#i wrote and drew this a while ago

[mordremrose]

“I’m not him.” The words were choked, strangled even. Caithe set aside the journal she was writing in, and turned to see Bloom. “Who?” She asked, even if she already knew who he was talking about. “Trahearne.” Bloom muttered, his massive form slowly shuffling forward. “I’m not- I tried, but I can’t—“ He paused and a low rumble rattled the lower portion of his strange form, the plates of bark rising in agitation. His tail lashed and his hands dragged over his face. His palms caught on the spines along half his face and he winced. “I know you all see him. In me. You want me to be him.” Bloom seemed to deflate, sinking down to the ground. All of his limbs folded inwards, curling around his torso and Caithe swore she saw him tremble. “But I can’t. I can’t, I’m sorry—“ “Bloom.” Caithe spoke gently, standing up and coming closer. His eyes were squeezed closed, she noted. He didn’t open them to look at her, until she reached out and laid her palm on his massive front limb— paw? She still wasn’t sure. “Bloom. Look at me. Please?” She repeated, gently as she could manage. Caithe was not a woman well versed in being a comforting figure, in being someone who offered their shoulder to one in need. But Bloom needed her. He chose to come to her, about this. She could only imagine the courage it must’ve taken him to trust her with this, after everything. Slowly, Bloom opened his eyes and leaned down, so his massive head was closer to her. He still curled his arms in around himself, clawed fingers making grooves in the thicker bark along his arms. Now Caithe could see the tears welling up in his golden eyes, and her heart ached. She could see her brother in his face, or perhaps she merely imagined she could. But his eyes, glowing amber in a way that made part of her mind want to vanish and hide away from his gaze... that was not Trahearne. And it never would be. “I’m sorry, Bloom.” She murmured, stepping towards his face. “For making you believe you had to be him.” Caithe hesitated before she reached out, gentle as she wiped away the tears at the corners of his bad eye. It was a little easier for her to avoid the massive thorns along his cheek and jaw, she told herself, but Bloom leaned into her touch and she knew it wasn’t that simple. “It is cruel, to expect you to be a man you have never met.” Caithe muttered. “You cannot choose to be someone you are not.” Briefly, unexpectedly, a memory surged in her mind- a memory of Trahearne saying something similar to her once, years ago.

“You are not as cruel as you pretend to be Caithe. I think we both know that.” He said, his voice calm but sad. Caithe pretended to ignore him. “…I miss Wynne too, you know. And Riannoc as well. It is okay to mourn, Caithe.” “I don’t need a lecture, Trahearne.” “I am not here to lecture you.” Trahearne’s hand came to rest on her hand, steadying her grip on the vial of poison she was preparing. “Aife told me about Faolain leaving the Grove. I promise you, Caithe, you are not alone. You do not have to harden your heart. You do not have to be someone you are not.”

She had yanked her hand away from him back then, snarled something about not needing him to tell her who she was, and stormed off, not ready to confront her feelings, never mind share them. Caithe took a deep breath, letting her hand simply rest against Bloom’s cheek. “You do not have to be someone you are not, Bloom. Just because you do not know who that is yet, does not mean that you have to pretend.” She said, meeting his eyes. “I am sorry, Bloom, truly, that we… that our expectations—“ She shook her head. “We have made you feel this way. It isn’t fair to you. And for that, I can only offer my apologies, and try to do better.” Caithe hesitated. This was where her knowledge faltered. Was this when she offered a comforting hug? Could she hug Bloom? His size certainly made it questionable, and the pain he has described to Taimi made her wonder if a hug would even feel pleasant in his situation, or if it would just be another reminder of how out of place he was among the rest of Dragon’s Watch. Between Bloom and the Commander... she had a life time of apologies ahead of her, and not the kind that hugs would be enough to bridge the gap. “Caithe.” Bloom muttered, and even though he spoke quietly, she could still feel the depth of his voice in her chest while standing this close. “Yes?” “Thank you.”

[marquisecubey]

wish you were here

[arrozconlecheeee]

I redrew some doodles from earlier this year on my priv twitter(о´∀`о)

Song: Supermassive black hole - Muse

[tariah23]

I was on my way back home from work when I saw this shit and lost the ability to speak… wobbled and almost fell to the ground in the dark bro I’m so serious 😭😭😭- cried for weeks- (still heartbroken 💔. I hadn’t felt this way about an anime man in idk how long 😭….)

[hermit-searching]

hi. I'm back on my vocaloid propaganda again.

human au Donnie be like-

[finalexit]

*estrogenizes my oc*

[purplecoffee13]

Cross The Line*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N have always had a great professional relationship, all based on one rule; a line they drew the first time they met. But when one day that line accidentally blurs, Harry finds that he doesn’t want it to go back to the way it was…”

Wc: 13k

Tropes: Boss!rry x Secretary!Y/N

Warnings: A LOT of back and forth (this is what Katy Perry wrote hot and cold about), arguing, curse words, smut, dirty talk, degradation, light ch0king, dom/sub dynamics, edging, b0ndage, and recording while… yk🤗

A/N: I’m terribly sorry to have been testing your patience so much the second half of this year, here is a long one shot to say I’m sorry🥲 and I appreciate all of you and I hope you are happy and healthy and will get everything you want in the new year xx💘💘

General Masterlist

HEADER = POV change

Harry's relationship with his secretary is completely normal.

At least, he’s always thought it is.

Sure, it may have seemed more friendly than the usual boss/secretary relationship, but that was only because Y/N was special. She was one of the kind. Smart, stealthy, and sneaky if need be. She did everything he asked for, sometimes before he even realized he should ask her, and was always ready to do more.

Of course, she was attractive as well. Shit, attractive may have even been an understatement. Y/N was drop dead gorgeous and Harry was entirely aware of it. Her ambition made her even sexier, and it's one of the reasons he hired her in the first place.

When Y/N walked through his office door that first time three years ago, he couldn't believe his eyes.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, those wide eyes staring back at him as she froze a couple feet away from him. She was quick to regain herself, though—he had to give her that. But she was nervous as she sat down, even though her movements were calm and the tone of her voice stern. He saw the slightest shake of those hands of her.

Because that job interview hadn't been the first time Harry and Y/N came across each other. It was actually a Halloween party at some high end secretive club in New York one month prior. A night that ended with them hooking up in one of the private lounges.

Even back then, when he never thought he'd see her again, he knew that he would never forget that night, nor the way her face scrunched up as she clenched around him, or the sounds that she made as he drove into her.

He could see that she remembered it as well as she sat across from him that day, but Y/N had quickly made it clear that she was serious about pursuing a career in the film industry. She said she could prove what a great secretary she could be for him, as long as they could put that Halloween night behind them and pretend it never happened. She wouldn't make him regret it, she had told him. He took the chance.

And she had been absolutely right.

Three years had passed and Harry was still thankful to himself for hiring Y/N. She was the best around; fiercely loyal as well. Y/N had been offered jobs by other companies, but she turned down every last one of them. Harry liked to think their relationship played a bit of a part in that as well.

They had become friends—if that's what you could call it—over the years. They had a playful dynamic filled with flirty jokes and random phone calls and favors that blurred that line they had drawn so carefully during Y/N's job interview.

No matter what, Y/N would be the first Harry would call, every time. Whether it was bad business news or a drunken phone call, her number was most likely to be at the top of his last calls. And she always answered, even though she didn't have to. It was a special bond, and while they always danced on it—especially Harry—they never crossed that one line.

Not that Harry needed to. As a matter of a fact, he had quite the adventurous love life. With plenty of people on speed dial and a charming smile that could make anyone's panties drop, Harry wasn't short on romantic escapades. The one thing they all had in common, though, was that it'd never last longer than a few days, and they were rarely ever repeated.

The same couldn't be said for Y/N. In fact, Harry had never seen her with anyone outside of her work, and he never heard her mentioning anything about it...

He didn't know why, but somehow, that thought popped up into his head last Friday as they sat in his office with a drink, celebrating the outstanding reviews that critics had given the newest produced film that was set to premiere next week. Before Harry knew it, he was asking about it.

"Why are you rubbing your temples?" He questioned, watching Y/N massage the side of her head with her eyes closed. He was leaned back in his seat, whiskey in hand as he observed the woman across from him.

"Tension headache." She groaned in response. Despite her grumpiness, Harry couldn't help but grin. What could he say? She was cute when she was grumpy.

"We are literally celebrating, Y/N. What could you possibly be so tense about right now?" He teased, and felt his stomach swirl as a smile painted her lips. She might have rolled her eyes, but she still thought he was funny.

"Oh you have no idea." She mumbled, grabbing her glass and leaning back into her chair. She took a big gulp, her face pulling at the strong taste of the liquor. Harry chuckled.

"You should relax more. Maybe get a hot date to take care of some of that stress for you." He suggested jokingly. Y/N scoffed at the insinuation.

Shaking her head, she said: "I get taken care of just fine, thank you very much."

The equally teasing tone in which she responded caught Harry seriously off guard. Her slight grin pressed down on his chest, and despite having started this joking banter himself, he suddenly didn't find the topic very funny anymore.

"When?"

Y/N locked eyes with her boss. “What?”

"You're here 24/7, when do you even have time to hook up with someone?"

"You know there's this thing called weekends." She joked, but the amusement faded when Harry's mouth didn't even quirk upwards in the slightest bit. It fell quiet for a second or two, and just when Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in."

Harry had said, and soon enough Robin, one of the managers walked in, telling them everyone was going to the pub down the street to celebrate, and if they wanted to come along.

Harry didn't even have the chance to reject the offer—he'd rather spend his nights with his secretary—before Y/N agreed to go along. Feeling obligated, Harry reluctantly gave in as well.

He ended up going home quite early that night, not even properly saying goodbye to Y/N like he normally would before leaving, and he couldn't get the image of her wrapped around another man out of his head the entire ride home. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the fact that it shouldn't, and more importantly, couldn't bother him, which made it even less bearable.

Whichever reason there may have been for it, he decided to drown out his thoughts by inviting one of his old hook-ups to his house. But even as he drove himself into her as she kept screaming his name, he couldn't stop thinking of Y/N. When she had reached her climax and he began to chase his own high—Harry was caught off guard by Y/N's face flashing through his mind, and extremely embarrassed when those images triggered his orgasm.

The next week is awkward, to say the least. It started out Monday, when Harry could barely look Y/N in the eye. She had received the sudden cold shoulder pretty well, but Harry still felt horrible about it. His attitude got less stiff throughout the week, but it was still bad.

By the time Thursday rolls around again, Harry still hasn't had the chance to get that weird feeling out of his system. So when he approaches his office and spots Y/N behind her desk smiling at him, a wave of guilt washes over him.

He curses himself as he sinks into his desk chair, absentmindedly turning on his laptop. What is he doing? Y/N is his assistant. He shouldn't let his protectiveness of her get the best of him. He does not want to lose her in any way.

Harry flinches when there is a knock on his door. He looks up, finding Y/N standing in his doorway. Immediately, he signals for her to come in. She seems a bit nervous as she nears him, and considering she's never been nervous around him, his heart sinks at the idea that the cold shoulder he's been giving her the other night might have affected her way more than he thought.

He just doesn't know how to behave instead.

"You have a meeting in conference room C in five minutes. It's the banker's son who's been proposing his script for the past year. I  know your schedule is tight, especially with the premiere coming up, but I thought you might as well get it over with." She says, putting a stack of papers on the table that Harry can only assume is the script. He nods, quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, smart thinking." The praise falls from his lips in a casual manner, and he doesn't miss the way she physically relaxes at the positive reinforcement. She nods at him, and turns back to the door. Right before she is about to leave the office, she turns around again. Harry leans back in his seat, waiting to hear what she'll say.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped last week." She says, and Harry frowns at the apology.

"What?"

"I clearly said something that ticked you off." She explains,her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know we joke around, but I was afraid that maybe I'd accidentally crossed a line—“

"Y/N, stop it." Harry interrupts her, getting up from his seat. Her lips are locked within a second, and she stares at her boss with wide eyes. His stomach twists at the sight of it. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But— if I said something inappropriate then I want to apologize for it." She says, straightening her posture again, biting her bottom lip so he won't see it quiver. As if he doesn't know the way her body works. As if he hasn't known for three years.

Putting his hands inside his pockets, Harry walks around his desk and stands in front of her. A little closer than he needs to, and yet not as close he would like.

"Let me ask you this: How many times have you declined booty calls for me?" He asks, tilting his head a bit. A slight smile appears on Y/N's face, and she pretends to think it over.

"Twenty-seven." Her smile crinkles her eyes, making them even more glassy. Harry quite literally feels his hand itch to touch her face, but he keeps it sternly in his pocket. "I kept track so I could count all the reasons you definitely won't get into heaven."

At that, he lets out a snort. Y/N can't help but chuckle too, and slowly but surely the weirdness dissolves from the room. When the laughter has died down, she speaks up again.

"So... we're good?"

"We're good." Harry smiles at his secretary, and his chest heats up when he spots the faint blush that appears on her cheeks. Jesus Christ, did she become even more beautiful than she was yesterday or was he just too stupid to notice earlier? Probably the latter.

"Well in that case you need to leave because your meeting is like, right now." She reminds him, and he hums in agreement as he gets up from his seat and walks towards the door with Y/N.

