t need to feel bad, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I need you to understand that.”
“I just need to go. You’ve been so nice to me. Thank you, Harry. For everything. Tell Kit how awful I feel and that I’m so sorry and never meant to hurt her.”
Harry frowned, “Don’t worry. Kit will feel better when she wakes up. I’ll talk to her. But you don’t owe anyone an apology.”
He put his arms around you and held you against his chest in a sweet hug. You could feel the thud of his heart under his pecs and inhaled his scent. You’d miss him. You’d miss Kit too. You’d especially miss William and Warner.
. . .
When you didn’t show up on Monday morning at the Styles’ house both Kit and Harry knew what was going on.
Kit had planned on apologizing to you for her behavior in person. She’d even planned to go to work a bit late that morning so all three of you could try and work it out. She was still feeling a bit betrayed by Harry and having a hard time unseeing and hearing what she had, but she knew her conduct had been out of line. She was acting on pure emotion and the wine exasperated her reaction. But that was no excuse.
“I can work from home today,” Harry said.
Kit shook her head, “I feel awful. I hurt her feelings. I was such a bitch to her and she didn’t deserve it. Maybe I should text her. Or go to her apartment and apologize to her face-to-face? What do you think? The least I can do is apologize for how I treated her.”
Harry pursed his lips, “Let me text her. See if she’ll come over later when you get home. I’ll tell her we’d like to talk and that you want to apologize.”
Sighing, Kit closed her eyes, “Don’t text her. I will. This is something I need to fix.”
He decided he’d let his wife figure out how she needed to approach the issue but he was worried it was too late. He was worried he’d never see you again and that would be it. You were totally justified in ghosting them both. Plus the semester would be starting up again for you in a couple of weeks and the boys would be back in school during the day so it felt futile to beg for you to come back.
And that’s exactly what you thought too. You were about to head into the new fall semester to start on your master’s degree and the boys were going back to school. You had hoped you’d still be able to watch the twins when Harry and Kit wanted a weekend away or a night off for a few extra bucks during the school year but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to face either Kit or Harry again.
You were sure Kit hated you with every fiber of her being. Which kind of made you angry the more you sat with what had happened. As sad as you were and as bad as you felt, you knew Harry was right. Nothing that happened was actually your fault.
Distracting yourself from what had happened Saturday night had been difficult because it was all so fresh. You knew with some time you’d get over it and move on but you were sure there would be some damage there. Netflix, long walks, lots of sleep, and pints of ice cream seemed to help a little.
But still, the moment that you couldn’t erase from your memory was when you were on their bed as Harry had just finished himself on your back and Kit yelled at him to make you leave all while you were still naked and floaty. Humiliating. But more than that, you started to realize, that what Kit did was uncalled for and mean. She had been mean to you and that made you angry.
So you were surprised when you saw a text from her on Monday afternoon. With an apology.
I hope you’re doing okay. I just wanted to reach out and tell you how sorry I am for how I acted Saturday night. I had hoped to talk to you this morning about it so I could do this in person, and I would still like to apologize to you in person if you’d let me. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it but if you are, I’ll be at Davanti’s on Fresno Street at 3:30 pm. I’ll be alone and plan to stay for an hour.
It was 2 pm. You needed to decide if you wanted to hear her out or just move on. Could you look at her again? Would you simply break down and cry the moment you saw her? Maybe it would be better if you requested Harry to be there? Or perhaps you should just ignore her and be done with it.
But you figured opting for closure would be better in the end. For you and probably for Kit as well.
I’ll be there.
You found a spot to park on the street a few blocks away so you could get some fresh air and stretch your legs before going inside. And also just in case you suddenly decided you didn’t want to go through with it, you could turn around and leave without having Kit seeing you.
But you didn’t change your mind and when you walked into the restaurant you saw Kit sitting at a booth looking down at her phone with a glass of wine in front of her.
You slid in across from her and she startled slightly before placing her phone face down, “Y/n! You came. Thank you.” She smiled. She looked hopeful and sweet.
Nodding you smiled back, “Of course.”
Kit looked at your hands and then out into the restaurant before back to you, “Would you like anything to drink or eat? It’s on me if you want–“
“No. That’s fine. I’ll just have a water when the server comes by. Not really hungry.”
She sat for a moment and blinked her eyes as she looked at you softly, “I am so sorry, Y/n. I know me just saying that can’t erase what I did. I wasn’t prepared to see him like that with anyone and I took it out on you. I’ll never forgive myself for the way I acted.”
You nodded and looked down at the table. You figured she would eventually forgive herself. Because that’s why she was there wanting to apologize to you in person. She wanted to feel better about what had happened and this was her way of doing that. So, while she would forgive herself eventually, despite saying she wouldn’t, you would never forget what happened to you that night. How she treated you, demeaned you. How it made you feel disgusted with yourself and Harry and her all at once. The horror you felt when the worst possible outcome happened.
“Can you ever forgive me?” She finally said which made you look up at her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’m not really sure how I even feel right now about it. I still need time to negotiate all of this in my head first.”
Kit spread her fingers out on the table and looked down at her hand, “I understand that. I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” she sighed and looked back at you, “I wanted to try something new with Harry. I’ve been so… just trying to figure out how to make myself feel that thing I used to feel for him, ya know?” She laughed and shook her head, “He’s just so… male. I mean he’s sweet and gentle and attractive but in bed, he wants something I can’t give him, and vice versa. And now that the twins are older we get more privacy and can get back into being a little more explorative, and it’s made me really miss how things were when I was single and dating women. I know that sounds awful,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “But I’ve just been reaching for something that I’m never going to be able to have with Harry alone. But turns out,” she laughed, “funnily enough, that I don’t like him with anyone else or feeling that passion with someone else that I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel that with you. But that’s selfish of me. I’m all messed up right now,” she stitched her brows together and you could see how glassy her eyes were, “I’m sorry to dump that on you. That’s not fair to you.”
You nodded. You didn’t know what to say in response. She shouldn’t have told you any of that. That was true. And now you just felt bad for Harry that his wife was seeking something to fill in where she thought he lacked. But all you could think was that he was everything anyone would ever want and yet Kit didn’t even see that somehow.
“I wanted to also give you this. From the boys.” She handed you a small homemade booklet with drawings on it from both William and Warren. You flipped through the pages of marker and pen, drawings and stories written to go with each drawing.
You looked up at Kit with appreciation, “Thank you for this. Tell them I love it. I’ll read it every day.” You hadn’t wanted to cry. Hadn’t wanted to show Kit how sensitive and soft you were. She’d already watched you cry that night and now here you were with tears in your eyes again that you simply could not hold back.
