#idk a thought to circle back to if she wants to discuss it further now that the emotional part of it is bled off

[cesium-sheep]

she went off to meditate right after mom finished her call and then she called him in to talk to him and then she came out to talk to me because she was really upset about feeling like she doesn't get a fair share of watching stuff for her not for sharing on the big tv and like she's not even wrong about that neither of them get to use the big tv for their own personal stuff as much as I do, but also she never fucking asks? like he'll ask to watch whatever sports is on or his car videos but she never really says anything. cuz she also doesn't feel like she can ask and honestly there's not a whole lot I can do about that other than Be Smaller which is not a solution.

but like we talked about it, and I tried my best to differentiate when I was upset at the situation and when it was Brain Soup because not none of it was Brain Soup, and to convey why "I don't think you'll like this" does not translate to "you can go do other stuff if you want" because she leaves if she wants without a word all the time and I hate when she does that and I do not want to do things I hate having done to me and I am used to the common space coming with an implicit obligation of participation which I did point out directly towards the end. (I wonder if that's something I'm supposed to keep or if she wants me to get rid of that but didn't want to ask.) and she stuck through the entire conversation even though she's tired and she has work tomorrow and it was her conversation to start with even though it got bogged down in Soup Overflow. even when she walked off she told me where she was going and that she would be back in a minute. (at least I think it only happened the time she communicated well about it? I can't remember for sure.)

and she is right that she deserves to feel like the common space is as much hers as anyone else's, but unfortunately the most accessible solution is "please for the love of christ communicate more directly with me" which I Do Not Control (altho I was able to present a couple bits of like "hey could part of it be a conflation between being assertive and being an asshole" that she was willing to hear me out on) and the totally inaccessible solution that wouldn't even be a problem in the first place if I wasn't this sick/the apartment wasn't this small is just "I shouldn't literally always be in the common area".

so it was. really miserable. cuz she was super mad and some of it was really triggering and I don't have a solution for her that doesn't require her working on her own shit. but hopefully it was still constructive to her. she didn't sound mad at me by the end, and she said when I checked that she felt like her frustration was understood even though we don't have a straightforward solution right now. I did acknowledge that I hadn't provided any comfort during the course of the conversation because I was upset, and that she deserves to feel comfortable and safe and I do want to facilitate that even though it seems like I can't. she held my hand and let me be sad for a bit even though it was her problem, which I need to remember to acknowledge to her directly too. I'll text her so I can't forget. she also said some nice stuff about how yeah she's tired but I'm important (implicitly why she sat through the tedious wrap up bits I have to do in order to put a conversation to rest).

and I know it's been the other way round plenty of times, where I had a problem and had to comfort the other person, but also I know that sucks, and it's important to acknowledge that even if I don't have the energy left to take it on the chin like I used to, even if she decides she's at peace with that.

I also woke him up to let him know we were done and things were okay, and he was nice about it. (he came out in the middle to grab his phone and say goodnight.)

[genericpuff]

alright so this is a post I've been wanting to write up for a little while now, but I was waiting on permission from a third party to post DM's (censored, of course). That permission has since returned with a yes, soooo

LET'S TALK ABOUT RACHEL'S HIRING PROCESSES-

okay this isn't gonna be as comprehensive as I'm making it sound BUT I've mentioned before on this page (albeit briefly and it's long since been buried) that I actually applied to be a background artist for Rachel a couple years ago, I think it was around the midpoint of S2, and it was (obviously) before I turned to the dark side of crit-n-shit-posting. I never got an email back, so that was that. I'd like to think there's a parallel universe out there where instead of joining the antiLO/ULO community, I became an assistant for Rachel and remained a fan. Enjoy that fridge horror thought.

That said, while I didn't get a response, someone on reddit mentioned that they did:

And they were kind enough to share further details with me in DM's.

Right off the bat, I'm fairly certain they were applying to the same ad I was (as it was a posting that Rachel had made on Twiter and the approximate years line up).

All that aside, considering what Rachel's process is like with her assistants (from what we've discussed here in GREAT detail), it's not shocking in the slightest that the vibe of working with Rachel from the very beginning was "IDK what I'm looking for".

Buuut that's not the end of the exchange because it gets better.