"Already gone, love." He winks at her, walking out the door with a lot more confidence in his relationship with Y/N. Maybe everything can go back to normal again. Maybe he was just exaggerating when he couldn't get her out of his head this weekend. Perhaps it was just a glitch, a temporary error in his brain that had come and gone in a flash.

That must've been it, he tells himself as he makes his way to conference room C. He takes a deep breath, musters a polite smile, and opens the door to the room. Harry already knows this guy is going to be wasting his time, but he made a promise to hear him out, so he will.

The guy sitting at the table is the stereotypical spoiled rich son. When John Longwell—a long-time business partner of Harry's— asked him to revise his son's script as a favor, Harry told him he'd do it if he ever found the time. He always hoped John's son would lose interest and forget about the script by the time Harry could find a free space in his agenda, but unfortunately that hadn't been the case.

And although the arc of the story had sounded absolutely horrendous— something about zombies fueled by a brainwashing radio song, which didn't even make sense to Harry because zombies don't have brains—he couldn't back out anymore. So he needs to get it over with, starting now.

Harry loudly shuts the door.

The guy—whose name he can't really remember at the moment—flinches and turns around, a big grin on his face as he gets up from his seat.

"Mr. Styles, it's a pleasure to see you." The man says, extending his hand, which Harry, in turn, takes. He only gives a slight nod before heading over to the other side of the table and sitting down.

"So, where's your script?" Harry asks, eyeing the empty table. The guy looks flustered, opening his mouth to say something, but the opening of the door interrupts that. Harry leans back in his seat when he spots his secretary walk through it, not even eyeing the other guy as she struts over to him and lays the printed out script on the glass table.

"Sorry, you forgot this. It was still on your desk." She says, finally turning to the man to throw him an innocent smile. His sheepish grin satisfies her enough to turn back to her boss and focus all her attention on him. "I also forgot to ask you— do you want to move up lunch today?"

The corner of Harry's mouth tugs up. Over the last three years, the concept of 'moving up lunch' has become a code for 'should I get you out of this early?'. Y/N came up with it a long time ago, and it has stuck ever since.

"Yes, I would very much like that. Thank you, Y/N." He says, and the way a smirk slowly creeps onto her face makes the hairs on his body rise.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Styles." She gives one final nod before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Harry would lie if he said he didn't let his eyes fall onto the way her hips moved as she strolled away.

Unfortunately the fun doesn't last long, and with the slam of the door Harry is reminded that he still has to sit through this meeting a little longer. He looks down at the script.

"A Thousand Zombies

By Jason Longwell."

Right, Jason, that was his name.

"Jesus Christ, if that were my secretary I'd have her bent over my desk all day. How do you get any work done?" Jason breathed out, grinning like a stupid fucking schoolboy. Harry quite literally felt the storm cloud that came floating right above his head the second he heard that incompetent loser say those words. His hands balled up into fists at the suggestive comment, knuckles getting whiter by the second.

"Get out." Harry growls. John raises his eyebrows, looking around him as if Harry couldn't have possibly been addressing it to him.

"W— what?" He stumbles.

"I don't do business with insolent idiots. Get out." Harry repeats, getting up from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. John follows his movements, anger starting to cloud on his face.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He exclaims in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. At least, Harry assumes that's what he's trying to do.

"I called you an idiot. Now, get the hell out of my face before I boot your sorry ass right to the front door." With one brow raised, he waits as John tries to muster a response until he eventually gives up and storms out of the room. Harry throws the script into the trash as he walks out of the conference room half a minute later. Y/N is immediately by his side.

"That was quick, I didn't even have time to think of an emergency." She jokes as they walk back to Harry's office together. He raises a brow.

"Yes you did. What was it this time? Food poisoning?" He guesses, holding the door to his office open once they've reached it. Y/N grins as she walks past him and takes a seat at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Actually, your car was going to get stolen in about five minutes." She responds, the blush of her cheeks revealing the slight embarrassment of having to voice this excuse out loud. Harry's eyes widen as he walks over to his desk, feeling his assistant watching his every move. He quite likes the feeling.

"No way." He laughs. "You just get more creative by the day."

"What can I say, I'm good at crisis management." She shrugs, crossing her legs and getting into a more comfortable position on the chair. Harry tries his best to not let his eyes float to her legs.

"That you are." He murmurs, the huskier sound of his voice giving a different ambiance to the conversation. As Harry feels the mood switch, he curses himself. Why did he have to ruin it?

Y/N clears her throat. "Anyway— why'd the meeting end early?"

"It ended early because Jason Longwell is a sleazy douchebag." He responds shortly, straightening in his seat in an attempt to gain control of the situation again. He can't let himself slip like this again, and she can't know the real reason he kicked out Jason. But there is no denying the sheer rage that boils his blood when that comment flashes through his memory. He hates that the asshole thought he could just speak about Y/N like that.

"Ooh, what did he say when you kicked him out?" Y/N asks eagerly, still in a playful mood. "You did kick him out right?"

"I don't have time to get into this right now. I need to sign those contracts that were sent in yesterday before I go home." Harry says sternly, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he speaks, but he still sees the slump in her shoulders at his sudden shift in attitude.

"Right, of course." She immediately returns to the responsible secretary she always is, getting up from her seat. He hears her exit the room, heels clacking against the wooden floor. As soon as the door has shut, Harry throws his head back in frustration.

So much for going back to normal.

Playing into the teasing will only rope him further into that forbidden fantasy, and he clearly won't be able to stop himself from resisting her if he does. But he's the one who started all the playfulness, massively screwing himself over he realizes now. If he shifts his behavior, she's always going to think he's mad at her because of something.  But he's going to have to, because Harry can't go back to normal anymore.

Deciding he needs to clear his head, Harry grabs his coat and heads for the elevators without so much as a word. He pretends not to notice the way people's eyes widen when he walks by, suddenly on their best behavior, and although it used to give him an ego boost back when he started, nowadays he just prefers it if people aren't scared of him.

It turns out to be a particularly nice outside for a winter day in London. Not to get it twisted— it's still freakishly cold. It's just that the sun has replaced the endless rain of this entire month. Harry suppresses a chuckle at the irony of the sun finally being out at the very first moment where he's felt so shitty in a long time.

He doesn't know how long he's outside, so he knows it's not fair to be frustrated when he comes back and Y/N isn't at her desk, but he can't help the slight distress that washes over him at the empty seat.

"It's just a date—"

"Your second date!"

Harry creased brows don't do much to hide his feelings when he turns around to see his secretary with a co-worker. The shy smile on her face—accompanied with that blush on her cheeks she always gets when she's secretly giddy about something—disappears at the sight of her boss looking at her like she just killed a puppy.

"Ha— Mr. Styles." She is quick to catch her almost error. Her wide eyes bore into his, filled with confusion and worry. But Harry's frown doesn't give away much, aside. From the fact that he is obviously annoyed.

"I was looking for you." He states stoically, not even acknowledging the employee that is standing next to her. The woman takes the hint and gives Y/N and Harry a small nod before walking away. As soon as she does, Harry turns around and walks towards his own office. He can hear her footsteps following him inside, and with the inconsistent clacking against the floor he can tell she's having a hard time keeping up with his long strides. Still, he doesn't slow his pace.

"I need the papers for the donations printed out and on my desk. And I'll need you to move the meeting with the director of the romance movie to Tuesday evening."

"Yes, of course." The breathy response falls from Y/N's lips the second he finishes his sentence, and by the time he enters his office, she is long gone to do exactly what he asked. Harry shuts the door a little louder than intending to, accidentally shaking the framed artwork on the wall.

Y/N isn't very talkative for the rest of the day, that usual spark of hers seemingly having dimmed. Harry's chest is heavy, knowing his cold attitude was the catalyst for that, but he keeps it up nonetheless. He can't help himself from falling back into it every time he sees her face.

A date. She's going on a date. A second one at that. He can't believe it. Is this who she referred to when she said she gets taken care of? His stomach churns at the possibility.

He tries not to, but Harry still gets warped into the spiral of overthinking about 'date' Y/N has tonight. So much, in fact, that he almost doesn't notice the time flying by until Y/N knocks on his door at 6PM. Harry spots the coat that hangs over her desk chair, and he realizes the work day is over.

"Everything is done for the day and ready for next week. I also sent the papers about the donations with a courier who owed me a favor, so the documents are signed on both parts and the donations will be officially registered by Monday." She explains, hands behind her back. Her new shy behavior—while quite endearing—is excruciating to see. She had always been comfortable around Harry, until now. Until he had to ruin it for the both of them.

"Thank you." Harry gives her a firm nod.

"No problem." She responds a bit awkwardly. "So... I'm going to clock out for the day."

Y/N has already turned around by them time Harry's voice croaks out a 'no'. She whips her head towards her boss, head tilted as she awaited whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I need those contracts for that romance movie." He says before he can even comprehend his words.

"But you won't be negotiating that deal for another two weeks." Y/N retorts, her tone more stern than usual. He can tell she's tired.

"I don't care. I want them on my desk tonight." He holds his head high, despite knowing damn well what he's doing.

He's stalling. Long enough for... he doesn't know actually. For her to cancel her date? It sounds ridiculous now that he really thinks about it.

"Harry, I have an appointment tonight—"

"I said I don't care. I pay you to do as I ask. This is not something you can argue me on." He grumbles. With how Y/N's jaw is clenched, he can't say the same for her attitude. Without another word, she leaves the office.

Harry's worry begins to grow every minute that passes with Y/N out of sight. But when she returns with a stack of papers in her hand after a bit—seven minutes to be exact—that worry evolves into surprise. Walking over to his desk, she plops the papers on them a bit carelessly before speaking up.

"I had them made on Monday because I like to be a few steps ahead." She elaborates. "Now, if that's all, I'm going home."

Y/N doesn't even say goodbye when she grabs her coat and walks to the elevators. Harry sighs to himself, not knowing how the hell he should handle this. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes he really can't do this anymore. He needs to talk to her, if only just to clear the air.

And so, he gets up from his seat and hurries after his assistant.

He catches her just as she walks into an empty elevator, and he joins just before the doors close. Her knitted brows make it clear that she is not in the mood to talk to him.

"I'm sorry... about the documents." Harry confesses, but she doesn't face him. It stays quiet between them for a bit, until the biting sentence falls from Y/N's lips.

"You said we were good."

His heart cracks at her wobbly voice. He can't believe he made her feel this way. If any other person would've brought her to tears, he would've beaten the shit out of them. He reaches for her arm.

"W— we are." He lies. It's the biggest lie he's ever told her, and she knows it, because she immediately turns around.

"No we're not! I said I was sorry if I did something wrong, and you told me it was okay, and now all of a sudden you're being so... cold. I don't understand—" her eyes become glassy. "I don't understand what I did wrong."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to spout out his apologies, when Y/N's phone starts to ring. It takes them out of their little trance, and Y/N fumbles around her jacket for a bit until she's finally found her phone. He can't see who's calling her, but it can't be an expected call if he has to judge by the expression on her face.

"Marco, why are you—" her eyes widen at whatever the voice on the other side of the line is telling her, and Harry subconsciously finds himself leaning in a bit in the hope to find out what's wrong.

"What?" Y/N breathes. Her voice is small, and it sounds defeated, tired. The elevator dings, signaling they're downstairs, but Y/N doesn't move, so Harry doesn't either. She seems to notice and lets out a huff before storming out of the confined space and pacing around the lobby.

"You said we had a green light! That was months ago, Marco! Did you even—" She growls, clutching at her phone so hard Harry is afraid she's going to break it. "You know what, never mind. Give me his number."

The Marco guy seems to say something that he really shouldn't have said, because with the way Y/N's face twists Harry swears he can see steam coming out of her ears

"I don't care that they're not answering, I'll make them answer. Give me their numbers and then go find them." She orders before ending the call. And although the thought really shouldn't be crossing his mind right now, Harry can't help but notice how attractive Y/N is when she's mad. He shakes off the thought, telling himself that's the last thing he should be paying attention to right now.

Y/N paces around one more time, cursing under her breath, before striding past Harry and pushing the elevator buttons like a maniac.

"What's going on?"

Y/N shakes her head. "N— nothing. Just a little hiccup that could've easily been prevented. I won't be long."

Harry raises a skeptical brow, but she doesn't dare to meet his eye. She's lying through her teeth.

"Y/N—"

"Harry, really, it's nothing. I'm taking care of it." She tries to convince him, but he notices the way her hands are slightly trembling. "I'm sorry I was unprofessional. You're my boss. It's my job to take your orders, not question them."

Wait, no.

That aching feeling fills his stomach. His entire body, for that matter. He doesn't want her to be a silent and compliant assistant. That's not why he hired her. He needs someone to push back, to joke around with. Shit— what has he done?

Harry finds himself speechless as she enters the elevator and pushes the button of the seventh floor; the office. His brain isn't fast enough to think of what to say before the doors shut and the elevator ascends.

His feet stay glued to the ground as he ponders, his mind reeling like a rollercoaster. Frustration fills his body to his every finger tip. Everything has gone wrong, and he has no idea how to make it better.

At least ten minutes must've gone by by the time that a concierge taps Harry on the shoulder to ask him if he's okay. Still a bit wary, he nods before excusing himself and leaving the building.

Everything is going wrong.

Leaning over the desk with her face buried between her arms, Y/N is unable to hold back the tears that glide over her cheeks.