“If you ever want to stop by and say hi to them you could. Or even just send me or Harry a text to tell them hi. They love you so much, Y/n. You’re so good with them. And I wanted to…” she paused as she looked at you with a sudden weight that hadn’t been there just before, “If anything ever, um…” she wavered her gaze from your face to the area behind your head and back, “Never mind. Just know how much both Harry and I trust you and would love for you to still come around to see them if you ever wanted.”
. . .
When you returned to university things started to feel better. You still got caught with feelings of dread and were reminded of the way you felt that night. Of course, Kit had apologized and that was really all you could ask for after it had all been said and done. But it didn’t stop you from zoning out in the shower with thoughts of putting your pink pearl choker on before you went to their home that night. The giddiness you felt beforehand that was torn away from you so viciously only hours later. Now you couldn’t even look at the necklace. It was tucked away in its soft velvet bag in your panties drawer.
And you couldn’t stop thinking of Harry either. You missed him a lot too. But that feeling was mixed with a confusing heartsickness. It wasn’t that you were in love with him or anything. But you had crushed on him for a while and got to experience him in bed and that was. You couldn’t describe it because you tried not to think about it too much. The more you dwelled on the way he handled you and looked at you, the way he spoke to you… it gave you shivers and the unfortunate thing was that you’d never have the pleasure to know that again.
But again, you weren’t in love or anything close to it. It was just a sense of loss more than anything.
After your first month back at school was down you were invited out to a local bar with some of your classmates and friends. Something fun for everyone to let loose a little. And god did you deserve to blow off a little steam.
You would have preferred a club with some awful dancing and too much liquor, to be honest, but darts in a dark bar with pitchers of beer and friends sounded quite nice too.
Jax bought the first pitcher as the rest of you claimed a nice table close to the dart boards at the back of the bar. It was a Friday night so the place got packed not long after you’d arrived.
You lost badly at the first game which meant the next pitcher of beer was on you. You frowned exaggeratedly at the rule that the loser buys the beer, but the truth was that you were feeling amazing. It was nice to not be sitting at home thinking about things that you shouldn’t be. The distraction was welcome. Being out with friends was refreshing.
Waving at the bartender you placed the empty pitcher down and dug into your front pocket for some cash to pay your turn. But a sudden feeling came over you. Like you were being watched. Or noticed at least. You casually looked to your right and then to your left but you saw no one looking at you. And no one looked familiar.
“Another pitcher of beer?” The bartender asked, bringing your attention back to him.
“Oh! Yes, please.”
With that strange feeling crawling its way up your spine you turned slowly and looked back at your friends and then across the bar to the table next to the window.
You jolted and felt your scalp prick and fingertips sizzle when you made eye contact with him. Harry. He was seated at a high-top table. He appeared to be alone.
He lifted a hand in greeting before bringing it back down to grasp his pint and looked out the window.
You hadn’t even become unfrozen from the shock of seeing him by the time the bartender was back with your pitcher. You settled up with him and looked to where Harry was seated. He didn’t look back at you. You wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen you before you walked up to the bar?
“Hey, here’s the pitcher,” you placed it at the center of the table. “I’m gonna sit this game out. Someone I know is here and I’m gonna go say hi.”
After refilling your glass you hesitantly made your way to Harry. The least you could do was say hi. You had wondered about him all this time and had been tempted to text him a time or two but never felt it was right.
“Hi.” You stood next to his table, at a safe distance in case he wasn’t interested in talking.
He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was looking at outside to you, “Hi, Y/n.”
“I was, uh, surprised to see you. I don’t want to bother you. I just–“
“Sit if you want,” he gestured at the other stool. So obviously you did, placing your glass on the table and keeping your eyes on him.
Harry took a sip of his beer and his eyes were as deep and full of warmth as ever.
“How have you been?” You asked. You didn’t really know what to say to him. Which was silly when you thought about it.
“Things are complicated at home. But I’m okay. How are you?”
You shrugged as you took a drink from your glass, “Good. School’s been good. Here for a night without worrying about homework and quizzes. Just needed a night out with some friends.”
He nodded and leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the lacquered wooden tabletop, caging in his beer, “I’ve wanted to text you to see how you were doing but figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me again after what happened.”
You pinched your brows together and shook your head, “That’s not… I wish you would have. I wanted to text you a few times too. Just to check-in. I’ve missed you guys.”
“The boys really miss you. They talk about you still. I mean…” he rotated his arm so his palm was face up in a passive gesture, “it hasn’t been that long since– well, anyway.”
You smiled, “I miss them a lot. Hey, did Warner ever finish learning that song on the piano you were teaching him? He was doing so well learning the parts. I kind of hoped to hear him complete it but then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence.
Harry grinned. It was the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since you approached him.
“Yeah. He’s pretty much got it down now. I’m really proud of him. He’s gonna be starting guitar and singing lessons soon. He wants to learn so he can start a band with some friends so I encouraged him to take lessons.”
“Takes after his father. Musically talented.” You gleamed at Harry.
Harry gulped the lump down his throat. He had really missed you around. But he’d been quite caught up in the aftermath of that night with Kit ever since. That night had changed everything.
“Ahh, I just dabble. Warner has real natural talent.”
You couldn’t be sure but you thought the apples of his cheeks were turning a shade pinker than they had been.
“I’ve heard you play the piano and sing. I’d say you have plenty of natural talent, Harry.”
You meant it too. He had a beautiful voice full of dark timbre and vibrant airy notes. And of course, he was so confident when he sang that if he had told you he made an album and played for audiences in sold-out venues you would have believed it.
“That’s nice to hear. Thank you, Y/n,” you watched a dimple slowly work its way deeper into his cheek as his smile widened. It was nice to see him smile.
You both sat quietly for a bit looking out the window at the dark street as cars drove by, headlamps beaming over the dark asphalt. You wondered if you should press him more about how he really was. You could tell something was off. He wasn’t as happy as he normally was. And when he told you things were complicated at home you figured it had something to do with Kit.
“We’re getting divorced,” he said defeatedly as he stared out the window.
“What? Why?”
Harry took a deep breath and looked at you, “She wants more than I can give her. She needs to be with women, she said. And…” he gulped and looked back out the window, “… she said she couldn’t ever look at me the same after that night. Said I’d never be able to have that with her.”
You kept your brows pinched together as you listened to him. It broke your heart that things had fallen apart for them. That it had all been too much.