Mind you, this was back in 2019 and it was the experience of one user, so it doesn't necessarily reflect every assistant on the team or how Rachel does things down to the last detail. But it's pretty damning enough that you can still see the evidence of this kind of workflow in current LO 4 years later. If anything she's continued to operate with a rapidly declining pipeline because the art just keeps getting worse and worse.

Part me of wants to say that this could be on Webtoons, as they don't offer support to creators to have assistants. Creators have to pay for their assistants completely out of pocket, split from the income they make from Webtoons. This is why so many creators often don't have assistants or their 'assistants' are also their co-creators (see: Nevermore, which is drawn and written by two people working together).

But Rachel has an average of four assistants per episode, sometimes as many as eight in some cases (though it's been a while since that's happened so I won't really count it for this post).

That means Rachel's team is typically made up of five people, including herself, and that's not including the recent addition of copy editors (but that balances out with the times when Amy Kim isn't contributing , she tends to pop in and out).

Now, she's not the only person on WT with a team of this size, there are others with comparable teams if not bigger ones, but NONE of them seem to operate with as much inconsistency as LO does, and that's not on the assistants, that's on Rachel. She's said in interviews that she always wanted to be a director and that making LO on Webtoons was her way of achieving that, but she doesn't seem to have the integrity or leadership skills necessary to take charge when the team isn't working in sync. You don't see any of these insane art art inconsistencies in webtoons like The Kiss Bet or Tower of God (though they have their own problems, the art isn't one of them), and there are webtoons operating without a team at all that are drawing circles around LO right now, like Nevermore (which is, by the way, also edited by Bre Boswell, same as LO).

Now, that's not to say there isn't struggling underneath the surface, the creators of Nevermore have stated how difficult it is to work for Webtoons as it is, especially as creators who don't have assistants. But how is the #1 comic on the platform failing to meet the standards that come with its labels and awards? Why are the exceptionally better comics being drawn by 1-2 people not getting the attention or opportunities they deserve from the platform? And why does Rachel Smythe, one of the highest paid creators on the platform, still seem to struggle with managing a team of artists after five years of publication on Webtoons? Why does she choose to have a large team if she can't pay them adequately? Why have a large team at all if she's not going to utilize their skills properly? To further lighten the load of work onto others?

Really, it just goes to show the lack of care and respect all around - for the self, for the work, and for those who are pushing out the work and meeting the deadlines, whose reputations and potential are being dragged down with the comic itself.

[bhaalbabebardlock]

~ Nature's Gifts ~

Masterpost | All works | AO3 Link

Chapter 6- The Weave

Important tags: Dom!Gale, soft Dom gale, uhh weird astral sex? Idk okay, m/f, please check out other tags on AO3!

Summary:

This chapter is a retelling of Gale's Act 2 romance scene.

“I want to… begin our story. Write our own thousand nights that we turn into a masterpiece. To be with you, in the most intimate way possible, expose myself to you and you to me. To know all of you. What do you say?” She leaned her head back against his chest, tapping her fingers on the cover of the book.

Masterpost | All Works | AO3 Link

Excerpt is below the cut, full chapter is posted on AO3!

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

Chewing on her lip, she bumped his shoulder with hers, her voice soft. He'd been so quiet the last few days, since Elminster had found them. So pensive. He seemed to have pulled into himself, just when she thought they were starting to get closer. Any conversation about the necrotic magic in his chest ended with his silence. She wasn't sure this discussion would go any differently.

“Is it really just the stars that's got you out here looking so mopey all by yourself, Gale?” He sighed, pulling his hands into his lap.

“No, I suppose not.” She studied him while she waited for him to continue. She wasn't one to push, and she knew he would continue when he wanted to. So she took in all the tiny details.

He was beautiful really, in all the painfully human ways Astarion wasn't. All of the little imperfections in his face where there was only smooth marble in Astarion's was one of the things she, possibly, loved the most about him. The reminder of the life he had lived so far. The looming darkness of the humanity they shared between them. She thought about it often. Druids lived long lives. But not forever. Not like Astarion would. And Gale? Even less time.

She swallowed around the pain of that for a moment before returning her gaze to Gale's face.

NSFW Below the Cut!!!

She moved her hands up, threading his dark hair around her fingers to pull his mouth closer to hers, awash with the complex simplicity of the intimacy and magic burning between them. His tongue sliding against hers, the taste of spearmint and parchment filling her mouth. Sparks of sheer pleasure, living electricity, broke out across her flesh as his fingers slid between her legs.