First, her boss gets mad at her, and she has no idea why. Then, just when they seemed to be okay again, he changed his attitude up again. And what does she do instead of letting it go? She starts a fight. And now Marco drops a disastrous bomb in her lap that could entirely ruin the movie premiere on Sunday. And if that wasn't enough—and she really thinks it was—this sudden crisis caused her to cancel her date of tonight.

It wasn't anything special, really. Y/N had met Jamie a few weeks ago, and they went out last week. He was a nice guy, handsome too, and she thought he was perfect for a short lived affair. Besides, her vibrator just couldn't live up to her fantasies. She was human, she needed to get off every now and then too. It was like Y/N had this itch in need of scratching, one she hadn't been able to reach in what felt like years.

But that wasn't going to happen now. In fact, she was risking being fired if she didn't solve this problem as soon as possible.

Damn! She really thought she had kept it all together, despite the extreme business this year. She thought she'd done a good job.

But that was a lie, because if she had done a good job, Marco wouldn't have ever gotten into the position where an artist on the soundtrack could manipulate the contract they signed. Y/N had told Marco to make it airtight, already having been suspicious of the artists' integrity from the moment they became part of the soundtrack. She assumed that they would try something.

'Chain' was an up and coming band known for their indie sound, but Y/N would just describe them as two pricks. Not only had they been subtly demeaning to her when Harry met with them, barely acknowledging her existence, they were arrogant as well. They came in expecting a lot more money than Harry and the rest of the company were willing to give them. It was absurd that they expected such a big number, but their cocky attitude didn't fade throughout the meeting.

It was truly a favor to the director, why Harry worked so hard to compromise with Chain. The director had been so passionate about the movie, and he had really wanted the song. If one thing was important to Harry, it's that there went passion onto the projects he produced and invested in. So, he decided to help, and eventually managed to struck a deal with the singers. It was still way above the pay grade they should've got—in Y/N's opinion—but they agreed.

Having seen first hand how greedy those two were, she had told Marco—the guy who handled all the legal documents—to make that contract airtight. She demanded to look it over, but because of her busy schedule, she let Marco have another lawyer look at it before sending the contract.

And now, because of a lazy mistake Chain's lawyer found, they are demanding more money or they'll waive their rights to the music. Something which would be absolutely detrimental because the entire climax of the movie, the cinematography and timing are all tuned to the song.

If she doesn't find a way to solve this problem, this entire premiere could fall apart, and it would all be her fault. She gave the green light to Harry, who gave it to the director. It's all her fault. 

She should've fucking read that contract herself, then this would've never happened.

Between Harry being mad at her, the fact that she was in her luteal phase, and this sudden disaster, the tears began streaming down her face, and the soft crying only turned into full on sobs the more she tries to calm herself down.

She allows herself the mental breakdown, but when she begins to regain control of her breath again after a few minutes, Y/N decides that it's enough. She has a job to get done, and no one was going to swoop in and save her.

So, she starts making call after call, ringing everyone in the immediate vicinity of the two arrogant bastards. It's crucial she reaches them before the night is over. Only forty minutes have passed by the time she is on the seventh person, but it feels like an eternity nonetheless.

She flinches when, while trying to reach Chain's tour manager, the elevator door dings and a shadow nears. Her tense shoulders sink a little bit at the sight of Harry, glad it's not some creep. Her brows crease as she watches him walk towards her. He's carrying a couple of bags with... is that food? It sure smells like it.

When the call goes to voicemail—for the third time—Y/N puts down the phone and gets up from her seat, hurrying over to her boss and stopping him before he could reach her desk.

"What are you doing here?!" She asks, blocking his way. He lifts the bags, a subtle, apologetic smile on his face.

"I brought food—" He looks up at her, and his eyes darken as soon as he takes in her face. "Have you been crying?"

Y/N raises her hands to her face, quickly glancing at the ground while she wipes her cheeks before meeting his eyes again. Harry puts the bags down, and it feels like her heart skips a beat or two when his thumbs stroke the skin under both her eyes. He leaves his hand around her face, cupping her jaw while he stares at her with such a piercing pain in his eyes that it makes Y/N's eyes water altogether again.

"What's wrong?" His voice is soft, and the feel of his big, warm hands holding her is comforting her in a way she hasn't experienced in a quite some time. Y/N only focused on his chest, afraid that the welled up water in her eyes will spill out again the second she looks at her boss. She told herself the crying was over, so why wasn't she able to control herself?

A few seconds pass, and silence runs between the thick air that makes it nearly impossible to breathe normally. Then, Y/N feels the slight pressure of Harry's hands, inching her head upwards. Automatically, her gaze flicks to that of her boss, and when she sees the worry on his face, a tear escapes her eye. His thumb catches it before it has the chance to roll down all the way down her cheek.

"I messed up." She only says, closing her eyes in shame. Harry says nothing, only letting out a sigh as he continues to caress her cheek.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Y/N reluctantly backs away from Harry's touch, and runs over to her desk to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" She says, her voice laced with such desperation that she internally cringes at it.

"Y/N? It's Marco. I found them, they're at a studio just outside the city."

She hums, grabbing a pen. "Give me the address."

"No, I'm going. This is my mess, Y/N, I'm not going to let you clean it up." Marco croaks from the other side of the line, and Y/N feels his voice tug at her heartstrings.

"Marco, listen to me. This is as much my fault as it is yours. I should've read the damn thing and notice the mistake." She replies, leaning over her desk to grab her coat.

"Y/N, I'll take care of it, okay? I found a fault in their loophole, they're stuck. Let me handle this. You just go home and enjoy what's left of your evening I ruined—" Marco tells her. "Wait, didn't you have a date tonight? Oh my god, did I ruin your date?"

"I did... but it's alright. It probably wouldn't have worked out with him anyway." Y/N chuckled awkwardly and glanced towards Harry, who looked weirdly annoyed at what she said.

"I'm so sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Marco shares the desperate plea.

"You can make it up to me by giving me the address of the studio." Y/N tells him cheekily.

"Y/N..." he warns.

"What? I promise I'm going home. It's just so I know where you are." She lies. Y/N is a good liar, except in front of Harry. Having a tendency to get nervous, she always betrays herself. She's lucky that this is a phone call, otherwise Marco would've known she wasn't planning on going home at all.

Hesitantly, he gives her the address, which she immediately writes down on her hand.

"Okay, thank you Marco. Good luck." She says, hanging up the phone with a lot more confidence than ten minutes ago. She can feel Harry staring her down as she puts on her coat, clearly waiting for an explanation for this whiplash-like behavior.

"I really have to go."

Harry shrugs. "I'll give you a ride. You can explain everything to me on the way to your house."

Y/N shakes her head, walking towards her boss. "No, really, you don't have to."

"Yes I do." Harry argues.

"You really don't."

"Do you have a problem with me bringing you home, Y/N?" He asks as if he's dumb, as if he doesn't know she's secretly trying to go to that studio.

"No!" She is quick to protest.

"Or does it have anything to do with the address of that mysterious studio you've written on your hand?" He teases, and Y/N clenches her jaw in frustration.

"I just— I need to make sure it's handled." She sputters. Harry shrugs.

"From what I heard it's being handled just fine." He points out. "You've got to learn to let things go sometimes, Y/N."

She shakes her head, looking the floor. "I can't. Not with this."

Harry lowers his head, trying to get on the same eye-level as her and searching for her eyes. "Why not?"

"I told you; I messed up." Her voice quivers as she tells Harry the truth. "There was a mistake in the contract with Chain. Somehow they found a loophole, and now they want more money or they'll waive the rights to their song."

"What?!" Harry growls, exactly like Y/N anticipated he'd react. God, he's going to fire her any moment.

"It's my fault. It was a reference mistake I could've easily spotted if I had taken the time to revise it." She admits, feeling extremely shameful of her lazy actions.

"What are you talking about? This is the legal team's fault, they should've seen that damned mistake! It's not in your job description to revise a contract, it's not your responsibility. It's not your fault, Y/N." He explains. She sucks in a breath, his words hitting her harder than she expected. Heart aching, the one sentence rings in her head.

It's not your fault.

That couldn't be true, could it? She was responsible for this deal, and for Harry. She should've seen this coming, even though she couldn't have possibly known. Did she not always pride herself in having this sixth sense, in being ahead of everyone else? What was she without that? What was she if not the best at the one thing that made her special, that set her apart from the crowd. What was she worth without that invincibility?

"You revise every contract, don't you?"

Her eyes flick towards her boss. She doesn't say anything, but the answer is hidden in her pupils. And it seems Harry can read them like an open book. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Two years." Y/N stammers, her arms crossed as if it will keep her body from revealing whatever her mouth won't. Harry just lets out a breathy chuckle before pulling her into his arms, taking her into a sweet embrace. With his chin leaning on her head, Y/N takes the opportunity to bury her face in his chest, trying not to bask too much in the heavenly scent of his cologne.

"Remind me to give you a raise." He jokes in a soft whisper, earning a sniff of laughter from Y/N.

For a while it seems like everything that tore her down, including what went down between her and Harry, didn't exist anymore. There was just him and her, their embrace and a distant ticking clock, the only indicator of time passing. Yet it felt like the world stopped, or slowed down at least, being in Harry's arms like that. And suddenly, that itch that she hadn't been able to scratch in so long, it felt like it was soothed by a stroking hand instead, and in a way it fulfilled her. It just so happened to be a way she did not expect.

The initial shock at the realization—this puzzle piece that suddenly clicked—made Y/N back away. She clears her throat, fiddling with her hands.

"They're supposed to be at this studio right outside the city. It's only twenty minutes away by car. I just need to be sure." She announces. Harry grabs the bags of food he put down before placing his hand on her lower back and guiding the both of them back to the elevator.

"We'll take my car." He states, and although Y/N can tell by his tone that Harry expects there to be no talking back, but she just can't help herself.

"Harry, I told you I can take a cab." She suggests as they wait for the elevator door to open. Harry doesn't respond as he guides them both into the small space and pushes the button for the ground floor. When the door closes, he turns to her, looking down at her with such an intimidating stare that Y/N feels like she's shrinking.

"And I told you: we're taking my car." He says sternly, his low voice twisting her stomach in an interesting way. When Y/N goes to open her mouth again, Harry lays his finger on her lips. He hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

"I was being clear, right?" He asks rhetorically. His gaze sweeps over her mouth before settling on her eyes again. Not daring to speak another word, let alone breathe, Y/N only nods in response.

"Good." Harry responds, a cocky smirk framing his face as he strolls out of the elevator, leaving Y/N breathless and in a slight trance. Blinking a few times, she comes back to her sense and hurries after her boss.

Richard has always been a master at reading people, and this time is no exception. The second he began driving, he raised the partition, leaving Harry and Y/N with some privacy.

Harry really has a knack for hiring the right people.

The first few minutes of the car ride are silent, and Harry spends it observing Y/N as she picked at her nail beds, frantically looking at of the window as if it would make the car move faster. She has so much tension inside that little body of hers; she is clearly in need of a distraction.

"I think I'm jealous."

Y/N's head whips to him, brows raised at the sudden confession. Her body turns with her, knees now in Harry's direction as she leans back into the seat, getting comfortable as she lays close attention.

"Of me?" She asks, utterly confused. She seems very lost, not really connecting the dots. Harry doesn't blame her; that confession was quite out of the blue.

"Of whoever gets to take care of you."

Pure silence. Harry swears he could hear a pin drop. Y/N stares at him like a deer in headlights, probably having no idea what to say or do or think. She gulps.

"What?" Her voice is so soft that he almost doesn't hear her, but since all his focus is on her, he doesn't miss it. Letting out a breath, he leans forward, placing a hand on her thigh. His face inches closer and closer until their mouths are mere inches away from each other. Checking for her reaction with every small movement, he can't help but notice how she doesn't stray away from him. In fact, she leans in, causing their lips to brush against each other.

"The idea of another man touching you, having you, it makes my fucking blood boil." He says, voice hoarse. Her eyes frantically search every last inch of his face, looking for something she seemingly can't find. Perhaps she's attempting to find the usual playfulness that always accompanies any conversation that blurs that line between them. In that case, she could keep looking forever and ever, because he is dead serious. Fuck how it used to be and fuck whatever's right or wrong.

And most of all, fuck that line, because he's crossing it.

Harry closes the small gap between them, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to work up his throat at the sole feeling of her lips against his. What a fucking idiot he was for ever agreeing to forget about that Halloween night. Not that he ever truly did forget about it. Besides her obvious competencies, hiring Y/N was a way of keeping her where he seemed to like her best from the moment they met; close to him.

With that thought in mind, he wraps his hand around her face and pulls her closer. She complies, clicking her seatbelt free to move further towards Harry when he slips his tongue inside.

Their mouths move against each other like it's both the first time and the hundredth time they've done this. So familiar and yet it's like nothing he ever felt before. A sensation so different from three years ago, one so heavy and laced with a detail his brain can't quite seem to grasp. Deep down, he knows what it is, he just can't quite lay his finger on it.

But his body can, and it does, and so does Y/N's, because her grinding against him is exactly what he needs. His hand sneaks around her neck, lips curling into a smile at the familiarity of the curves of her neck and the identical moan that falls from her lips just as it did three years ago.

Harry groans when the car suddenly stops and Y/N falls forward a little bit, the friction against his trousers being a bit too much to bear at the moment. Slowly, the partition lowers, and without so much looking at them through the mirror, Richard speaks up.