“But I thought you two were happy. There was never any indication before that something was wrong.”
He nodded, “I thought so too. But she couldn’t get passed it and she said she’d been thinking about it for a long time. Before we even thought of having you join,” he glanced at you before looking down at his glass, “She’s been needing something else for a while. I never knew. I thought it was enough. I knew she missed women and that kind of softness in bed but I had no idea that it affected her so much. To me, her confession was sudden. But supposedly she’s been keeping it in for a long time.”
Without even thinking you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”
Harry looked down at your small hand covering his and up to your eyes, “She said that when she apologized to you she felt free to finally be herself. I was blindsided. Then last week she told me she was going to go on a date with a woman she’s known for years. Ripped me right half. She was gone all night. But I mean, our marriage is over anyway.”
You gently smoothed your thumb over his knuckles and kept your eyes on his face.
“So I offered her a divorce and told her I can’t tolerate her dating someone if I’m not involved somehow. She understood that. She told me she hoped I would find someone,” he paused as he sighed to collect his words so they didn’t come out as a surprise to you, “…with whom I could have the kind of chemistry she saw that night between us.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Or if you should. You were well aware of the way you and Harry connected and how natural everything felt with him. But at the same time, you never thought it was much more than just good chemistry. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of it as more than that.
“Anyway, she’s at home with the boys and I needed to get out and breathe. Figured I’d have a beer or two and then go back home. Sleep in the guest room like I have been. We’re still trying to figure out how to tell the kids.”
You nodded softly, “That’s awful, Harry. I don’t know what to say except I’m so sorry.”
Harry breathed out a laugh through his nostrils and shook his head, “You don’t need to pity me. I’m sad but I’ll be okay. It’s better anyway, I think in the end. She wasn’t fulfilled and part of me knows I wasn’t either. We could have made it work but I don’t think she’d have been happy for much longer. It was only a matter of time I suppose.”
“Y/n! Next game’s about to start. You wanna join?” Arla suddenly interrupted.
You turned to look at her and back to Harry, “This is Harry, and Harry, this is my friend Arla. She and I have two classes together.”
Harry smiled at your friend and looked at you, “I’m just about to finish up. You go and enjoy your night off with your friends.”
You didn’t want to part ways with Harry yet. It felt like you needed to sit with him longer. So you turned to Arla, “I’m gonna pass. But you guys go ahead!”
“Are you sure?” She looked from you to Harry and back to you again.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
When she walked off Harry grabbed your hand, “You don’t have to pity me I said. I’m okay, really. I know this has to be boring for you to sit here listening to me whine about my life. You should go.”
Shaking your head you frowned, “I didn’t want to go, Harry. Thought maybe if you’re leaving anyway I could walk you out. Hug you goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll ever see you again. Or if I see you again…”
Harry tilted his head and nodded, “Okay. Deal. I’ll settle up and be right back.”
You watched Harry make his way to the bar and get his credit card back from the bartender. He was achingly attractive, even doing absolutely nothing, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. And far and away the kindest.
When he returned you stood from the stool and he gestured for you to lead the way to the door. The night air was warm as you turned to look up at Harry.
“I’m parked just up the street,” he jutted his chin in the direction of his car, “It was really nice to see you–“
“I’ll walk with you to your car,” you rushed the words out. You weren’t ready for him to leave. You were certain you’d never see him again and that thought was scarier than insisting you walk him to his car. Maybe just being near him for a few extra moments would make you feel better.
Silently you both walked side by side down the sidewalk toward his car. And when you got to his spot he smiled down at you, “Did you drive here?”
You shook your head, “Shared an Uber with two of my friends.”
He nodded, “Well, Y/n…” he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you pulled your arms around his middle and smushed your face against his chest. He squeezed you tight and you squeezed back.
You felt his breath at your temple, “God I’m gonna miss you.”
You tilted your head back to look up at him, “I’m gonna miss you too, Harry.”
The streetlamp that cast the smallest bit of light from across the street flickered off and then sputtered back on again as you kept your eyes locked with Harry’s. You’d miss his eyes and his cologne and how nice he was to you. It felt wrong to simply let him leave.
“Y/n…” Harry spoke softly as he brought a hand up to your face, his fingers slid behind your ear and his thumb caressed your cheekbone, “Can I have one more kiss? If it’s okay?”
Nodding your head you felt his hand pull your face closer to his. He pressed his nose against yours as you fluttered your eyes shut and then felt his lips gently move over yours.
And something inside of you felt like it’d been unlocked as you opened your mouth and let him slip his tongue inside, to which you pressed yours against his and heard him moan.
You gripped his shirt tight and felt him push your back into his car as he caged you in with his arms and his hips pressed against yours. It had all happened so fast but your head was spinning and you both were lost in each other with a hungry kiss and wet lips.
He moved his hand to your neck and wrapped his palm around the front of your throat, keeping his lips attached to yours before he parted with a soft gasp, “Want to hear you say it just one more time f’me, sweet girl. What do you call me?”
You closed your eyes and felt the tips of his fingers squeezing gently at the side of your neck. You knew exactly what he was asking.
“Daddy,” you breathed before you felt his warm lips slot between yours again. He moaned deeply and you clung to his back in hopes of him staying. You didn’t want this to be it.
When you shifted your hips he lowered a hand to your thigh and pulled it upward, tucking himself in closer.
It turned out, that one more kiss wasn’t just any old kiss. Wasn’t just something you could pull away from once his lips smeared against yours, once his tongue lapped against your tongue. You held him tight through his shirt and he kept your thigh hitched over his hip and his hand at your neck as his mouth moved with yours under the flickering streetlamp.
When he pulled back and looked down at you, you tightened your fingers around his shirt, “Do you want to come over? To my place?” You couldn’t let the moment getaway. Couldn’t let Harry just leave like that. You also couldn’t believe you’d asked him over. But it was that or watch him drive away and never see him again.
Harry pulled his hand off your neck and softly tucked his fingers to the back of your head, “Really?”
You nodded and raised your brows, suddenly feeling the heat of embarrassment, “If you want. I mean you don’t–“
Your words were swallowed by Harry’s mouth over yours again. Soft lips and wet tongue making you ache and filling you with just enough gall to ask for what you’d wanted. And that was to have him in your apartment. Alone. You just wanted a little bit more. Before it was all over and forgotten and in the past. Before the moment was just something you’d look back on in the future with a tinge of sadness but with a smile on your face.
Harry opened his passenger side door for you to get inside and you texted Jax quickly explaining your sudden absence with an apology. You could explain to your friends later.