“Ah, you're already so-” he dragged a finger over her lips, grazing it teasingly over her entrance, making slow circles around her clit but not touching it.

“So ready for me. I do enjoy how eager you always are.” Her breath caught, a moan tumbling out of her throat as ran his finger over her clit with just enough pressure to drive her mad, but not enough for her to find any relief. She pressed down against his hand, seeking more contact, only to let out a frustrated groan as he pulled his hand away.

“You know Tav, I do think you could ask for what you want. If you're polite enough, I'll consider giving it to you.” She whined once more, biting her lip as she stared back at him.

“Please?” She pouted, sticking her lip out. He chuckled, grazing a knuckle over her folds again, making her shiver.

“Something tells me you can do better than that. Come on, Octavia. Beg me.”

“Gale, please, I-”

“Ah. Right now, I think it would be more fitting if you called me ‘sir’, don't you? We can take that further… later.” Heat coiled and clenched inside her stomach, between her thighs, her breath catching in her throat. Oh.

“Please, sir, I need you to touch me. I need your fingers in me, on me. I need your cock. Please, please Ga-, sir. Please.” His smile was almost better than everything around them. Adoration and lust and something in his eyes that was just a little darker, a smidge of something deeper shining through as fingers not quite as gentle as usual pressed into her hip, his other hand thrusting a finger up into her unexpectedly.

She cried out from the sudden pressure, the feeling of his fingers curling inside of her as he added another one. She felt everything, the ecstasy of it in every molecule of her being, experiencing pleasure in a way that she had never been able to before.

“Gods, you are so gorgeous like this, when you're coming apart for me.” She whimpered, pressing kisses to his throat as she bucked against his fingers, unable to think outside of the hazy cloud of all consuming heat spiraling through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his hard length settle against her stomach, his thumb brushing over her clit again making stars burst behind her eyelids instead of just in the air. She felt herself clenching around his fingers, burying her face against his neck as she moaned and writhed, riding out wave after wave of ecstatic pleasure.

The Rest of This Chapter on AO3!

Masterpost | All Works

[malfoysstilinski]

hogwarts express | DRACO MALFOY (smut)

Draco Malfoy x Reader (past harry x reader) 

SUMMARY: Draco fucks Y/N to prove a point to Harry who he knows is hiding in the storage compartment above, watching the whole thing. 

REQUESTED: first of all, i absolutely love your writing!!! ok so you know how on the train in sixth year harry was spying on draco in the compartment? what if draco and y/n have sex in front of him while he’s still under the cloak and draco is like “put on a show.” 👀 i’ve been thinking about this nonstop for days @sapphicnoodle69 

WARNINGS: dirty talk, public sex, choking, oral (both receiving), slut shaming, probably more idk 

MASTERLIST

“Hogwarts,” Draco scoffs, a sneering look on his face as he fiddles absentmindedly with his fingers on the table in front of you, “what a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue for another two years.”

You frown from where you’re leaning your head on his shoulder, your senses consumed by Draco. All you can smell is his expensive cologne and the peppermint of his shampoo, the smooth material of his suit’s blazer brushing your cheek as you stare across at Pansy and Blaise. They look equally as confused as you do. Draco hadn’t been the same since his father had been sent to Azkaban, all thanks to Harry Potter, Draco had said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy questions. 

“Let’s just say, I don’t think you’ll see me wasting my time with Charms class next year,” Draco mutters bitterly. 

Blaise snickers lightly and Draco’s eyes snap to him in an instant-- venomous and daring. It’s the kind of cold look that anybody would dread getting from a Malfoy. 

“Amused, Blaise?” Draco sneers, “We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”

You miss the tiny metallic clanging noise from above your heads, and so do Blaise and Pansy from where they’d sending you questioning looks, as if you should know why your boyfriend’s suddenly acting like the four of you haven’t spent the past six years exchanging all your secrets and hanging out at any free moment you may have. 

Draco knows who’s there. Your ex-boyfriend. His enemy. Harry Potter. He pisses Draco off even more with the way he always stares at you. It gives Draco an idea. 

Draco’s gaze flickers down from the storage racks above your heads and back down at you when you finally lift your head from his shoulder. You reach for his hands that are on the table and pull them underneath innocently. You give his hand a squeeze and keep your fingers intertwined on his lap, watching as his shoulders relaxed slightly beside you. 