"We've arrived."

Wrong. Harry clearly hasn't.

Before Harry can catch his breath, Y/N can get off his lap, and either one can even answer, the partition rises again. Immediately, Y/N throws her face into Harry's neck.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She wheezes out in pure, utter shame. Harry shakes his head, a faint grin on his face. He would have been laughing his ass off if he wasn't so painfully hard right now. Instead, he only pats Y/N's back, telling her it's fine. She groans and opens the car door.

"No it's not! God, I will never be able to look him in the eye again!" She says, punching the bridge of her nose. Harry shuts the door and grabs Y/N's waist, pulling her towards him. She stumbles into his chest. He lifts her face with his fingers, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're going to have to, because I don't want to fire him." He jokes, and Y/N bites her lip to keep her smile from growing too wide. Not wanting to give Harry the satisfaction that he made her laugh, she looks to the side, but her face expression falls quickly.

"This is not my apartment." She notes, looking at the huge building next to her. "This is yours."

Harry nods.

"I can't be at your apartment, I have to—" Y/N stops herself before she can say more. But Harry already knew what she was going to say. Playfully, he raises a brow.

"You have to... what?"

"To... I have to—"

"Sneak out to that studio?" He finishes her sentence, and her eyes widen. She tries to regain herself but her cheeks are flushed and there is nothing she can do anymore. He's got her. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

With that, he places a hand on her lower back and guides her towards his building. She stumbles a bit, but eventually catches onto the pace. But her body language is apprehensive, looking back at the road where Richard is standing. Or well, was standing. Harry ordered him to drive away as soon as they got out of the car.

Still, she turns around in a quick motion, trying to get to a cab. Harry's arm catches her, however, and he pulls her back against his chest. Along with his other hand, he turns her around, catching sight of her big eyes boring into his.

"Don't try me." He speaks slowly, dipping his head down until he finds himself inches away from Y/N. "You know what happens if you try me."

His voice is lower than before, having flipped a switch now that her mouth has been on his. He got a taste for the first time in years, he wasn't going to let her get away now. Y/N's breath hitches, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Knowing he's got her right where he wants her, Harry pulls back and strolls toward the entrance of his apartment building. Soon enough, he hears those heels behind him and he smirks.

It's silent when they step in the elevator, and for the first few seconds, as Harry leans agains't the wall and observes his secretary, it stays that way. She eyes him a couple of times, her ears getting redder.

"What?" She breathes out, looking down at her body like there must be something wrong if he's looking at her for so long. He simply shrugs.

"Nothing. Just admiring you."

At that, Y/N vigorously shakes her head and crosses her arms. A soft scoff leaves her mouth, one she didn't think Harry would hear, but he did. He takes a few steps towards Y/N, inching her against the wall.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He asks sincerely, searching for her eyes. When she finally looks up at him, the nervous smile on her face fades a bit.

Harry doesn't like that look on her face. Needing to fix it, he leans forward and plants his lips on hers again, grabbing her face and pulling her into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before her arms are wrapped around his neck and their bodies are impossibly close to each other again.

Tongues delving deeper into each other's mouth, Harry feels himself floating on some sort of feeling. Despite not being able to define it, he is absolutely positive that he doesn't ever want it to stop. And since kissing Y/N causes this specific feeling, the only feasible option is to never stop kissing her. It's the best plan he's had in ages.

It doesn't take long before the situation gets heated, much like it did before, and Harry's hands trail to Y/N's hips to pull her against him. Desperate for any sort of relief, Harry's hips automatically start to move, and Y/N immediately responds. His body feels like it's on fire, and he tries not to let out any sounds as his strained cock rubs against his tight pants.

Harry takes his lips off Y/N's mouth, peppering kisses to her jaw instead. Slowly, he works his way towards her ear, where he stops to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to remind you how fucking beautiful you are." The hot breath that left his mouth had her shuddering against him, a slight whine escaping her lips. As he leaves sloppy kisses on Y/N's neck, Harry's free hand slowly travels under her shirt, finding her bra.

She gasps softly when his hand starts to massage her breast, the sensitivity of both spots leaving her hot and bothered under Harry. Fuck, she is so fucking stunning, how did she not see it herself?

Suddenly, the elevator stops, and the door opened. Taking a step back, Harry only winks at Y/N before he turns around and strolls out as if it's a casual Friday. As if he doesn't have his secretary, whom he left high and dry, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks when they enter his home, Harry immediately going into the kitchen.

"Absinthe." Y/N breathes out, leaning over the kitchen island. Harry peeks inside his fridge.

"I only have white wine."

Y/N shrugs. "I'm sure it'll have the same effect if I just keep drinking."

Harry chuckles, grabbing the bottle of wine and placing it on the counter. He walks to a cabinet and takes two wine glasses out of it. Placing one in front of Y/N and the other in front of himself, he opens the bottle and starts pouring, not stopping until the glasses are halfway full. Y/N laughs at the ridiculously full wine glass that he pushes her way, but takes it gladly. He doesn't miss the way her breasts nearly spill out of her top as she leans forward a bit further than intended to in order to grab the glass.

"To the unexpected." She says it like it's a dare. Amused, Harry decides to entertain it, and nods his head.

"To the unexpected."

They raise the glasses before both taking a long sip. Y/N rests her arms on the table, giving a perfect view of her tits right in Harry's frame. She smirks when his eyes accidentally fall on it, and Harry's stomach swirls with excitement. She's trying to play.

"Crazy, how fast life can change, isn't it?" She asks rhetorically, and Harry just hums, waiting patiently for her to reveal what she's trying to do. "I mean, I got up today thinking I'd end the day in another man's bed."

There it is.

She's always been smart, and she knows how to push Harry's buttons. Though his fingers grip the kitchen counter tightly, so much that his knuckles turn white, Harry keeps the corners of his mouth lifted.

"And now you're here." He says, head tilting just a bit. She hums in agreement, taking another sip from her wine.

"Yeah, but just crazy to think that I went into the day thinking I'd hook up with someone else." She tells it so innocently, as if she's mostly talking to herself. Harry's jaw clenches as he stalks around the kitchen island and nears Y/N.

"But you're not, though." Harry notes, falling right into the trap. He knows what she's trying to do but he just can't help himself. He doesn't like the idea of her being with another man. He waits for her answer, hearing his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"I know, but I could have—"

Before the sentence has entirely left Y/N's mouth, Harry's hand flies to her neck. The amused look on Y/N's face tells him enough, but he doesn't care.

"You're not. You're in my bed tonight, and any night after that as far as I'm concerned, so I don't want to hear another fucking word about it."

Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she stares up at him. "You really are jealous."

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, "And you've gotten feisty over the years."

Y/N bites her bottom lip, humming in agreement to his observation. Harry lets out a soft chuckle, tightening the grip on her neck. Y/N gasps in surprise.

"But do you still like to be put in your place?" He asks, inching his face close to hers. The answer is written in her eyes, and yet Y/N doesn't respond. When it's clear that she won't anytime soon, Harry's free hand sneaks around the waist of her pants. She shivers at the touch.

"Well? Do you?" He repeats himself, and slowly but surely, Y/N nods her head. Harry lets out a disapproving noise. "That's not a proper answer."

Closing her eyes, Y/N lets out a deep breath. "Yes, I like to be put in my place."

"That's what I thought." Harry laughs, taking his hands off of her entirely. She frowns, but her eyes widen when he barks out a demand. "Take off your clothes."

He watches carefully as she follows his orders, and she clearly takes her time stripping down to her underwear. When she has, she looks to him for some sign of approval, but Harry just raises his brows. His hands are sunk into his pockets as Y/N lets out a little breath and takes off her bra and panties.

His eyes trail down her body, his cock hurting at the sight of her. God, she's beautiful. He feels like an absolute idiot for not having fought for her earlier, but he reminds himself that he can't change the past and that she is here now, stark naked in his kitchen. A grin spread across his face.

"Do you remember how you addressed me all those years ago?" He asks. It takes a few seconds before Y/N answers, but she gives him a firm nod.

"I called you sir."

Harry nods. "Rules haven't changed. Now, get on the counter."

Her eyes flick to the marble countertop, shock flashing through her eyes. "But Har—"

His right brow lifts ever so slightly. Catching the hint, Y/N stops herself before she can finish the sentence and hoists herself on to the cold countertop. It must not be very pleasant to lay your naked body on that freezing surface, but it was an uncomfortable temporary obstacle. The results would be great, and in about thirty seconds, she'd forget all about that cold touch against her skin.

Harry pulls out one of the bar stools and sat directly in front of Y/N. Spreading her legs apart, he catches sight of that perfect pussy he has been waiting three years to taste again. Like a starved man sat in front of a feast, the urge to dive right in is almost too strong to bear. But before he has her writhing under him, he wants to make her shiver.

"Can't believe it took us so long to get here." Harry hums, tracing his fingers up her thigh, carefully observing the way Y/N tries to control her breathing. Her fists are balled up into curls, attempting to send her concentration to anything else than Harry. He tries not to let his smugness show too much, but he has to say he likes seeing her struggle a bit. A bit of payback for trying to toy with him just now.

"You've always been stubborn." Y/N jokes, a gasp strangling out of her when Harry's fingers ghost over her clit. He chuckles, the tone of his voice so low that it could almost be considered evil.

"If I remember correctly, you're the one who wanted to forget about that Halloween night." He notes. Y/N hums.

"I also made the condition to act professionally, but we didn't do that either." Her eyes gaze into his, catching the fond smile with which he stares at her. A faint blush erupts on her cheeks.

"You drew the line." Harry retorted, and Y/N scoffed.

"You crossed it about a hundred times." She argues in response. He only hums, that cocky smirk on his face.

"I did, and consider this hundredth and first time to be the last, because I'm not getting behind that line again."

Y/N has never been so turned on her in her entire life. Harry’s words are the epitome of determination, and the way his fingers slip inside her so easily the second he finishes his sentence only solidifies that notion. The gasp that leaves her mouth is cut short and evolves into a low moan as Harry’s lips latch onto her clit.

Sensitive would be an understatement for her current state. She is aching, and the way Harry is ravishing her almost hurt. But any pain dwells in comparison to her desire she was overcome with at the situation she currently finds herself in. She is on Harry's kitchen counter, legs spread wide open and letting him do all the things that slipped into her dreams over the past three years.

Harry sucks in all the ways that made her squirm, moving his fingers with such ease that made it seem like he has fingered her a thousand times already. As if he knows her like the back of his hand, as if he knows all her secrets, even ones she doesn't know herself.

Y/N's hand buries itself in Harry's hair when he begins to kitten lick her clit, and she feels that inevitable climax inching closer and closer. She wonders how she had been able to keep herself composed for so long, because the high that creeps up on her feels like it was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the sensation comes to a grinding halt when Harry backs away from Y/N. Her head shoots up, and finds him leaning over her body, wearing boyish half-smile that is now glimmering with her juices.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other one under her legs, he picks her up bridal style. She holds onto his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. When she begins unbuttoning his shirt, he throws her on his bed. She lets out a soft yelp, bouncing onto the bed.

"So greedy..." Harry tuts in disapproval, but Y/N doesn't quite care. She wants him, bad, and now that she's had a preview of what's to come she doesn't want to wait any longer. She needs him and she needs that orgasm.

She pulls him closer by his pants and starts to unbuckle his belt. "You're taking too long."

Y/N is about halfway done when Harry's firm hand wraps around her neck and pulls her closer to his face. Inching down, he growls: "You'll take what I give you."

"Then give me something." She spits back, and Harry's eyes turn five shades darker at her invitation to a challenge. He slowly leans back, Y/N watching his every movement in anticipation.

"On your stomach."

Y/N stomach swirls at the command, and she obeys as quick as she can. It stays silent for a little bit, and she awaits his further actions eagerly.

"Hands behind your back."

Again, she does what he says. Y/N doesn't dare to turn her head as she hears Harry walking around his room. When she feels a silky material around her wrists, she knows enough. He's tying her up.

Knowing better than to do otherwise, Y/N keeps her mouth shuts as Harry makes an impenetrable knot with his tie. She moves her wrists, assessing how tight it really is, and gets interrupted by a punishing slap on her ass. The sting remains for a couple of seconds, and she is sure there is now a red print the size of Harry's hand on her right cheek.

"Ass up." He barks out his final order, no doubt smirking as she changes her position, slightly struggling now that her arms are of no use.

Y/N bites her lip in anticipation when Harry's hand grabs onto her hips, steadying himself behind her. She slightly flinches forward when the tip of his cock teases her entrance, and attempts to speed up the process by leaning backwards a bit. She's rewarded with another slap on her ass.

But then Harry finally sinks in, and that dreadful itch that plagued Y/N for such a long time is finally scratched, over and over again as he begins to pound into her with long, slow strokes.

"Fucking hell..." Harry murmurs, his cock suctioning into Y/N's tight, clenching pussy. He is so big, and it bruises her in all the right ways.

"Oh baby... thaaat's it." He groans when Y/N begins to bounce back on his cock, aiming to get it even deeper inside of her. She is ruthless in her movements, groaning at the overwhelming sensations. When Harry gropes her ass— and his nails bite into her skin—she loses control.