You felt Harry scoop your hand into his as he started his car and pulled out into the street. The song on the radio had just come to an end and a commercial began to play, “You’ll have to remind me of your address,” Harry glanced at you before looking back at the street.
“Oh! Yeah! Of course. Um… Just take this street to Caldwell and take a right and then we’ll go to the bridge and merge onto the highway but you’ll only be on for one exit and then the first right off the access road. Then it’s like two miles and the apartments are on the left.”
Harry laughed, “Maybe you can tell me as we approach where I need to turn. I’m a little wound up right now. Might not remember all that,” he grinned.
You were feeling your nerves begin to bubble with each mile closer to your apartment. But Harry was trying to keep you calm, you could tell.
“So, you told me once you don’t have roommates. Is that still the case?”
You nodded and looked at his handsome side profile, “Yeah. No roommates. It’s only a one bedroom. My uncle is the apartment manager and so I get rent super cheap otherwise I wouldn’t be able to have a place on my own.” “That’s nice. Looking forward to seeing it.”
Biting your lip you looked out the window and felt a pinch of anxiety. You knew what was probably about to happen and you’d welcome it! But then after that what? Would he stick around? Would you see him again? Would Kit be mad?
“What are your plans for tomorrow, Y/n?”
You released your bottom lip from your teeth, “I have a paper due on Monday so I planned on getting my sources and starting the outline. I have it mostly written but now I need to back up what I’m saying and that means I’ll probably wind up needing to rewrite some portions. But that’s my plan for tomorrow and Sunday. Get that finished up. What about you?” You looked back at him as you asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon I’m taking the boys to that Science and Play place. Not sure if you ever heard of it?” He peeked at you quickly.
“I have! I’ve actually been there,” you laughed and Harry softly rubbed his thumb along yours.
“William loves it. He’s been begging to go back. And they have a restaurant there so we’ll make a whole afternoon of it. Let the boys explore. Kit’s going out tomorrow and I don’t want the boys to see her getting all dressed up so I’m going to stay out of the house with them as long as possible.”
You nodded, “That makes sense. I’m sorry, Harry.”
He shook his head, “Don’t be. I’m suddenly not feeling so down about it all right now,” he squeezed your hand as you directed him onto the highway.
You smiled to yourself at his comment and understood what he meant exactly.
After Harry parked in the guest parking spot, you led him to your apartment up a flight of metal stairs to the second floor. You were normally very tidy and neat but you’d been a bit out of sorts since that fateful night and plus getting back into the swing of the new semester meant you had a few things strewn about which all came into view once you turned on the light.
“Sorry about the mess,” you gestured at your couch and the small chair next to it with your clothes draped over the arms.
But Harry didn’t seem to care as he pulled you into his arms and cupped your face, bringing his lips down to yours. You kissed him back with as much heat as he was putting into the kiss. You grasped onto the lats of his back as he moved you with him slowly until he pulled you into his lap on the couch and your fervor only increased.
You ran your fingers into his hair as he kissed his way down your jaw and then to your neck, pecking gently along the front of your throat and back up to your lips, “Loved when you wore that little pearl choker.”
He drew his hands along the outside of your jeans-clad thighs and you pulled away to look at his beautiful face, “I still have it.”
“Mmm… It goes with your innocent act so perfectly,” he grinned, “But I know you’re not innocent, baby. Far from it.”
You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke and you felt that recognizable hardness under his pants.
“Why don’t you go put that pretty thing on your neck for Daddy and take off everything else?”
You were quick to push yourself off his lap and go into your bedroom. You smiled as you pulled the choker from its velvet bag and happily put it back onto your neck. You thought you’d never want it on again, but if Harry wanted it on, you would absolutely wear it.
You pulled your shirt off and began to unbutton your pants before pushing them down your legs. You hadn’t done much upkeep on yourself other than just shaving around your bikini line to keep it neat, but you knew better than to start rethinking everything now. If you had a bit of a bush so be it. You were mostly certain Harry wouldn’t mind.
When you unhooked your bra Harry was standing in your doorway watching you. His hands slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt as he watched you peel your panties down your legs.
His shirt hung open as he stepped in front of you and cupped your face. His eyes wandered over your breasts and up to your choker before setting them back on your face, “Do you know how hard you make me, Y/n? This little thing on your neck,” he lowered his thumb to the pearls and pressed on it, “…these sexy lips,” he dipped in and kissed you as he lowered both hands to your tits, “…and these gorgeous breasts.”
You smoothed your hands over his warm chest as his mouth covered yours with lazy, sloppy kisses.
“Want you to bend over the bed. Show me that pretty ass. I think you need a little spanking for making Daddy wait a month and a half to see you again.”
You moaned and then swallowed as you turned around and draped your upper half over your unmade bed, baring your full ass to him.
You felt his hands cupping your bottom and smoothing up and down to your thighs as he cooed at you, “God damn, baby. Look at you. So fucking sweet and naughty for me,” the first strike against your bottom came unexpectedly and immediately after he spoke.
He brought his other palm down on your other side and you yelped and turned to look at him over your shoulder.
He lifted his gaze from your bum to your eyes and smirked at you as he smacked you again. You dropped your mouth open and groaned when he did it again and again until you squeezed your eyes closed and stuffed your face into the mattress as he left stinging handprints on your backside.
When you felt him move away you lifted and turned to look at him behind you as he removed his clothes. He watched you with dark eyes, his sight moving from your bum to your face, “On your knees. Face me,” he motioned for you to move.
You brought yourself to your knees and looked up at him, your eyes big and round and sweet. He licked his lips and ran his knuckles over your temple, “Gotta burn this image into my brain. The sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He stroked himself slowly, his cock was already fully thickened and mouthwatering. You looked from his big dick up to his face as he dragged a soft thumb over your lips. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you opened up for him.
“Keep your mouth open like this,” he pressed down on your tongue, making your jaw widen, “There we go. Need space for me in there. You want Daddy’s cock inside your mouth?”
You nodded and gurgled a yes which made him grin proudly, “I know you do. You like having your face fucked, don’t you? Little naughty girl desperate to choke and make Daddy happy.”
“Yes. Please…” you panted and opened your mouth wider for him.
Harry smeared his cock over your lips. His warm tip dragged against the soft skin of your mouth as you poked your tongue out to dab at his slit.
“Go on then. Suck.” He prodded himself forward a bit and you wrapped your lips around his smooth tip and grasped at this base. Swirling your tongue around the skin under his crown you pushed yourself down on him and pulled back, sucking in and dragging your tongue along the way before edging back down again, trying to get him as deep as possible.