The rest of the train journey is less tense. Draco doesn’t suggest anything else as solemnly as he had been, and you all talk about your summers. Well, you, Blaise, and Pansy do-- everybody knows Draco definitely did not spend his summer eating the finest food in France like he usually did. 

As you’re listening to Blaise talk about his mother’s latest fiancé, you feel Draco’s hand snake from your hand and drift to your leg. It’s bare beneath your school skirt, the British September weather not yet cold enough for a pair of tights. You know he’s glad that you decided to get changed early. You shiver at his icy fingertips on your thigh, pursing your lips together when he gives it a rather rough squeeze. 

He glides his hand up and down, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he tries to remain as casual as possible, keeping a hard look on his face whilst he stares at Blaise. You’re also trying to appear neutral, cursing your boyfriend for having such a thing for getting off in public. One day you were going to get caught, and that was the day you would also be disowned by your family. 

He keeps you in suspense for the last hour of the train journey. At that point, the dark green panties that you’re wearing are absolutely soaked, sticking to your pussy and even dampening the top of your thighs. His hand hadn’t left your leg once, trailing close to where you desired him the most, where your clit throbbed and pulsated, and then back down closer to your knee to give you a breather. 

Draco Malfoy was a fucking tease and he would be the death of you-- that was for sure. 

Finally, when the train pulled up at the station, everybody starting to climb off of the compartment, but Draco remained sat where he was, also blocking you in from your window seat. As Blaise and Pansy grab their bags and start to head off, they look back at you both in confusion, wondering why you’re not leaving. 

“You two go on,” Draco mutters, running his hand across his jaw. “Y/N and I have something we need to discuss.”

Pansy gives you a sly smirk and a wink before she grabs Blaise’s arm and practically drags him out of the compartment. Your heart is pounding as you watch Draco slide out of his seat once your friends have left the two of you by yourselves, watching as he moves closer to the carriage door, sliding it shut. He pulls the blinds down next. 

“This might be the last time we get the chance to do this,” Draco smirks as he glances back at you. “Stand.”

You do as he says, watching as he grabs his wand out of his pocket and swishes it, all of the other blinds coming down to conceal you from the outside. Your clit is pulsating so hard and you nearly groan out loud as he starts to march closer to you, rubbing your thighs together for some relief. 

Draco’s hand snaps out to grab your neck, fingers gliding down your soft skin before he digs his fingers in slightly, shallowing your breathing. You whimper as his other thumb drags itself down your lip. 

“I know you’ve been desperate for this,” Draco mutters, releasing your neck and undoing his tie, flinging it down onto the table beside you both. “And you’ve been a good girl for me. Parkinson and Zabini didn’t suspect a thing, did they?”

“No,” you breathe in agreement, “they didn’t.”

“I think my good little slut deserves a reward for being so patient,” Draco mutters, tilting your head with his hand on your jaw, leaning down to press wet kisses to your neck, sucking hard below your ear and leaving a hickey behind as you grip his arms, eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Draco...” You pull away from him slightly, finding his silver eyes darker than usual as he stares down at you. “Right here? What if someone comes looking-”

“Colloportus,” he mutters, locking the doors with his wand. “There. We’ll hear if someone tries coming in.”

“And if somebody hears us?”

“Muffliato.” 

That’s enough for you. Especially when Draco’s looking as handsome as he does and when he has that grip on your waist. You know you’re in for a good quickie when he grabs you and whirls you around, forcing you down so that you’re bent over the table that they had just been sat at. 

His hand drifts between your legs where your school skirt has ridden up, exposing your soaked panties. He tuts as he kicks your legs apart with his foot, gliding his lanky fingers up your leg and towards your ass where he lands a harsh smack. You whimper, your hand clasping over your mouth. 

Draco reaches down and dives his hand between your legs, cupping your sex. He pushes your panties to the side and immediately comes into contact with your slick arousal. It coats his fingers and makes him smirk as he glides it between your folds and towards your clit where he rubs circles. When he notices how you’re muffling your moans with your hand, he lands a sharp slap to your clit that makes you jerk unexpectedly against him. 

“If I see you trying to keep quiet one more time then I won’t touch you,” Draco swore, returning to rubbing your clit when you peeled your hand away from your lips. “Good girl. I want to hear those pretty sounds you make.” 