Burying her face into the mattress, Y/N screams as she reaches her peak. The sound of Harry's moans at her pussy convulsing around his cock only strengthens her orgasm. Her mind goes entirely blank as the shattering release ripples through her like an earthquake. The only thing she can think of is Harry's name, and it's the only thing she cries out as the dizzying explosion settles all over her body.

"You really are desperate, aren't you?" Harry sneers as he pulls his cock out of Y/N, letting go of her hips. She nearly falls over, her tied up hands making it difficult to catch herself. This orgasm was so intense, she could feel the three years of pent up tension as it washed over her. Her cheeks are burning red and her teary eyes makes her vision somewhat blurry.

Y/N is thrown off when Harry suddenly turns her around and she finds herself lying on her back. The way he towers over her would have been intimidating had it not been extremely hot.

"Came on my cock so fast..." he mumbles cockily, corner of his mouth pulled up like the arrogant bastard he is. "Such a slut for it."

Y/N wants to give him some snappy comeback, but her brain is still fried from the orgasm and she's always liked to be degraded in bed, so she decides to only glare at Harry while he speaks. He catches it, and his grin only widens.

"You know it's true, baby." He tells her, bringing your legs over each of his shoulders. That deviant smirk is the last thing Y/N sees before her eyes roll into the back of her head at the feeling of Harry's cock stretching her out again.

He leans forward, almost folding her in two, and reaches deeper. He stays there for a few seconds—as if he is catching his breath—then slowly backs out of her before slamming right back in. Y/N lets out a screech that, if it hadn't been for the desperation laced in its tone, would've sounded like someone was trying to murder her.

Trying to keep her own moans at a minimum, Y/N closes her eyes and listens to the harsh slaps of Harry's skin against hers, and the groans that escape his mouth with each thrust. The strength behind each movement makes her clench around Harry, who in turn hisses her name as if it were a curse word. It only causes her to clench more. 

"Fuck, such a pretty little whore." Harry praises as he drives into her. Y/N can only whine, her tits bouncing uncontrollably at the impact of his motions. She must look fucking helpless. Opening her eyes, she catches the way Harry looks at her; like she's a dream. Like she's his dream.

"My pretty little whore." He growls, leaning back and holding one of her legs with his arm while the other reaches for her breasts.

"Yes..." Y/N breathes as he begins squeezing her breasts, getting lost in the sensations of him. Somehow it feels like Harry is everywhere. As if he has latched onto a part of her soul and she feels him coming to claim that every time his cock sinks into her.

"Such a tight fucking fit." He groans, taking her nipple between his fingers. "You should see how perfectly your pussy sucks in every inch of my cock..."

Y/N bites her lip as Harry talks, trying not too get too overwhelmed by the filthy things he's telling her as he plunges in and out of her. Her eyes catch the flex of his muscles that occur with every thrust, and she wonders how she got a man so perfect to fuck her stupid like this.

"Should record it... make a little video for just the two of us. What do you think?"

Oh my god.

"Don't you want to see how perfect we fit together?" He taunts, thrusting his hips harsher than before, hitting a spot that had been untouched for quite a while now. Y/N's face scrunches up.

"F—fuck! Yes, yes..." She responds when Harry stills inside of her to await an answer. He chuckles at the apparent hurry in her voice and reaches for—what Y/N assumes to be—his phone, on the bed. His motions are slow and soft, determined to keep Y/N satisfied at least a bit while he logs into his phone and searches for the camera app. She notices the start of his recording by the sudden change of pace and force of his movements.

His camera is pointed right at her pussy as he begins thrusting deep inside of her, and Y/N screams out Harry's name. The concentration on his face as he captures how she takes him proves too much to bear, and she shuts her eyes tightly, head flopping to the side.

She can hear his ragged breathing over all the other sounds that their bodies are making. The small grunts he makes in an effort not to moan too loudly is all she can focus on, and the tension in her belly grows exponentially with each vibrations of his voice that reaches her ears.

Harry slows his pace, putting more emphasis on the impact of his moves. It allows him to bring his free hand down to touch Y/N's clit. Her legs begin to shake the second he does.

"Are you gonna come again for me? I'm so close, baby. I can tell you are too." The softness in the delivery of his words have Y/N's ovaries rattle. She can only nod, a whine that was an attempt at a 'yes' falling from her rosy lips. Harry grins, his eyes flicking from his phone to her face. Everything feels so hazy, much like a daydream.

"Please don't stop." She squeals in such a high pitch that surprises even herself. Y/N had no idea she could go that high. Harry's bringing out an entirely new side of her.

"I'll never stop, baby." Harry rasps, pressing down on her clit in such a way that Y/N becomes cross-eyed for a second. Her nails grip into the bedsheets, the second release rippling through her like a hurricane. She never quite understood the word bliss, until now. This must be it; this feeling of... pure ecstasy.

Like a blank canvas splattered on with all the bright colors that exist in the world; fresh and exciting and psychedelic in a way. Impossible to define yet such a specific feeling. Y/N let all of it tingle from her head down to her toes, wanting to remember it forever.

The continuous pounding Y/N through her orgasm comes to a grinding halt when Harry reaches his own, pulling out just in time for his sperm to coat her puffy clit and swollen tits. His camera is focused on her frame, recording every spurt that paints her. She's the canvas, he's the colors, Y/N realizes. Harry is her definition of bliss.

The words shared between the two are scarce as Harry unties Y/N's hands, picks her up and carries her to the bathroom to clean her up. But the smiles on their faces says enough, both knowing what they feel is rare, and beautiful. Y/N assesses Harry's face, concluding that the soft edges of it makes him look like a proper angel.

When he's dressed her in one of his shirts, he takes her back to the bedroom, where he pulls her against his frame. Y/N wraps one leg around his torso, hugging him from the side with her head buried into his neck. The way his chest rises and lowers fills her with pure ease, and she leaves a few soft kisses in his neck as a silent thank you. Harry only hums in satisfaction, his arm only tightening around you, as if he's afraid you might let go.

"I'm never gonna let you go now." You tell him before you can even fully comprehend your words. Your heart starts racing, afraid that might've been too soon to say.

"Promise?"

Your racing heart is now melting as you turn your head and see Harry holding up his pinky. You are quick to interlock it with your own.

"Promise." You say with a smile.

General taglist: @mema10

[rin-may-1103]

The Disappointment.

This may or may not have multiple parts, depending on whether I feel like writing more. (dcxdp, demon twin au.) also based on some post I read a while ago... can't remember for the life of me who wrote it but if any of you guys do, let me know.

"This way," Mother hissed, snatching Danny's wrist tightly. Damian lagged behind, twisting his head this way and that, keeping an eye out for anyone following them.

"Quick now, we must hurry." She hissed again, her eyes darting back and forth, eyeing the small nicks and scratches she had left previously to lead them away.

Danny glanced back at his brother, watching as he scowled and defiantly lifted his head. His baby brother would die before he allowed anyone to see him defeated.

Glancing back to the path, Danny watched as Mother took down anyone who was in their way, killing without hesitation. As he watched another body hit the floor, Grandfather's muttered words from when he left dinner, ran through the back of his head, "Bring the disappointment to me after sundown. I've seen enough."

There was nowhere in the world they could hide that Grandfather wouldn't follow. They would be hunted for the rest of their short lives, hiding in fear like cowards. Grandfather would not rest until he drew blood.

"In here, Habibi, quiet now. Quickly, both of you." Mother finally let Danny's wrist go, darting across the hall to open the secret door. Danny moved to the side, signaling to Damian that he would keep watch. His brother nodded his head and quickly made his way over, ducking into the small, dark, and eerie corridor.

Mother crouched next to Damian, running her hands over his face like this would be the last time she would see it. knowing her, she probably expected it to be. No one went against their grandfather without severe consequences.

Glancing over his shoulder, Danny studied the shadows; there was a lookout patrol moving closer, which meant they only had a minute before they were discovered. Gritting his teeth, Danny darted across the hall, but instead of joining his mother and brother in the dark corridor, he pushed the wall back, leaving only the missing brick his mother had initially taken out.

"Danyal!" his mother hissed, her voice full of stern panic.

"Apologies Mother, but I can not let you do this," Danny replied, glancing to the side to see how much time he had left. Forty seconds. Crouching down, he picked up the brick and looked back at his mother. Damian stood next to her, his brows furrowed in confusion. Obviously, he hadn't figured out Danny's plan, otherwise he would have started shouting at him.

Mother stared at him for a second, her stern eyes wavering for the first time in Danny's life that he could remember. "Take care of him for me, keep him safe when I can not," Danny asked, grabbing the hood hanging around the back of his neck.

Mother's eyes teared up, but she straightened her back, her black hair framing her pretty face. "You've made up your mind then," she said, her voice low and steady. She rested her hand on Damian's shoulder, giving Danny a nod of understanding. "You are like your father, his love makes him weak."

"But," she continued, kneeling down in a bow, "You are of the demon's blood, it runs in your veins just like mine. Your actions will not be forgotten, nor will they be for nothing. You have my word, tifl alqamar. I love you, Habibi."

Danny nodded his head, unable to voice the thoughts clogging his throat. Instead, he took a silent breath, pulled his hood and mask into place, and shoved the final brick into place. Sealing off his precious family just in time to hear the guards around the corner.

Turning around, Danny silently stalked forward, drawing his shoulders back. The group rounded the corner and stopped, watching him in anticipation. Pitching his voice just slightly to the left and rolling his tongue, Danny spoke in a neutral voice, "take me to grandfather."

The two guards in front shared a look, but the ones in the back straightened up and moved aside. Marching forward, Danny passed the two hesitating guards and with a quick slice, brought them to their knees. He needed this to work, there was no room for mercy, no matter how much he hated it.

"I am the grandson of the demon head, you will respect me as you respect him. there will be no next time." Danny continued walking, pretending to not care if the two managed to follow or not. the remaining guards trailed behind him, silently observing him.

Danny was glad Mother had insisted on them matching today. otherwise, his plan would have failed long before he made it to his grandfather's door.

Stopping in front of the painted carved wood that was grandfather's door, Danny idly studied the carvings and statues around the grand hall. He remembered all the stories of how grandfather had collected them over his lifetime; grand stories of bloodshed and cunning manipulation.

His eyes settled on the one farthest away, with the least interesting story. It was considered ordinary, placed next to art worth billions. But it was Danny's favorite. It was a simple green crystal, carved like a crescent moon.

so simple, yet the most beautiful piece in Danny's opinion. He had always hoped he would die beneath the stars and his ever-faithful friend the moon. Maybe, instead of beneath them, he could die amongst them.

He would take it with him, he decided.

Turning sharply, Danny marched over to the small pedistal and plucked the crystal into his hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he shoved it into a side pocket and returned back to his position.

They only had to wait for another minute before the door opened, grandfather's servants clearing a path for Danny to walk through.

"I see your mother did not drag you away," Grandfather mused, sitting in his large chair. His dark eyes studied Danny's form, taking in the katana on his back, and the hood and mask concealing his face. He was dressed like he would for a mission; no discernable features, no sign of who he was or wasn't. The perfect image of an assassin.

"at least you aren't a coward," Grandfather hummed, standing from his seat. He slowly pulled out his own katana, aiming it at Danny in a challenge. "no, just disappointing. but you are my blood and that earns you the right to die an honorable death. Draw your sword child, and fight like the warrior you are."

Danny bowed like he had been taught, then without another moment of hesitation, drew his sword and lunged.

He wished he could say it was a drawn-out battle of strength and minds, but it was not. for Danny was only ten years old, and his grandfather had hundreds of years of training and discipline behind him.

he gazed up at his grandfather as his knees hit the ground, his katana dropping to the ground as his hand reached up to the sword impaling his chest. Grandfather's eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, contempt for the useless boy he had just sentenced to death.

but his contempt did not bother Danny, no instead it drew a smile to his face. As much as Grandfather lorded his sharp mind over them, he had never been able to stop Danny from surprising him. So, with a burst of adrenaline, Danny allowed the small shuriken he hid in his sleeve to drop to his left hand and buried it deep into his grandfather's chest.

grandfather lunged back, pulling his katana with him, removing the only thing keeping Danny upright. Danny's body hit the ground, and with the last of his strength, he twisted his head so he could listen as his grandfather cried out in anger.

Grandfather's breath was heavy, the sound of him removing the dagger filling the silence. the shuriken was dropped to the ground with a sharp clatter, falling just a few feet from Danny's face.

"you," Grandfather huffed, "aren't such a disappointment after all. I'll grant you one last honor and keep you in the family tomb. Rest now, Damian, you have fought well."

Danny smiled, the cold feeling of blood loss crawling through his body, but not fast enough to block out the pressure of the moon crystal still in his pocket. He hoped Mother had gotten Damian out in time, and he hoped Damian could forgive him for what he had done.

[totalswag]

drew with baby fever drew with baby fever drew with baby fever drew with baby fever drew with baby fe

my little guy ⎯ 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑾 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑬𝒀

authors note i wrote something cute that will make your baby fever drew heart go crazy (mine did too). there's something about drew with kids that makes my heart flutter!! also tiktok is going bye bye tomorrow (gonna miss all my drew and rafe edits)

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary spending time at drew's mom's house and drew being the best dad in the world.

warning(s) a lot of baby fever drew (you’ve been warned)

You awoke at eight in the morning to your six month son, Caleb, babbling on Drew's chest. Drew's enormous hands grip Caleb's small hands to prevent him from falling. Their brief communicate made you grin before you turned over. 