You’d given head before. You had never much enjoyed it. Felt it was more a means to an end sometimes. But with Harry standing over you and cradling the back of your head, his eyes on your mouth as you took him on your tongue you realized you loved giving head. Maybe it was just Harry, though. Maybe you only loved sucking his cock because it was attached to him and you wanted to please him in every way you possibly could.
“Fuck,” Harry moaned breathily as you looked up at him with your puffy lips parted around him, moving up and down, sucking and licking, hollowing your cheeks every time you pulled back to his tip just before pushing him further into your mouth.
When you put a hand on his ball sac and softly rolled it in your palm Harry threw his head back and panted breathily, “Oh my god, baby.”
You continued your work as your eyes became blurred with tears and your chin wet with drool. You stuffed yourself down over him until his tip was poked into your throat and you gagged around him. When you repeated that move, causing you to swallow around him and gag lightly, still gently massaging his balls he pulled you off and lifted you to stand up.
“Enough for now. Think you’ve earned a reward for that.” He gently walked you backward to your bed and then gestured for you to get on just as he climbed on and pulled you over his lap again. Harry laid down, bringing you with him, and kissed you. You could feel his solid, damp cock against your pussy as you kissed him and he groped your bottom, moving you up and down against him slowly, your pussylips pushed apart and dragged over his cock.
Suddenly he pushed at you, making you sit upright, your hands on his pecs as he cupped your tits in his hands, “I want you to ride my face. Get yourself off.”
You laughed and looked at him, “How should I…”
But you let out a small squeak as he pulled at you and dragged you up his chest and over his face, gripping onto your hips and making you settle your pussy over his lips. He began kissing and licking right away, his eyes on you.
“Ohhh…” you placed your hands on the top of the headboard as you looked down and watched Harry under you. It felt so good having him naked in your bed. Having his eyes on you. Having his hands on your ass. His lips on your pussy.
You slowly tilted your hips forward and felt the sparkle of your clit being pressed into his mouth. Harry held you down tight and lapped at you, concentrating on your clit as he sucked on it.
Harry’s fingers dug into your soft bum and you felt as he moved one hand, reaching further back and dipping a finger into your pussy before smearing your arousal up and over your anus. You gasped as you stared down at his eyes. He softly circled the spot as he continued working on your clit with his mouth.
You’d never had anything done to your bottom before, but if Harry wanted to, you’d let him. You were pretty much all yes and please when it came to him anyway. You’d happily let him do what he wanted.
But he never pressed in. He only pushed at your hole and circled over the outside with a wet finger and it had you reeling.
“Daddy, oh my god!”
Harry moved his hand away and put it back on your hips so he could pull you down and move you back and forth over his face. You felt like you were in such a vulnerable position, naked, sitting on his mouth the way you were. There was part of you that worried you were crushing him but he only pulled you against his mouth harder, his brows furrowing as he tried to draw an orgasm out of you.
He moaned against your clit and drew it into his mouth, letting his tongue flick against it. The little wet noises coming from his mouth against you sounded dirty with the backdrop of your loud moaning.
Sometimes you were able to force an orgasm from yourself if you held your vibrator against your clit. Even if you weren’t worked up at all. Just for a quick release.
But you were definitely worked up with Harry. Wet and puffy and the way he was mouthing and pulling at your clit with his lips you couldn’t stop your climax even if you wanted to. It dripped from your cunt all over his mouth as you loudly cried out. Your thighs quivered around his head as you leaned forward and felt wave after wave of your release.
Harry kept his hands tight on you, holding you close so he could make sure you were feeling everything he gave you.
“Fffffuuuu!” You were feeling overwhelmed as he continued sucking you in and holding you down over him. You whined and tried lifting your hips up but he swatted at your ass before gripping your thigh and doubling down on your clit.
“Oooh ssssshhit! Ffuck!” You were trembling uncontrollably as you white-knuckled the headboard and looked down at the scene of the crime. Harry’s head between your thighs with his eyes on yours and his wet nose was lewd.
But then something snapped and the overwhelming feeling started to melt into yet another orgasm that was drawn from you without warning. You cried and whimpered as Harry let go of your thighs and put his hands at your waist to keep you steady. Your whole body trembled as you tried to hold onto the headboard but you were feeling out of your mind and blurry.
When he moved you to your back you were still coming down from the back-to-back orgasms and your brain was trying to fight its way back to the surface of clarity and awareness. Harry lay next to you and kissed your neck, his fingers trailing up your tummy and over your breasts and to your little choker, “You okay, Y/n?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Your chest was still rising and falling heavily as you nodded, “I’m so good.”
You felt Harry’s thigh draped over the tops of yours as he trailed soft kisses up your neck and to your jaw, “You are so good.”
Reaching across your body you placed your fingers in Harry’s hair, “I want you to come, Daddy.”
Harry laughed out a puff of breath against your jaw and lifted his face to look at you, “Oh you do? You’re so sweet, honey,” his voice came out raspy and deep as he kneed his way between your legs, pushing your thighs apart and fitting himself comfortably over you, pulling at your knees to bend them up so your feet were flat.
He smiled down at you, breaking the lusty moment, “You don’t happen to have a condom do you?”
You thought for a moment. You were sure you didn’t, “I don’t really think I do. But,” you gulped and flexed your fingers nervously into the skin of his back, “I’m on birth control, so…”
Harry pursed his lips in pause as he kept his eyes on yours, “Okay,” he dipped down to kiss you, “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Want to feel you,” you nodded.
You were still so wet between your legs. You could feel Harry’s length easily slide against your pussy as he shifted himself down and pressed the top of his thighs into the back of yours, pushing your legs up slightly.
He placed his forearms down on the bed, caging you in, and pressed his mouth to yours softly. You felt him nudging at your opening so you lifted your hips, pushing against him as his tongue licked at the crease of your lips. The moment you felt his bulbous tip press through the tight muscle of your opening you gasped, dropping your mouth wide open. The feel of him entering you slowly with the weight of his hips against yours had you melting.
“That feels so good, doesn’t it baby?”
You whimpered with a nod, “Yes, Daddy…”
“Fuck I can hear how wet you are for me,” he pulled back and then pressed in. “Gonna make me come so hard, sweet girl.”
The deeper he went in the more you felt your body floating away. There was no question that Harry had a big dick. And you knew he was aware of this as well because he was gentle with you as he inched his way in and pulled back slowly.