You moan at a mixture of his words and the sensation rippling through your body, your arms stretching out in front of you and trying to grab hold of anything, but there was nothing for you to hold so you simply clawed at the table as Draco drops down onto his knees. 

He whirls you around so that you’re facing him, his face level with your pussy as he yanks your skirt up. He glides your panties down your legs and then thrusts one finger inside your hole, making your breath hitch. You throw your head back, you hands clinging to his bleach blond hair. As another finger slides in, both pumping in and out at a dangerously slow pace, Draco leans his head dow and starts to lick at your clit, looking up at you whilst he did it. 

You moan, bucking your hips. “Draco, please. Please, please. Fuck. Fuck!”

That’s right, Potter. He thinks. This is the closest you’ll ever get to seeing her like this. And it’s all because of me. 

Draco hums against you and wraps his mouth around your entire clit, sucking hard and licking at the same time. It throbs and feels like it’s going to explode, porn-worthy whimpers leaving you as you throw your legs up onto his shoulders, sitting further along the table as he laps up your juices eagerly. 

A third finger slides in and you groan at the stretching sensation as he fucks his fingers into you harder. Your hands move up to palm at your breasts, until Draco grabs your wrist. You huff at the loss of contact. He stands, licking his lip as he pulls his fingers out of you and holds them towards your lips. 

“Suck,” Draco demands and knowing Potter is watching, envying him and wishing that he was the one that had you at his will, makes him smirk harder. 

You respond eagerly, leaning forwards and taking his fingers into your mouth. You look up at him, eyes all wide and innocent that have Draco even harder in his trousers. He swears to Merlin that you’ll be the death of him as your tongue swirls around his digits, licking yourself off of him and cleaning him up. 

“Good fucking slut,” he grows. “Now on your knees. Where you belong.”

You respond quickly, dropping down like he had commanded you to. Without hesitation, you reach for the button and zipper of his trousers, undoing them both. You reach into his underwear and pull his cock out, wetting your lips at the sight. He’s as hard as ever, precum oozing out of the top as he grabs the base of it, smacking your lips with it. 

You half open your mouth, making a moaning sound as he smears it across your lips, leaving his precum behind. Your tongue darts out and you lick it up as he smacks your cheek with it. Your mouth opens wider, sticking your tongue out. Draco thrusts his hips slowly closer, his cock resting in your mouth as you take over, grabbing his shaft and jerking off anything that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

You suck in your cheeks as you bob on his dick, pulling off all of the way to then lick at his tip. Draco’s hand grips your hair like it’s a lifeline, small curses leaving his lips as you take him all the way back in. His tip hits the back of your throat, making your eyes water, but you keep him there for a few second, hearing his breathing grow short at the feeling until you pull him off of you, his cock now covered in your saliva. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Draco mutters, his fingers going beneath your chin and moving with you as you stand up. “And you’re all mine. Nobody else can have you.”

“Mhm,” you moan in agreement as he lays you across the table that you had been at before. “Don’t want anyone else.”

“Not even Potter?” He refers to the boy you’d dated briefly back in fourth year-- the same one that hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you since, even when you were wrapped under Draco’s arm two years later.  

“No, you,” you agree, “Just you. Only you, Draco.”

Draco places runs his tip up and down your folds before he presses it at your entrance, slowly gliding in. You both groan at the sensation. You’d throw your head back if you weren’t already being fucked on the hard surface of the table. Your hands grip the sides beside you, but it doesn’t stop your body jerking as Draco fucks into you hard. 

He’s being rough, clearly trying to prove a point as he watches your body wither beneath him from where he stands at the end of the table. He pushes your skirt back up when it falls down a little, and this time his thumb moves to your clit. Draco smirks when your back arches and you cry out. 

“Draco!” You nearly sob as he slams into you, your soaking heat making sounds that echo across the compartment. “Draco, Draco. Fuck me just like that.”

Draco groans at your words, rubbing your clit harder and slamming in and out of you like it’s his mission. Your walls clench around his cock and have him tilting his head back, a breathy moan leaving his lips as he doesn’t stop his assault on your nub. Everything feels so good-- you can already feel your orgasm coming, thanks to the foreplay earlier as well. 

“You’re so good for me,” Draco growls, glancing down and spitting on your pussy, even though you were already soaked. He rubs it in as he watches his cock drive in and out of your shaking form. “Such a good, pretty, little slut. But just for me.” 