Seeing Drew become a dad is one of the most beautiful and monumental things to experience with your own eyes. Drew is incredibly careful and loving with Caleb. He is meant to be a dad.

"Do you see mommy?" Caleb's gaze is fixed on you, a toothless smile growing in his face, "Can you say good morning?" Drew questions Caleb, as if he understands what he is saying. 

Caleb raises his arms in response, making you quietly chuckle, "Good morning, my handsome little guy!"

"What about me?" Drew mumbles, pretending to be butt hurt⎯what a drama queen.

"Oh and good morning my handsome hunka of a man" you try holding in your laughter but you let it out. Drew looks at you with his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

Never heard you say that before. He thinks to himself.

"What time did you two wake up?" you ask Drew, scooping Caleb to nurse him before he gets fussy. "Thirty minutes ago," he responds, seeing you cradle Caleb in your arms and helping you pull his shirt to nurse him.

Today is going to be a great day. Drew and you will be heading out to Drew's mom house. She wanted everyone to come over to spend some quality family time. Plus, it's been awhile since you've seen Jodie and family with Drew filming and such.

Arriving to the house, you carried Caleb's diaper bag on your shoulder, and Drew held Caleb in his carseat⎯sleeping peacefully away. "Do you think he'll wake up when the door opens?" you ask Drew, gesturing to Caleb.

Drew shrugs his shoulders, "I say it’s fifty fifty with him," he says honestly.

When the front door opens, Jodie is there, beaming and beaming with excitement. She stepped aside, motioned for you guys  to enter with her right hand, and then embraced you warmly.

With her hands on her knees, she leans slightly down and admires Caleb. "It's good to see you both," she squeals, "and seeing my handsome grandson who's sleeping."

Everyone's faces brightened up when they saw you enter the living room. You hugged everyone while Drew was on the other side of the living room.

Drew placed the carseat on the floor, kneeled down, and pulled up the handle and cover, revealing Caleb stirring in his seat. Drew let Caleb to sleep till he awoke.

"How was the drive getting here?" Brooke questioned, leaning against the kitchen counter and sipping her wine.

"Not too bad," Drew responds, "we were stopped in minor traffic."

Caleb is whimpering faintly in the living room, and you notice him wiping his tired eyes. "My sweet boy," you coo as you unbuckle him. "Mama's got you," you shh.

When you go into the kitchen with Caleb putting his head on your chest, looking around, and covering his face when everyone says "hi."

"Why are you being shy bub?" You chuckle lightly before kissing his temple─Caleb places his left hand on your chest, showing his face again─laughter fills the kitchen when he grins randomly.

──

The house became increasingly active throughout the day. You and Jodie talked in the kitchen about Caleb's developmental milestones, such how he was learning to sit up on his own and babbled "da-da" the other day. Meanwhile, Drew and Caleb exchanged moments that made your heart throb from love.

Every got their fair share of being in Calebs presence. It's amazing knowing how loved he is by his loved ones. Basically, he was the life of the show today.

Jodie has a play mat with an arch filled with colorful, textural toys that he can hold and pull. Drew lay on his stomach near Caleb, holding up a brightly colored toy to get his son's attention. "C'mon, buddy. "You can do it," he encouraged softly.

Brooke sits on the edge of the couch, filming the memorable moment. Everyone focused their attention on the two boys on the floor. Jodie and you were wondering what made everyone stop talking in the kitchen.

Caleb gave out a determined grunt, his tiny legs flailing as he attempted to get closer to the toy. Drew celebrated as if Caleb had just scored a touchdown. "That's my boy!"

──

Everyone was seated at the dinner table finishing their food. Caleb took a nap on the couch─it was his nap time and secured without falling off the edge. Drew was already finished with his plate and spent time with Caleb.

Drew sank onto the recliner chair, Caleb nestling in his arms. Caleb was rambling incoherently, his little fingers tracing Drew's facial features. 

"You're telling me all your secrets, huh?" Drew muttered, his voice low and soft. Caleb reacted with a gurgling that sounded disturbingly like laughter, and Drew's entire face brightened up.

Drew's twin.

There are specific things he does that prove he is Drew's son. Caleb was seated in his high chair last week, tasting new foods for the first time. Drew and you were sitting in front, feeding him. Caleb tries the food while squinting and leaning back with wide eyes, similar to Drew's behavior⎯he must've thought you did something.

Caleb was lying on Brooke's chest, gripping her pointer finger, and watching the football game on TV as the night came to an end. He made plenty of sounds whenever a tackle or touchdown happened.

You checked the time on your phone, it was getting late, and you guys needed to head back to the house soon. Drew started getting your belongings together while you started saying your goodbyes.

"It was so nice having you guys over," Jodie says, beaming with both delight and sadness as she watches you settle away. "Love is coming over Jodie," you say, smiling.

After getting home and settling in your pajamas, Drew and you gave Caleb a bath⎯his favorite thing ever. Always kicking and splashing everywhere. Drew carried Caleb in his room nextdoor while you did your skincare.

"I wonder what they're doing" you mumbled to yourself as you washed your hands.

You lingered in the doorway, watching Drew hold Caleb close and sway gently. "Goodnight, buddy," he said softly, his lips caressing Caleb's temple. "You're my everything, you know that?"

You feel a tear fall down your face. The sight caused your throat to knot with emotion. Once again, Drew being such an amazing dad.

You walked into the room and wrapped your arms around Drew from behind. He glances up and places his left hand on your right arm, "Hey, beautiful."

"You're good dad, you know that?" You tell him honestly, burying your face in his neck, thinking how nice he smells.

"And you're good mom, you gave me our son as you carried him so much," he whispers carefully so he won't wake Caleb, "you went through so much, I should be the one complimenting you."

What did you do to deserve someone like him?

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[frost-queen]

Tempting fate (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

The night was out. Chilled but rather comforting on the skin. You were outside, waiting as your sister had already taken the carriage in a haste. Not a few moments ago she had a little encounter with Colin Bridgerton. One that you witnessed from afar. You could tell by your sister’s expression that she was displeased. Distressed to say the least. Once again had Colin Bridgerton said something to upset your sister. It was getting out of hand and you hated him for it. Hating how he toggled with your sister’s feelings.

They had been friends for a while now, but your sister desired more. He was the only good gentleman that gave her attention during the balls. Even if it was just a little. It wasn’t his first slip, but this time you clearly had enough of him. Now that your sister had run off with the carriage, you were left to return home on your own. Waiting for the carriage to return to the estate of this night’s ball would take awfully long.

Rubbing your arms gently, you hesitantly decided what to do. Go or stay? Slightly turning your head you noticed in the corner of your eye a figure approach. Once you fully got a glimpse of him, you rolled your eyes with annoyance. – “Y/n.” – Colin said approaching you. – “Good night Mr. Bridgerton.” – you answered coldly turning your posture away from him. – “Do you not need a chaperone?” – he asked making you stop in your way. With a deep sigh, trying to temper your annoyance down, you turned back to him.

“Certainly not from you.” – you answered with a forced smile. He stared confused at you. Trying to process the meaning of your words. He slightly came closer to you. – “Did…did I say something to offend you?” – he questioned. You scoffed making him furrow his brows dumbfound. Colin and you hadn’t been the closest, yet he considered himself acquainted with you through your sister. – “To my sister you did!” – you bit back finding his act of stupidity tiring.

“Pen?” – Colin. – “I…I don’t understand.” – he answered. – “Why do you minimize my sister?” – you asked him boldly. Colin was taken back by your reply, looking surprised at you. – “Minimize… no, Y/n… I…I wrote to your sister everyday this summer with little reply.” – he said with a charming smile. You smiled in return as Colin flourished from seeing you smile. Yet your smile had other intensions. – “Oh, yes I know all about the letters you wrote her. Letting her know about all your adventures. I am well aware of that Colin!” – you pressured on.

Colin chuckled nervously. – “Are… are you going to make me say it out loud?” – he responded feeling a bit foolish. You quirked your eyebrow up unintrigued.  – “I missed her.” – he told you. You busted out in a laugh. – “You miss her?” – you positioned yourself stronger, fiercer to go up against your sister’s good friend. – “You miss her, but you would never court her is that correct?”

“Y/n I…” – Colin started finally losing a bit of his  boyish foolishness towards you. – “I overheard you!” – you called out. – “At my mama’s ball last season… telling everyone you would never ever court Penelope Featherington.” – You felt yourself get a bit emotional, defending your sister against her best friend. Against the one she loved. Some voices approached as it drew Colin’s attention briefly away from you. – “Bridgerton.” – one of them greeted as they passed. Colin bowed his head to them before leaning a bit closer to you. Lowering his voice he spoke – “Perhaps we should go where there’s somewhere private?” – he suggested.

“Because I embarrass you?” – you said loud enough for anyone walking around to hear. – “My sister can change her entire wardrobe and gain confidence but that would never take away that she is the laughingstock of the ton.” – you outed in anger. – “My sister doesn’t deserve a cruel man like yourself in her life.” – you picked up the hem of your dress. – “Good night Sir!” -  you saluted coldly at him before taking off in the night. Colin watched you leave with a certain guilt eating at him.

Two days later you were with your sisters and mama at a garden event. Your sisters sitting down in a chair underneath a tent, waving themselves some cool. Your mother was chatting with some of the other mother’s. You had no idea where Penelope was. You on the other hand were playing battledores and shuttlecock’s with some of the other season’s participants.

You stood on one side with a girl you were quite familiar with. On the other side were two gentleman. The shuttlecock went high up in the air as the boys knocked it to each other. You were waiting for the shuttlecock to come your way to hit it to her and then back to the boys without it touching the ground.

Somehow your attention got drawn away from the heavens. Seeing Colin Bridgerton clearly look for someone not far from you. – “Miss Y/n!” – one of the men called out as the shuttlecock went your way. Your attention was back as you calculated the moment your battledore hit the shuttlecock. The shuttlecock went up in the air as you thought back of annoying Colin.

The shuttlecock came down once more as you needed to pass it to your companion. Yet you let the shuttlecock come lower, batting it away with your battledore towards Colin. You watched as it hit him in the head. The shuttlecock fell in his hand as he looked down at it confusingly. Rubbing his sore head with the other one. The girl at your side pointed firmly at Colin to go and fetch it. You sighed loud going over to him. The moment Colin noticed you approach, he dropped to a bow. – “My shuttlecock.” – you said offering your hand for him to lay it in.

 “You hit me.” – Colin responded. – “Must have slipped.” – you responded sarcastic. Colin was all but amused. – “Now my shuttlecock.” – you insisted upon. Colin was about to give it to you till he changed his mind last moment. He had taken a deep breath, moving the shuttlecock behind his back. – “I’ll give it back if you allow me to apologise first.” – he started throwing a charming smile at you. – “You should apologise to my sister.” – you made clear not wanting an apology from him.

Colin tensed his jaw, as he had hoped for another outcome. – “I…Y/n.” – he sighed out. – “I don’t require your useless apology. My sister needs to be apologized to.” – you told him clearly. Colin sighed loud getting worked up by your attitude towards him. – “Fine! If you don’t accept my apology, you might not even deserve it.” – he snapped back. – “I don’t even want it!” – you fired back. – “Fine!” – he finished. – “Fine!” – you repeated loud.

“Good luck getting this back than!” – he showed you the shuttlecock again. You slapped your hand at it as Colin had pulled it away in time. – “Give it back!” – you called out to him, getting some attention from bystanders. – “You don’t deserve this.” – he mocked, taunting you by showing you the shuttlecock just out of reach. You groaned annoyed as he moved it behind his back. You knocked into him full force to reach for it behind his back. A bit too forceful perhaps?

Colin stumbled backwards as you fell with him. With a loud oof fell you on him. Now having the full attention of those around you. You were very much aware of the staring eyes. You pushed yourself hard off him. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. – “Eat it!” – you cursed at him storming off. Colin sat up, swallowing nervously at the sudden attention. Getting up, he saw Penelope look his way. He shamefully turned his head away, getting up and taking his leave.

**

Lights were flickering in the warmth of the room. Music filled the room. Dancers were taking in the centre of the room. You stood by the side with your two other sisters and mama. Your gaze went across the room. When your eyes fell upon Colin, you glared at him. He glared back at you, turning his head proudly away. You stubbornly looked away as well. Looking down, you fidgeted on your dress. Somehow it pained you to see him act so coldly towards you.

You didn’t intend on doing so but the more time you spend with Colin, arguing and bickering, the more you felt drawn to him. You shouldn’t be falling for him, but yet you were. Some novels say that you grow more attracted to those things you hate the most with frequency. This might be the case for Mr. Bridgerton and you. Mama nudged you hard making you lift your chin back up. She gestured to you, to smile so you could attract more eligible men.

Not being in the mood for her interfering, you took off. Blending through the crowd to escape her. Pushing yourself through the crowd. Coming to a brief stop, you came face to face with your sister Penelope. Your eyes widened briefly before you rushed off to the hallway to avoid her. Penelope blended with the crowd, lowering her head when she saw Colin near. He was clearly in pursuit of someone.