When he’d finally poked in as deep as possible and his balls were tucked into your ass he sloppily kissed you as he began to fuck into you with slow and languid strokes. Gushy and hot and unforgiving. Even as slow as he was going every time his head nudged into your cervix you hissed into his mouth. But there was something about the little ache that you loved. Probably because it was Harry.
His pelvis dragged against your clit every time he pushed in and you felt his hand clutch the back of your neck as he licked into your mouth.
Your pussy was so full. So happy. You could feel yourself open and stretch around him. It had your head spinning.
Harry grunted as he lifted himself and softly pressed his nose against yours, “Feel that, baby? Feel Daddy’s cock sliding inside of your tight pussy? You’re gripping me so good.”
His slow rhythmic thrusts grew faster as he let go of the back of your neck and pushed himself up, palms on the mattress. His plunges were deeper and stronger and his thighs and back were flexing as he worked himself in and out, faster little by little.
“Shit! Daddy!” You shakily yelped at the faster cadence and the way he was now punching into your cervix, “It’s so fucking deep,” you gritted your teeth and threw your neck back.
“Is it too deep for your little pussy, honey? Huh?” He rutted his hips in as he asked, punctuating what he meant.
You inhaled sharply when he plunged in again, grinding his hips against yours and stuffing himself into the hilt, “Oh my god, yes! But I need it!”
Harry groaned as kept himself balls deep and sat back onto his haunches, grabbing onto your thighs to keep you in place.
With his hands at the back of your knees, he began to slide into you in long, heavy strokes until he was smacking into you just enough that your tits were bouncing and your bed was creaking in time with his thrusts.
Harry licked his thumb and lowered it to your clit which had you jolting with a small cry. Your clit was super sensitive after the way he’d handled you moments earlier.
He watched his cock move through your hole, your pussy wrapped around him tight and coating him in your cream. He moaned as his thumb was lathered in your arousal from how he was slipping it back and forth over your puffy clit.
Your small grunts and squeaks increased the wetter you got and the harder the mattress bounced under you. The patting of his skin against yours was rhythmic and bumped you upward every time he slammed into you.
You started to see stars, you could swear it as your limbs began to tingle and disintegrate. Harry was grunting and moaning at the view of your pussy wrapped around him tight and the way it felt to be swallowed by you, warm and wet and clenching.
Harry gasped and paused his strokes as he breathed heavily. His chest was red as leaned back over you and kissed you so sweetly it took your breath away. You both moaned in synch as your tongues wound around each other and wet lips slobbered together when he began to drill into you again, slower but with muscle.
You started to quiver with his chest pressed to yours and his cock deep inside of you, his pelvis grinding against yours.
“There you go… let me feel that pussy coming. Oh, baby that feels good doesn’t it,” he rutted into you as he spoke against your lips.
You nearly howled with your third orgasm. It was one thing to come from clitoral stimulation but quite another to have your clit being smeared into while having a big cock nudging in and out of you as you lost control of all functions.
Harry watched your face as you scrunched your brow and chanted Daddy and he drove into you in solid, squelching plunges. His cock made its way over your spongy insides repeatedly, hitting that one spot with his big crown over and over again until you were spent. Done for. There was nothing left for you to give.
Harry kissed you softly, stuffing himself into you gently, and moaned, “M’gonna come baby but I’m gonna pull out okay? Where do you want it sweet girl?”
You peeled your eyes open and exhaled softly, “In my mouth. Let me have it in my mouth, Daddy,” you nodded as you gripped his shoulders.
Harry stopped his motions and looked at you, almost as if in awe as he ticked his head back in forth like he was in disbelief, “Yeah?”
You nodded as he plunged in a few more times, pressing you upward, his eyes on yours as his moaning progressively got softer and you swore whiney even.
He pushed himself up and pulled out, taking his cock in his hand and pumping himself, smoothing your creamy arousal around his shaft and smothering his palm. He took his other hand and pulled you up by your neck and brought your mouth over his cock as he sat back onto his haunches.
You quickly lowered your mouth over him, tasting your juices as you sucked him in and then felt him begin to release down your throat in spurts. He coughed out a loud groan as he rutted upward, his tip slipping down your throat with his hand at the back of your head, “Fuck!” He panted and you felt his thighs shaking as he rolled his hips upward.
You swallowed and gurgled him down the best you could, gripping the base of his shaft in your hand and sucking while swirling your tongue around him until his cock stopped throbbing and pumping and he was softly gasping and breathing.
You licked your way up and popped your mouth off of him but you were in a daze.
Harry smoothed his lips against yours and easily laid you down on your back, “Just lay here and rest. I’ll be right back sweetheart.”
You closed your eyes and hummed to yourself at the taste in your mouth and the way your body was buzzing with satisfaction.
Opening your eyes just as Harry walked back into the room he was buck naked, cock swinging, chest slightly damp, and impossibly strong thighs. A god really. You’d never get over his body.
He held a glass of water out to you and had brought in a damp towel to wipe you up. You sat up to take a few gulps of water before he delicately pushed you to lie back down. The towel was warm and it felt so good on your sensitive skin.
Harry laid next to you and kissed your cheek and then nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath falling over your skin, “You’re amazing, baby. I’m never gonna forget tonight. So good for me.”
You sighed and turned to face him as he gently dabbed between your legs, “Kiss me, Daddy.”
His grin made the edges of his eyes crinkle, “Happily.” He pressed his mouth against yours and you both kissed soft and lazy as he tossed the damp towel to your floor and wrapped you in his arms.
You couldn’t be sure of how he kissed you but when he was helping you out of bed and speaking softly to you about having a bath with him so he could hold you longer you felt wobbly still.
With your eyes closed and your back against his chest in the warm water, he started talking. And as you felt more aware and conscious you realized he was sort of spilling his guts to you.
“I was so sad when I woke up this morning. But seeing you and all this,” he squeezed your arms, “I think I can breathe now. You made everything feel better, Y/n.”
You listened closely as he continued, his chest vibrating as he spoke, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. And I realized something too. Tonight. Just now. I think Kit was right. You and I do really have good chemistry. We fit so well together don’t we?”
You hummed and nodded with a small smile on your face.
He sighed and pulled his arms around you, “Don’t want this night to end. Want to just stay here with you, holding you like this.”
Your heart began to pound as you started to feel his words. You knew what he meant and you felt it. You could feel his scruff on your temple as he rubbed his face in toward yours, “You feeling better now?”
You nodded and turned toward his face, “Yes. So much better. You make me feel so good.”