“Just--” You squeeze your eyes shut when Draco hits a certain spot inside you, making you scream out. “Just for you, Draco.”

“Do you hear that Potter?” Draco booms with a laugh, but you don’t process what he’s said at first. “Do you see her? The way she comes undone for me. How she would let me do anything for her?”

You realise what he’s saying after a few seconds and several more powerful thrusts. Your eyes widen, realising that Harry must be snooping around in the compartment-- that was why Draco had been so tense after the small blackout. 

“Draco--”

Draco leans down and hisses against your ear, “Let’s put on a little show for him, shall we, princess?”

You cum. You scream out and throw your head back, the thought of Harry watching Draco fuck the life out of you guiltily filling you with adrenaline and power and even arousal. You claw at Draco’s blazer-covered back as you call out his name, walls clenching around his cock over and over. 

Finally, seconds later, you feel his hips stutter and one last powerful thrust before his cum begins to fill you, hot and fast. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, breathy whimpers leaving your lips as he pulls out of you and yanks your skirt back down whilst you sit up. 

“Petrificus Totalus!” He grabs his wand and shoots the spell at the storage shelves above you. 

You gasp when you hear a thump. You bend down on your knees and pull up the invisibility cloak that Harry had, revealing the boy himself-- paralysed, of course. Draco grabs you and pulls you back, a smirk on his face. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?” Draco spits, grabbing his bag with the hand that isn’t holding you wrist. “Oh, that’s right, she was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin.”

Harry’s seemingly-lifeless eyes just stare back up at the two of you and you gasp when Draco drives his foot down onto Harry’s face, an audible cracking noise filling the compartment. Blood immediately dribbles down his face as Draco releases you to grab the cloak back off the ground. 

“That’s for my father. And stop fucking staring at my girlfriend. I think it might be obvious to you who she prefers now.” He throws the cloak back over Harry, making him invisible again. “Enjoy your ride back to London.”

Draco grabs your hand again and his briefcase and leads you away again, fully satisfied that Potter had learnt his lesson. 

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BELOVED - Part Five (Harry Styles)

a/n: ahh idk why but writing this part took me forever! but its finally here and i can’t wait to see your thoughts on it! i was debating for a long time if part 5 should be the last one, but then i decided to add another part, bc there are two more things i want to include in the story and i couldn’t squeeze them into this part, it’s already the longest so far, so we have one more part left of the story! also, a little warning that part 6 might take a little longer than the prev parts bc im a little behind with my schedule but it’ll try my best!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce, sexual content

word count: 12k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You’ve been feeling like a teenager sneaking around her parents these past weeks. Only that you’re an adult and the parent you are trying to keep your secret romance hidden from is a four year old little girl.

Your birthday was a turning point in your evolving relationship with Harry. Like a wall has been brought down and he finally started reaching out to you. It feels like with every passing day you’re getting closer to him and you can see the progress he’s been making thanks to his therapy sessions and how much he is trying to make a change himself as well.

Stolen kisses and tiny touches have been a usual in your every days whenever Izzy was out of sight for the shortest second. You’ve realized that Harry is an affectionate person, he likes to keep you close and he never fails to bring passion into the tiniest kisses.

With Izzy around 24/7 it’s been hard to find time when it’s just the two of you, but you’ve been waking up early in the morning just to spend that twenty minutes alone with Harry while he drinks his coffee. Sometimes you just sit in silence, trying to wake up for the day ahead of you but sometimes he talks your ears off about anything and everything. In the evening, when Izzy is already sleeping the two of you usually wind off together in the living room or watch a movie in the entertainment room, just enjoying some alone time. It’s not much, but more than nothing and you’ve grown very fond of these little moments with him.

Nothing more has happened than just kissing. Despite the progress Harry has made so far you can tell he still has quite a few conflicts buried deep inside him and you definitely don’t want to rush him into anything he is not ready for. Some cuddling on the couch or short but passionate make out sessions in a corner while Izzy is not paying attention, you haven’t gone further than this.

Now it’s the last day before Izzy leaves to Harry’s mum for the week. He is dropping her off Sunday afternoon and it will leave the two of you alone for seven full days. Well, Harry still has to work during the day, but from the moment he’ll get home, it’s just gonna be you and him.