Almost panting he disappeared through the same door you had left moments ago. It made Penelope think doubtfully. You exhaled loud setting your hands on the desk from the room you had run off to. Clutching your heart, you felt it beat faster. Faster then it normally did. Was this Colin’s doing? Shaking your head you didn’t want to think about him. It was wrong to think of his that way. Your sister was madly in love with him. You couldn’t… not for the sake of her. – “Y/n.” – you jumped back startled at the hearing of your voice.

Colin had entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. You rounded the desk, creating more distance between you and him. – “Shouldn’t you dance with my sister.” – you sarcastically suggested to him. He exhaled soft, practically done with your flight modus. Done with how you kept pushing yourself away and shoving your sister to the front. – “Y/n.” – Colin started as you didn’t want to hear it. – “You keep doing it Colin. You keep minimizing my sister.” – you told him.

“Ignoring every hint she throws at you, and you too blind to see it. I hate how you ridicule my sister’s feelings towards you. She is not some object.” – you ranted out as Colin came nearer, going round the desk to reach you. – “You tell her you miss her, but you won’t court her. Why?” – you asked desperate. – “I can’t court her.” – he answered standing face to face with you.

“Why?” – you repeated wanting to have a clear answer. Colin felt himself be swept up by the heated moment. – “I just can’t.” – he responded loudly feeling his hands tremble to get a hold on you. – “Answer me. Clearly!” – you called out getting up in his face. – “Because I want you!” – Colin shouted back, practically panting from the tension released inside of him. Your eyes widened.

Colin grabbed for your face. The hell with being a gentleman. The hell with your reputation and his. In this moment he just wanted you. He forced himself forwards, pressing his lips on yours. Your gaze widened more at his touch. His lips gently brushing against yours as you fell under his spell. Giving in to the sensation as it was beyond this world.

Butterflies flattering around inside till they suddenly dropped with realisation. Guilt. You pushed Colin off, breaking off the kiss. Colin blinked confused at you breaking it off. Stunned you held your hand before your mouth. As if something was stolen from your lips. A kiss perhaps? – “My sister…” – you whispered out knowing just how much she loved him. – “Y/n…” – Colin said wanting to approach you.

“No!” – you called out clear, taking a step back. – “I…I can’t do this…” – you told him running around the desk. Throwing the door open and taking your leave. Colin went around the desk as well, standing in the door opening. One last attempt to call out to you, but you were out of reach.

Exhaling deep, he lowered his head, heart broken at the loss of touch. He never courted Penelope but he found himself falling for you. Her sister. The sister that yelled at him. That wasn’t afraid to speak back even when some might find it out of turn. He liked how sincere you were, but also caring and free. A bright personality when one got to know you, truly know you.

Penelope bit the sour apple down. A single tear fell down her cheek, yet her face stood bitter. Bitter with hatred for what she had just seen. Her own sister fleeing a room with Colin Bridgerton showing himself in the door opening. It was clear to anyone that you had been in there privately with him.

Penelope made her way to the carriage. Rushing to get home. In the carriage she pulled out a piece of parchment from her reticule. The carriage hobbled yet she maintained balance. Taking out a pencil, she set it down on the parchment.

Dearest gentile reader…

--------------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  [read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

[yanderefarm]

Is dry humping aloud and if it is may I request dry humping Ares while he’s trying to do something like house chores

distracted (with ares)

cw;; nsft, dry humping, stuck in a washing machine

the crazy thing about this is actually that i almost wrote this exact prompt but with thigh fucking a few days ago. it's a little bit silly but I tried my best. won't lie i don't really know how to write dry humping.

you had the day off and usually that meant you and ares would spend the day doing something special. maybe you'd go on a date, do something really romantic, or maybe you'd just spend the day fucking like jackrabbits. but today your coworker had asked to switch shifts last minute so you were home but ares was still diligently at work. today he was doing laundry then cleaning the bedroom, living room, and kitchen. you offered to help but he was pretty particular about how he wanted things done and made it no secret he thought you would get in the way. so you were basically following him around the house like a lost puppy.

he was talking about what you two could do together when he got finished cleaning but you were barely processing a word. you felt like a bad husband because instead of trying to listen to him your eyes were focused on the way his turtleneck clung to his body. his long red hair drew your eyes down his back, red ringlets cascaded over the firm muscles and down to the center of his back. his waist narrowed just a bit before reaching his wide child bearing hips. he was wearing black pants today that perfectly accentuated his pillowy heart shaped ass. further down if you could bare to pry your eyes away from his perfect ass was his thick thighs, thighs that had spent so many nights trying to crush you in their embrace. his pants squeezed into them showing off the way they squished softly before giving way to his firm muscle. he was so beautiful. his body was the perfect amount of strong impressive muscle and the more recent addition of soft fat from living so happily. before his body only really had a little squish mostly in his chest but now he'd grown so soft with love.

you watched as your beautiful wife bent over to reach into the washing machine to pull out your clothes, his soft ass up in the air. you couldn't contain yourself anymore. your hands reached out and gave his ass a nice firm squeeze, your fingers sinking in. ares squeaked in the way he did oh so often when you would get handsy. he tried to lift his head up to look at you but you pressed your hand down against the small of his back. you moved yourself directly behind your lovely wife, your hips lining up with his soft ass.

"wh-what are you.." ares lost his word as your bulge pressed right between his clothed cheeks.

"it looked like you got stuck." you pulled roughly on his hips pressing him further against you.

ares moaned, the sound only slightly muffled by the washing machine. his hands gripped the sides of the opening tightly to prevent himself from actually being pulled out. you placed one hand against the top of the washing machine as your hips rocked forward. ares's body would rock into the machine before you would half heartedly attempt to drag him out. your hips stayed almost glued to his only occasionally thrusting against him.

the sight in front of you was unbelievably sexy, almost like your wife was in a hole in a wall. you could only see everything from his broad shoulders down. his shoulder muscles were flexing with every rocking motion as he tried to keep himself stuck. his ass bounced every time it smacked against your hips. his legs were trembling, thighs burning as he struggled to keep himself up. you let go of his hip to give his jiggling ass a smack which earned you a wet moan. ares was clearly feeling it, his hard cock rubbing against his tight pants until a wet spot formed. the feeling of his ass cupping your bulge had your cock leaking too.

your fingers started to hook into his pants when he suddenly cried out.

"no-!" he did his best to turn his head to look at you. there was hints of tears in his eyes.

"what's wrong honey?" you rubbed your hand along his back.

"wanna go out with you... if we start having sex we won't be able to go on a date." he was clearly pouting.

you finally let go of his body and moved away from him. "sorry... you're just-"

as soon as ares freed himself from the washing machine he threw himself into your arms. "you couldn't resist? it's a little cliche to get stuck in a washing machine but I'll forgive you, honey."

"you're so sexy." you leaned down and gave him a kiss. "my sexy wife got caught in a washing machine."

ares nuzzled against your chest, his finger drawing circles in your skin. "you're so cute... but you should probably just take a shower and wait for me to finish somewhere else. i don't want to be distracted."

[azulhood]

It all started because of a school project, technically two projects, while it wasn't a world ending threat they set of a change reaction that lead to startling discoveries.

Mr Lancer had given the class the task of looking through their pasts and finding an life changing event that helped shape them into the person that were today and writing about that event.

It was a ten page essay (they were allowed to go over that limit) the more details the better and if you had something from that event to show (such as photos or keepsakes or really anything) you were awarded extra credit.

Danny's choice of event was the school field trip to a nearby museum he went on when he was seven, the space exhibit they had was what sparked his love for the stars and kick-started his dreams of being an astronaut.

It wasn't like he had any other choice (he doubted mister Lancer would accept 'my death' as a good life changing event)

He knew that he had photos of the field trip somewhere with all the other photos taken throughout his life, he just had to find them.

And after digging through thousands of boxes and piles of discarded inventions he handled with care (in case they blew up) he found them tucked inside an old photo album covered in green stains that sat on top of a bookshelf.

Opening the book caused all the pictures to fall into his lap, it seems like his parents didn't get around to actually adding them to the book, Danny resigned himself to spending the rest of his day shifting through old photos.

It wasn't all bad though, he found pictures of when Sam still had blonde hair and wore pink and of that time Tucker wrote an 'I love you' on his parents cars with their keys and many other embarrassing photos.

A treasure trove of blackmail material.

He finally found the picture he was looking for.

All of the kids who are now students of Casper high stood in front of an old building each proudly holding up something they bought in the gift shop (Danny had bought a book on planets that had long ago fallen apart)

It was a normal photo.

And yet, something seemed off.

Sam and Tucker were there with him in between them, Dash was there too.

Along with Kwan, Mikey, Paulina, Valerie, and all the others.

And yet, something was missing.

Then it hit him.

Wes wasn't there.

Danny could've sworn that he had been on that trip, but the more he thought about it the less he was sure.

He couldn't actually remember Wes being there and Danny remembered nearly everything about that trip.

'Maybe he was sick or something?' It was the most logical thing he could think of to explain the other absence, that and his parents not wanting him to go for some reason.

Mystery solved he pushed it to the back of his mind , he had an essay to finish.

Still, it stuck with him.

-----------------------------

The next school project Lencer gave them was one with assigned partners.

Danny got Wes who, despite not being Sam or Tucker, was leagues better then Dash and he'd take that as a win.

Wes had insisted on studying at his house so he could, and Danny quotes "Keep an eye on you Fenton"

Danny could practically feel the hidden cameras burning a hole into him while he stood in front of the Weston's door, waiting for him to go ghost for whatever reason.

Jokes on him though, Danny asked all the ghosts to leave him along for this month with the promise of giving them a head start the next time they caused trouble, so really Wes was just wasting his time.

"This way." Wes said already heading inside without caring if Danny followed.

Being the first time he had ever been in Wes's home Danny looked at everything and anything.

It was a fairly normal home, not like Danny's which had an anti-ghost defense system or Sam's super rich house.

But more like Tuckers

One of the things that drew his attention was the pictures that lined the walls.

There were so many.

Some with Wes and his mom, some with just him, some with just his mom, and some with people Danny didn't recognise.

But there were no baby photos.

The only pictures Danny could find of a young Wes seemed to be from when he was eight? Nine?

And nothing before.

'Maybe they were put away in storage' Danny guessed, but it still made his brain itch.

He remembered looking at old school photos and not finding any sign of a young Wes at all, he didn't even remember Wes coming to school any time before the year Danny turned eight.

And in a small town where everyone knew everyone that really wasn't possible.

'Maybe they moved here and lost a lot of stuff' Which would explain a lot, well no harm in asking. "Did you loss a lot when you moved here?"

Wes stopped walking and turned around to give him a look that asked if he was insane. "I've lived here my whole life, Fenton."

Danny froze, that couldn't be right, he'd remember that.

Something was wrong.

---------------------------------

Tim Drake sat in front of the bat computer as the rest of his family patrolled.

He had one monitor displaying the other bats locations while all the other monitors were used to show him files, or rather the lack there of.

Wayne Enterprises had tournaments held for schools and the prize was an all express paid trip to Gotham and tour of WE and surrounding areas, Tim could think of way better prizes that weren't visiting the crime capital of the world but that wasn't the point.

What was the point was that every time there was a winner Tim preformed a routine background check on students and staff (and by routine he means learn their whole live story) just in case anyone happened to be trained assassins set to kill one of them, stranger things have happened.

Wes Weston was one such student whose background Tim had to check.

And he found nothing.

Sure, there were hospital and school documents from age eight and upwards, but other then that nothing.

There was no birth certificate, no evidence of him attending daycare, nothing.

It was as if Wes did not exist before he was eight years old.

And perhaps the most interesting thing.

Amy Weston was listed as Wes's biological mother, DNA even said as much, and yet Amy's medical file said that she had never been pregnant and also had no siblings that could've been Wes's parent.

And yet Wes existed, appearing one day as if he had always been there.

Was it cloning? Aliens? Magic? A changeling? Someone creating false information to hide the truth?

It was a mystery, and mysteries had always been Tim's Kryptonite.

[papyrus-in-practice]

IT'S WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY, FOLKS!!!!

So, I wanted to post something a bit different!

A common prompt I use with my clients is a positive affirmation jar which is a project in which the client decorates a jar and writes positive affirmation on slips of paper to keep in the jar. In the case that I run out of jars, I make boxes out of paper. A couple weeks ago, I had an idea while and that was to fuse this prompt and Superhero Therapy.

Superhero therapy was initially conceptualized as a form of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy that used superheroes or other characters from media to facilitate the acceptance of oneself and one’s emotions and the commitment to move forward. 

Clients engaging in superhero therapy may be prompted to reflect on their own experiences in life and identify a “superhero” they may relate to or look up to. “Superheroes” don’t have to be the cape-wearing people with superhuman abilities. They can be any characters we find in any media. What defines a “superhero” in superhero therapy is a character that you can relate to on some level and one that possesses strength, wisdom, or other traits you admire. 

Especially when diving into the topic of change, clients might be encouraged to imagine: if that “superhero” showed up at the exact moment you needed them the most, what kind of message would they tell you? This prompt takes that part and creates a physical object that can relay those messages when you need it most. 

Basically, what I did is I thought of characters that I felt I could relate to or look up to. These are my “superheroes”, characters that have strength, wisdom, or another trait that I admire. I drew these characters out and collaged them onto a box.

After the box was done, I wrote short lines that each character might say to me during times when I need encouragement the most. I made sure to label each one so I knew who was talking. I'm still adding some messages, so it's almost "done".