Harry slowly blinked as he kept his gaze on yours, “You make me feel so good too.”
When the water grew tepid Harry wrapped you in a towel and tightly hugged you as he walked you to your room and made you drink more water.
He took your towel off and helped you into your bed and pulled your blankets over your naked body before he began to pick up his clothes from the floor.
You pouted and sat up, “Please don’t go. Will you stay here tonight? I need you here with me. I think I just…” you felt tears in your eyes as you looked upward to will them away.
Harry dropped his pants to the floor and sat on your bed, cupping your face to look at you, “I didn’t want to assume you wanted me to stay. But I’ll stay tonight. I’d love to stay with you.
So he did. He held you in his arms, pet your back, and kissed your forehead until you had drifted away into a deep sleep.
The morning was slow with the first bit of sun shining through the cracks of your window. You were burning hot in Harry’s arms so you poked your head up and breathed as you wiggled out of his hold.
“Where you going?” His groggy morning voice was too sexy to make sense.
“I have to pee,” you laughed as he released your wrist and you quickly padded to your bathroom.
When you got back into your room Harry was already dressed and running a hand through his hair as he looked at himself in your mirror.
Turning to face you he grinned at your Pokemon robe, “Cute. You’re always so fucking cute, Y/n.”
You looked down at the robe and shrugged at him with a small smile.
“I have to go. I hate to leave so quickly but I’ve got to get home to the boys and get them ready for our little outing today.”
You nodded, “Yeah. That’s okay. I understand.”
Harry tilted his head as he stepped in front of you and pulled you in for a hug. It felt like one of those this-is-it hugs. It felt so final.
“Y/n,” Harry pulled back to look at you, “You’re amazing. If you ever need anything or just want to say hi, you know how to reach me.”
You walked him to your door and watched as he made his way down the steps and out of your sight. Your final view of the only man you were sure you’d never get over.
. . .
“This is cute,” your cousin reached out to touch your pink pearl choker as you stuffed your bag with clothes.
You paused what you were doing and placed your fingers over the necklace with a smile, “Thank you.”
The necklace gave you warm and happy memories now. As much as you wished something could have happened between you and Harry you knew that just wasn’t possible. He was going through a divorce, had kids, a broken heart… But your last night together had mended you wholly. You knew it was something you’d never forget and you were grateful to him. You just hoped that maybe it did him some good too. Maybe it was something he took with him that made him smile like it did you.
The days and weeks after had been hard for you. Often you’d pick up your phone and compose a text, only to read it over and over again before deleting it. It was hard to let him go completely but now it was Christmas Eve and you felt like you were on the other side of it. Mostly. You still thought of him every day but it was easier.
“You have such good taste. You’ll have to go with me shopping sometime.” Chandy spoke as she plopped down on your bed next to your bag.
“That sounds fun actually.”
Chandy had come over to your apartment to pick you up since she lived so close. You were heading to her family home an hour out of the city. It was tradition for the whole family to get together at your aunt and uncle’s lake home. It was gorgeous in the winter with their soaring windows and snow all around.
You stacked presents into two grocery bags and slung your overnight bag over your shoulder, “Ready?”
“Yes! First, I have to use your bathroom then we’ll hit the road.” Chandy rushed off.
You sat on the edge of the arm of your couch and pulled out your phone to see a text that had your heart squeezing and throbbing.
It was a picture of Harry and the boys in front of a Christmas tree and his text read:
Merry Christmas, Y/n. We miss you!
You quickly typed out a response.
Merry Christmas! I miss you guys so much!
You placed your hand over your heart to calm yourself and the sudden rush of all your feelings you thought had begun to fade away came rushing back.
You closed your eyes after you watched your sent text go from delivered to read.
When you opened your eyes and saw that he was typing something your entire body grew hot as you stared intently at your phone.
“Okay! Ready!” Chandy chirped.
You stood up with your phone in your hand, “Uh, I’m gonna just go to the bathroom too real quick!”
You closed the bathroom door and felt the vibration from an incoming text. A wide grin on your face.
What are you doing for New Year’s?
As fast as your fingers allowed you responded.
No plans. What about you?
It was the longest wait while you watched the bouncing dots stop and restart. A full minute of waiting as you flushed the toilet (to pretend you’d been using it so Chandy didn’t wonder) and then washed your hands, staring at your screen.
The boys and I will be making a very “special” dinner and then we’ll ring in the New Year with sparkling grape juice and The Poseidon Adventure. They each invited a friend and told me I had to invite someone too.
Drying your hands off, you bit your lip and typed.
That sounds so fun. Who will you invite?
You chuckled to yourself. You were almost certain he was inviting you but you couldn’t be sure until you saw his response.
I’m inviting YOU. Wasn’t it obvious? ; )
Well, in that case, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. <3
. . .
You had no idea what to expect for New Year’s but you and Harry hadn’t stopped texting since he reached out. The whole time you were with your family on Christmas you kept your phone by your side so you wouldn’t miss a single message.
You dressed casually for the New Year’s Eve party at Harry’s because there were going to be 4 ten-year-old boys there. And you learned the “special” dinner they were making was grilled cheese sandwiches, French fries, and for dessert chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It honestly sounded amazing.
You also learned that Kit had moved out, leaving the house to Harry and they were on very good terms. They would split custody of the boys 50 / 50. And that technically they were still married but the divorce was moving along quickly because there were very few things that needed to be worked out. They seemed to be on the same page.
You parked in the street in front of the Styles house and noticed lights strung up on the columns of the porch and a Christmas wreath on the front door.
The moment you closed the door to your car you saw the front door open and Warner and William busted out and ran toward you, “Y/n!! You came!” – “Dad said you were coming!”
They both hugged you, one on each side and you could have cried. You hadn’t seen them since August and it was already December. You felt like they’d grown bigger in those few months.
They started to pull you toward the house but you laughed and stopped, “Hold on! I have presents for everyone in the car I have to get.”
You opened your trunk and pulled out two bags that had presents inside and when you closed it Harry was there in the yard watching you with a soft grin. You felt blood rush to the apples of your cheeks at the sight of him and your heart throbbed in your chest.
“Hi, Y/n,” his dimples winked awake and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he stepped forward to take your bags, handing one to Warner and one to William, “Take these inside and pour Y/n a glass of the New Year’s mocktail we made. We’ll be right in.”
You clasped your hands behind your back as you let your eyes fall over his outfit. He was wearing a red chunky knit sweater with a big green Christmas tree in the center that had gold and silver balls all over it, “Love the sweater.”