You had to make a few phone calls so you’ve been locked in your room for a while now. When you come down you find your favorite father-daughter duo on the couch, some kind of Barbie movie playing on the TV, but Izzy is busy with something else. She’s got her water based flooring pens scattered around her, Harry’s tattooed arm laying across her lap as she is coloring the patterns as if it was her favorite coloring book. Before they could notice you, you run back to your room and grab your polaroid camera and returning you snap a picture of the adorable scene. The shutter of the camera makes Harry’s head snap in your way, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Hey,” he softly greets you. You put the camera and the photo aside to the cupboard near you before joining them on the couch.

“Hi Y/N! Look!” Izzy beams happily, pointing at Harry’s ship tattoo that is now fully colored with yellows, pinks and blues.

“It looks better this way,” you smirk down at her before your eyes meet with Harry’s over her head, smiling at you softly.

Making yourself comfortable next to them, you watch Izzy work on more of his tattoos and you find it such a heartwarming scene, you want to remember it forever. Harry Styles, such an influential, successful and serious businessman, sitting on the couch in his loungewear while his daughter is using his tattooed skin as her personal coloring book. He really is a wonderful human being and the best dad to his daughter.

“Y/N, do you have any tattoos?” Izzy asks, turning to you with curious eyes.

“I actually do,” you answer and you see Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You really do?” he asks, his head resting on the back of the couch, turned to face you.

“Yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

“Where?” Izzy asks perking up at the new information.

“Um, it’s right here,” you tell her pointing at the side of your hips, covered with your sweatpants.

“Can I color them?” she asks innocently, but Harry is quick to react.

“Izzy, you’re being a little too nosy,” he warns her as always, and she looks at you with a pouty look.

“It’s fine. Um, yeah, you can color it,” you nod.

Sliding lower on the couch you roll down the waistband of your pants until the tattoo is revealed on the side. You catch Harry’s eyes wander over the skin you are now showing and you can see a slight blush tinting his cheeks. He hasn’t seen this part of your body uncovered yet, he hasn’t even seen you in a bathing suit so far so it’s quite the new thing.

(reference for the tattoo)

The tattoo on your side is a simple yet meaningful one, dedicated to the special bond you and Trevor share. It’s a minimalistic yet beautiful piece of two koi fishes swimming in a circle, one is left blank as while the other one is black so their formation resembles the yin-yang symbol. You got it when you turned twenty, when Trevor was just in middle school, but he promised you he would get the same design when he turns eighteen that will happen in the fall.

“That looks beautiful,” Harry breathes out with a shy smile and you notice how he doesn’t ask about the meaning behind it. Not because he is not curious but because he is insanely respectful and he doesn’t want to ask something that’s too personal.

“Thanks,” you smile at him as Izzy grabs her pens and starts coloring the blank fish.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully, Harry is clearly trying to spend as much time with Izzy as possible before her week with his mother, but you also notice that he seems to be keeping something away from you, like he is trying to bring up something but he is not entirely sure how to start the conversation.

It’s not until Izzy is put to bed that he joins you on the couch, turning to you with a serious expression on his handsome face.

“What’s up?” you ask with a soft chuckle.

“I was thinking…”

“I could see that,” you tease him, giving his knee a playful squeeze. “I’m listening.”

“Actually there are two things I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not sure which one to ask first.” He purses his lips before sighing and moving his eyes to meet your curious gaze. “So we’re gonna be alone for the next week.”

“Mhm.”

“And I thought that… if you want to, but we don’t have to, it was just an idea—so feel free to—“

“Harry,” you cut his stuttering off, moving closer with a reassuring smile. You caress the side of his face and you notice how you lean into your touch, breathing out through his nose. “Don’t be nervous, alright? Just tell me what’s been on your mind.”

“Would you go out on a date with me?” he then asks and it’s the purest thing you’ve ever seen and heard from him. The hopeful but still nervous look in his eyes makes him appear like a little boy who is asking out his first crush in middle school, afraid of rejection, when that’s the last thing he has to think about when it comes to you, but it’s still cute.

“I would love to,” you smile at him and leaning closer you peck his lips softly. “And what’s the other thing you wanted to ask?”

“Well, I’m driving Izzy over to my mum’s early in the morning and I’m staying for lunch and… if you don’t feel like it’s too much, you could… maybe come with us.”