Since I tend to need encouragement the most when I’m at work, I put it in my office!

It was a fun project and I wanted to share it with y’all.

Quick disclaimer, this isn’t therapy nor any kind of substitute for therapy. This is more of a project I did to essentially play-test a prompt. Still, I think other folks could benefit from doing it, too. We’ve all got our own self-defeating thoughts rampaging through our brains and, sometimes, we need a reminder from our inspirations to direct us towards our values. Superhero therapy is a lot about naming and recognizing our unhelpful thoughts as thoughts. Then, we make the commitment by pursuing our values through the characters we admire

Characters from left to right:

Toriel(Toby Fox's Undertale)

Papyrus(Toby Fox's Undertale/Papyrus in Practice)

Sans(Toby Fox's Undertale)

Doc(@tehrogueva Therapist!Sans)

Baggs(@megalommi Megalosomnia)

Dream(@jokublog Dreamtale)

Nightmare(@jokublog Dreamtale)

I also wanted to shout out @wishing-stones Rabble and Rampallians since I also felt really connected with their portrayal of Baggs, Dream, and Nightmare!

Luz and Eda(The Owl House by Dana Terrace)

Andromachus(Vampire Therapist by Cyrus Nemati, @littlebatgames)

References: 

Scarlet, J., & Alves, W. (2017). Superhero therapy: Mindfulness skills to help teens and young adults deal with anxiety, depression, and trauma. New Harbinger Publications, Inc.

Washington, K. (2019, April 25). What is Superhero Therapy? Denver Health. October 10, 2024, https://www.denverhealth.org/blog/2019/04/what-is-superhero-therapy

[inmyheaddd]

wake up call - rafe cameron x reader

summary: pranking soft/tired!rafe after a party, by spewing absolute nonsense warnings: maybee slightly ooc rafe?? nothing really wc: 481 a/n: not too sure why i wrote this, i never write for obx 🤔🤔 i think its the drew starkey edits getting to me

“rafe,” you patted his shoulder, “raaaafe,” he didn’t respond to you, only groaning as he turned in his sleep.

it was nearing 3 am now, and you had just gotten back from some party. you had been so exhausted just 30 minutes ago in the car as rafe drove you home, but now sleep seemed to be the last thing on your mind. rafe on the other hand, fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. 

after scrolling on your phone for a little while and seeing a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend, you decided it would be a good idea to do the same to the brunette who was dead asleep next to you.

“it’s super important,” you tapped his shoulder, “rafe. quick, wake up.” you lightly shook his arm as he mumbled incoherently, then turned away from you. 

“rafe, it’s an emergency. the beach broke, i need you to fix it for me.” you added, your voice so full of worry that it made rafe stir around again, this time to face you, with his eyes still closed. “…what?” he muttered as he scrunched his face up in confusion.

“you have to fix it, rafe.” you bit your bottom lip, almost shaking with the laughter you were holding in.

“alright, alright. i’ll do it tomorrow, yeah?” he grumbled as he patted his arm around mindlessly, trying to find you.

“you better, it’s really important.” you thanked god that he couldn’t see the wide smile on your face, contrasting to the dead serious, worried hint your voice took on.

“also, can you buy mars for me?” you almost broke out laughing right then and there at the blabber you were coming up with. “i’ve had my eye on it for a while, y’know? i think it would match that red top i have really well.” 

“sure, whatever you want.” he mumbled languidly as he tried to pulled you closer to him, before his face scrunched up in confusion. 

“baby,” he said, “what the fuck are you talkin’ about?” he blinked his eyes open at you, his eyebrows knitted together. “are you high?”

“nooo, oh my god.” your giggles broke out as you threw your head back, “it was a prank! i’m sorry.” you didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, still laughing uncontrollably at your boyfriends confused, and likely annoyed expression.

he tutted, briefly shaking his head and turning it to the side. you weren’t too sure if you were imagining the tiniest of smiles on his lips or not. “don’t play that stupid shit on me, go back to sleep.” 

your laughter began to fade as he adjusted his position and turned you around, pulling your back flush against his front and wrapping his arms around you. 

“you’re no fun.” you muttered, nonetheless with a smile on your face.

“yeah, i know, baby.” you felt the ghost his lips on your neck, “talking about buying mars and fixing the beach. get some sleep.” 

now, you could practically feel the way his lips turned up on your skin. that was a huge win in your book. 

debating your choices, you wanted to see if you could push his buttons just once more.

“…rafe?”

a sleepy hum.

“if you could though, would you get me mars?”

silence. 

you figured he was asleep, so you took the loss and closed your eyes, but then he finally spoke:

“how much did you fucking drink?”

another a/n: this is a rafe version of the “half asleep” grayson hawthorne fic that i wrote!! (sorry guys im incapable of coming up w something new rn…)

[starkeysbabygirl]

⋆˚࿔ meddle about 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝜗𝜚 rafe cameron x dancer! reader✨

𝜗𝜚 just a little something that popped into my mind about getting face fucked by rafe after seeing this photo of drew — please keep in mind i literally wrote this while at work when i had the down time and i haven’t written ANYTHING in MONTHS!😭🤞🏼it’s rushed and all over the place, not edited☠️ butttttt it’s done now it’s time to hide🫣

𝜗𝜚 cw: throat fucking, nose pinching, slapping, some degradation, i think that’s it?

“rafe! we’re in the dance studio, we can’t…” you gasp in shock.

“shhh, it’ll be okay baby girl. trust me?” rafe presses his index finger to your lips as he whispers in your ear.

you blush and nod your head. that’s all it takes for rafe to take control as he shoves you down to your knees.

you look up at him with innocent eyes, completely lost in how damn good looking rafe was, especially in this moment. he was in jeans and a plaid button up with a few buttons loose showing off his chest. it was such a simple outfit but it drove you wild, wanting and needing rafe in all ways possible.

your eyes wander down, watching as rafe unbuckles his belt and shoves his jeans and boxers down just enough for his pierced cock to spring free, his tip already with precum. his dick was rock hard and throbbing, ready to ravage your throat.

“you’re going to look so god damn pretty with your spit and my cum dripping from that filthy little mouth of yours. don’t ya think?” rafe rasps, gripping your chin and making you look up into his eyes.

“please, rafe. i need you. now, please” you beg. you reach for rafe’s cock but he grips your hand and shoves it behind your back. you huff knowing he just wants full control.

“nuh uh. no hands princess. m’going to fuck your face so hard you’re going to be a blabbering mess when i’m done with you.” rafe smirks.

“oh fuck rafe, need your cock in my mouth, please?!” you practically scream.

“i love it when you beg, such a good little slut f’me. ready to feel my big cock on that sweet, sweet tongue hmm?”

“yes, rafe! yes! give it to me, can’t take it any longer!”

rafe wastes no time as he shoves his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. he thrusts in and out at a brutal pace making you choke on his dick. you try gasping for air but rafe was beyond feral and with one hand he grabs the back of your head forcing your throat deep onto his cock. the other hand lands a harsh slap to your cheek.

“atta girl. just a whore for my cock aren’t ya?” rafe pinches your nose, making it even harder for you to breathe and tilts your head so you can see yourself in the mirror, mouth full of cock. “shit, you’re such a good girl. look at you, you’re making such a mess. doing so fucking well f’me. m’so close already baby girl.” rafe’s groans fill the empty room.

“i just know your pussy is soaked, fuck i can’t wait to get a taste later” you look up, hopeful, and so desperate for rafe to touch you. he winks at you while his cock his slides out and back in.

rafe’s thrusts start to become frantic and sloppy and you know he’s about to cum.

“FUCK! here it comes princess, now swallow it. swallow every single drop like the good fucking slut you are.” rafe thrusts to the hilt and his cock pulses, ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. he slowly starts to pull his dick out but not before you suck on his tip and give it a pop as you back away and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“mmm, wow. rafe, that was…” you begin to say as you get up while watching rafe pull his pants up and buckle his belt.

“fucking fantastic? yeah, it was” rafe says. he grabs you by the waist pulling you into his chest and gives your head a kiss.

“now fucking kiss me on the lips rafe” you demand, getting on your tippy toes.

“whatever my girl wants, she gets.” rafe smashes his lips onto yours. nevermind the fact that your mouth was full of his cock and cum just seconds ago.

tagging some moots: @cameronsprincess @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @oceandriveab @bloodibambiidoll @cameronwillow 🫣

[rinarin-karimel]

Chapter 431 analysis. why everyone drew the wrong conclusions.

When the first spoiler frames from the volume came out, hell on earth began, some shippers rejoiced at the canonization, others cursed Horikoshi. I was initially going to say that all these wishes of dirty things towards the author are very ugly: at first, when 430 came out, the Katsudeku shippers rejoiced, and the Izuochi shippers wrote Horikoshi curses, and now it's the opposite, and I would like to ask him to behave decently. I was also upset by the leaks, not only because I liked the other ships, but also because I never saw Deku's romantic chemistry with Ochako, and I hate the trope "a good girl is in love with the main character, he doesn't think about her, but in the end they get married" BUT then the whole chapter came out. And no. In the finale, there is no Izuocha as a canonization at all. At all. And it’s not about the ships, but about the fact that many people didn’t understand what the author wanted to say. It's just that some have already gotten wound up and drunk from the "canonization", while others have started to wind themselves up with their disappointment and savor it, pulling things onto it that don't actually confirm their disappointment", that is, we have a crowd effect.

At first, without context, only by spoilers (it has already been confirmed that some of them are false), it seemed romantic in itself. That is, out of context, you can see how the hero notices a girl at a party after the timeskip, and can't take his eyes off her

But in the whole chapter, this page followed this.

And Deku doesn't look in love here, he looks... scared.

What moments before this does this page refer to and parallelize? And these? Deku, Tsuyu notice that Ochako is very ill and she hides her pain, and forces herself to smile.

And this is what parallels this image, which is confirmed by the context of the whole chapter from the very beginning: Ochako is in pain.

8 years of pain and abscess and this is referenced in her conversation with Tsuyu before the party Next: Deku runs to Ochako as he ran after the war: to save her, he saw that his friend needed saving and urgently.

Ochako herself. You might think that this frame is a confirmation that she still loves Deku.

But the whole chapter had a completely different context.

She remembers this moment as if out of a desire to remember it and feel it again, as if wanting to deceive herself that it is still like that. Just pay attention to the frames: Ochako is shown alone in the crowd, her gait is unsteady, she remembers things that happened 8 years ago out of nostalgia and most likely her wishes will be deceived, that she still has this feeling, because she feels empty. That's why she remembers her conversation with Izuku in chapter 428: Ochako longs for salvation again.

In some form, she gets this salvation when in her head she pushes herself on behalf of Toga to live on. In some way, there is a romantic subtext here, Uraraka on behalf of Toga tells herself that she should let her go and try to experience something else, she herself feels a romantic subtext here, remembering her feelings, but are they in love with each other at the moment?

VERY, very unlikely And, so as not to accuse me, I'm not even a Togarako shipper, because I don't like Toga.

Then the fandom carried on and everyone was charged by each other: Izuku left Bakugo and did not go with him to the agency. But A) it goes without saying that he always wanted to be on equal terms with Kacchan, and compete on equal terms, so he wants to quickly become an independent hero. B) and this is the most important thing. The car and their conversation in the car, which was not in the Friday spoilers, and most importantly the context of this conversation.

During the discussion between Kirishima, Katsuki and Izuku that Deku did not agree to work with Katsuki in the same agency, Deku looks at the signed card with All Might and smiles softly and thoughtfully. It would seem: Deku is happy for his friend

But the Context. This is the same card that was next to Katsuki when he died, and Izuku saw him dead. And Izuku considered himself guilty of his death, that he was not there to protect him, he did not manage to arrive in time to save him, he allowed Toga to drag him into the portal, he was distracted, he did not save.

Deku considers himself - guilty. And this is exactly what goes in the context of the conversation about Izuku not agreeing to be with him in the same agency, although he himself once wanted it. Izuku still thinks that he is too Guilty to be near Katsuki. Hence his running away from him, which Katsuki reads as if he is no longer needed.

But who is Deku? The one who was told to keep his heart under lock and key in order to be the heir of One for All. The one who suppressed his emotions since childhood, and made others always believe that he was okay.

And no, this doesn't mean that Deku doesn't care about Kacchan and doesn't love him (in what sense it doesn't matter), Deku thinks that Katsuki would be better off without him and doesn't understand at all how much he hurts Katsuki. Deku - hides his pain after all the traumas of the war still behind a smile on his face, and this is exactly what Uraraka does in the same chapter. That is why Izuku immediately notices that something is wrong with her at the party, because he feels the same way. The very context of how he looks at Uraraka, the guys discuss couples and a happy life, but what Deku remembers before turningon Ochaka? Shigaraki and his injury.

About Deku's blushing: when they clash, he probably blushes because of the sexual context, but during the promise to spend more time with Ochako, this is most likely not the case: it's a promise to save her and shame for himself for not noticing that she needed help earlier, as well as some kind of "self-conviction", when a person tries to convince himself of something that he can handle or deceive himself, his face often heats up: after all, Deku can't "save" himself.

That's why he is the one who reads Uraraka's feelings, their traumas are similar. And as a hero who can't stand aside when someone is in trouble, he runs to give her what she needs: help and salvation. This is not a chapter about the canonization of ships, these are the traumas that haunt them already in adulthood and the story about them.