Harry looked down at it and back at you, “Love that you’re here.”
The heat that spread over your face stretched down your neck and your back as he stepped in closer. He was far too handsome for his own good and all the memories you had with him were flooding your brain with inappropriate thoughts but also with fondness and excitement.
“Thank you for inviting me.” You looked up at him as he stood directly in front of you.
Harry stared down at you for a moment, his eyes blinking and his pink lips twitching tremulously, “I know I look ridiculous in this,” he gestured at his sweater looking down at it and then back at you, “and this isn’t the most romantic reunion but I wanted to ask you before the festivities started if you’d like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”
Your lips parted as the question floated around in the air between you two. You couldn’t believe he was asking you on a date.
“A date? Like…” You bit your lip and looked down at the ground and back up at Harry, “A date date?”
Harry smiled widely and nodded, “A date date.”
You exhaled a small laugh and nodded, “Harry, I’d love that. Yes.”
Suddenly his arms were wound around your middle and you squealed as he lifted you from the ground and spun you in his arms. The moment your feet hit the grass he gave you a quick kiss, cupping your face in his hands, and then parted as he looked back at the house.
Harry let you go and smirked at you as he took your hand to lead you to the house whispering, “Now I know this sweater is pure sex but you’re just gonna have to keep your hands to yourself tonight.”
You laughed and squeezed his hand, “It’s gonna be hard but I think I can behave.”
Harry stopped and turned his face toward you, his warm mouth at your ear, “Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here.”
A/N: I hope you guys loved this! Let me know your thoughts please!!
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Alex worked the skin of her forehead with her fingers, angrily kneading the flesh in a vain attempt to suppress a pounding headache.
“I’m telling you, I’m fine,” Kara insisted.
She was not fine, damn it! Kryptonite exposure was serious, even if it had no apparent, immediate effects. The little chunk of vibrant purple rock was currently in a lead-lined chamber where Brainy was mercilessly prodding at its secrets, trying to figure out exactly what it did other than make Kara sweat profusely when she was within ten feet of it.
“I don’t feel sick. What’s the big deal?”
“Red Kryptonite didn’t make you sick at first, either,” said Alex. “You’re not leaving the Tower until I’m certain you’re not going to track down Cat Grant and fling her off the nearest roof.”
Kara, seated on her hospital bed in the med bay, crossed her arms and pouted theatrically. “That was one time.”
She sounded a little brittle, probably because they didn’t talk about that. Well, they did -Kara cried for hours- but afterwards the whole thing became a sore spot and it was clear they they weren’t going to talk about it again. Alex could hear the little crack in Kara’s voice, the touch of strain that signaled how on edge she was.
“Running off and hiding won’t make it any less real, kiddo,” Alex sighed. “Once we’re sure you can go, but no Supergirl for at least a week. I don’t know if what that stuff did to you, but I don’t want to risk your powers shutting off while you’re thirty thousand feet up, or something.”
Kara huffed. Fine.
It was an abundance of caution, to be sure, but the others could pick up the slack. Kara had taken breaks before, and the world didn’t fall apart. Sometimes Alex wanted to just grab her and shake her for all the good it would do. Kara deserved some time off. She deserved to be a person too.
“What’s going on?”
Alex looked up and tried to conceal her relief as Lena walked into the room. Alex liked this new Lena a lot more, the Lena who ran a charitable foundation and didn’t straighten her hair anymore and wore hoodies most of the time. This Lena was friend-shaped, as it were, and put her at ease.
Almost.
“Kara was exposed to a new form of Kryptonite, and…”
And she was off the bed.
Kara was already on her feet. Her pupils were so dilated that her eyes were almost black, the blue almost absent. She was staring at Lena with such an intensity that Alex was afraid she was about to attack her.
Lena looked panicked, but not by the Kryptonian staring her down. “What? Where is it? I need to see it right now, what if…” Lena trailed off, her face going slack for just a moment.
Alex stared at her. What the fresh hell was this?
“Guys?” said Alex. “What’s wrong with… you…”
Kara stalked forward, walking in a hip-popping sashay that would have made a Victoria’s Secret model blush, surging into Lena’s personal space, and… sniffed.
Then sniffed again.
Kara was smelling her.
“Uh,” said Alex.
Lena looked up at her -in flat shoes she was noticeably shorter- and sniffed back. Alex’s jaw went slack.
“Okay,” said Alex. “I’m going to need one of you to explain why you’re doing… that. Like right now.”
They both ignored her. Lena slipped in close, ducking under Kara’s chin, and sniffed at her again. It looked quite a bit like she was about to press her mouth to Kara’s throat, which was both shocking and… seriously, five fucking years of these idiots shooting and missing was bad enough, but right in front of her?
“Hey,” Alex said, taking a step towards the door. “Uh, we good?”
Kara wrapped Lena up in her powerful arms and nuzzled her nose into Lena’s hair, her chest thrumming with a loud purring sound.
“I’m in the room,” Alex deadpanned.
“Alex,” Brainy called, rushing up the hall.
A powerful… scent, or maybe an odor, washed over Alex and she nearly gagged. Whatever it was, it was making Lena try to climb Kara like a tree. The moment Lena popped one of the snaps on Kara’s cape and it fell halfway off her back, Alex bolted for the door and yanked it shut behind her as she stumbled into the hallway.
Brainy was outside, snd Nia was with him.
“Alex, I have good news. The radiation from the lavender Kryptonite sample appears to be entirely benign, although curiously it seems to have activated some anatomical peculiarities that appear to be, so to speak, left over from the evolutionary ancestors of Kryptonians.”
Alex groaned. “Such as?”
“Scent glands, and a peculiar ability to-“
“Guys,” said Nia. “What is that noise?”
Brainy paused, focusing. “I believe that Lena just addressed Kara as…”
“Did she say ‘daddy’?” said Nia.
“Shut up!” Alex barked, slapping her hands over her ears. “I am not hearing this, tralalalalalalala I’m going to the bar!”
“Yeah, I’m coming too,” said Nia.
Brainy turned, listening.
“Evidently, so is Lena.”
“I hate my life” Alex muttered.
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl#supercorp fanfic#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#Lavender Kryptonite#it’s not just gay it’s hyper gay#sex pollen or something#Lena was just waiting for an excuse#Kryptonians are aliens#Kryptonians can purr#there was a point where this needed to stop and we have clearly passed it#Lena is like thirty seconds away from calling Kara ‘daddy’ at any moment#alex is like will you two just bang already i’m trying to play board games#alex danvers is done#poor alex
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