“You want me to meet your mum?” you ask surprised.

“Well, she wants to meet you as well, but I want you to meet her, yes,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Gemma has told her about you and my sister likes to be nosy so she might have added a little spice into the story about us when nothing was really going on.”

“Oh my, what does she think?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry,” he assures you quickly. “She just made it seem like we are… dating and all,” he adds with a nervous smile. “But I told her that it’s… I mean that we are not there… yet.”

“Oh, okay. Well, if you really want me there, I would love to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would love to meet your mum.”

“I was afraid you’d find it a little early for this,” he admits truthfully and you can see that rationality in his thought. “We haven’t really… discussed what we are and I didn’t want to put the pressure on you.”

“Well, do you want to talk about us?” you ask softly, giving him the chance to decline if he feels like the conversation might be a little too much for him.

“I do, but I’m not sure… what to say,” he hums, knitting his eyebrows together. Last time I had this talk I was in my early twenties and I don’t even know how to start,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“Okay, then let’s just agree on some things,” you suggest and he eyes you curiously. “Neither of us is seeing anyone else, right?”

“Is that even a question in my situation?” he snorts, making a joke out of his issues clearly and you’re happy he is able to take it so lighthearted.

“Just clearing the air,” you chuckle. “So we are…exclusive.”

“Seems like it,” he nods.

“And you just asked me out on a date,” you point another detail out.

“I did. And you said yes,” he smiles, an excited shine in his eyes glimmering through his green irises.

“Yeah. So we can say we are dating? Seeing each other?” Harry chews on the terms you offered, tastes them before nodding slowly.

“I guess we could say that.”

“Okay. So… that’s what we are,” you smile at him, giving his knee another squeeze. This time, his hand finds yours and he runs his thumb across your knuckles.

“I think… I’m okay with that,” he breathes out and though it’s seemingly such an insignificant thing, you know how huge steps he has just taken forward.

“I liked the blue one better. With the white sweater,” Heather hums, watching you through the video call. You have your phone propped up on your dresser as you’re trying to figure out what to wear today.

Though you seemed completely unbothered last night when Harry invited you along with them, but now you can feel the slight panic. It’s not even because you and Harry are a thing now, you’d feel this way if you met his mother just as Izzy’s nanny. Grandmothers can be so protective over their grandchildren, you’ve met with quite a few problematic ones while you were working at the daycare and you just want Anne to like you, to trust you with Izzy as much as Harry does.

“Okay, blue it is then,” you sigh, pulling the yellow sundress off of yourself before putting the blue one back with a white sweater.

“So you guys are now official?” Heather grins at you through the screen. “Meeting his mother and all that?”

“Define being official,” you chuckle softly.

“Like, boyfriend-girlfriend?”

“Not yet. But we agreed to be exclusively dating.”

“I still can’t fucking believe that you’re scoring the hottest dad I’ve ever seen. You lucky bitch,” she sighs, sipping on her morning coffee.

“Me neither,” you scoff.

“I’m pretty sure if the mothers who got you fired knew, they would explode. Basically every woman was in love with the man and now you are the lucky woman actually getting him.”

“I guess this is karma for what they did,” you chuckle shrugging. “Alright, I gotta go, because we are leaving soon, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“You better be! I want a detailed essay about how it went!” she grins, kissing the camera.

“Alright, bye!” you smile before ending the call.

When you get downstairs, Harry and Izzy are already down there, Harry is zipping up her bag while she is dancing around humming to herself.

“Baby, your backpack is still in your room. Can you please get it?” Harry asks her, Izzy nods and runs towards you, stopping in front of you.

“Hi Y/N! I like your dress!” she beams at you.

“Hi! Well thank you!” you smile at her before she runs past you up the stairs. “Hey,” you greet Harry and his eyes snap up to you, his pink lips stretching into a warm smile as he leans closer and kisses your cheek sweetly.

“Hi. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. So, any tips for meeting your mum for the first time?” you ask, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. Harry reaches out and takes your hands between his so he stops the motion.

“You don’t need tips. I know my mum will like you, she is already so excited to meet you, so don’t worry.”

“If you say so,” you breathe out.

Harry puts Izzy’s stuff in the Rover and soon buckles her into her seat before the three of you hit the road. Harry has a whole playlist for Izzy’s favorite songs so you obviously listen to that along with Izzy’s performance of all the songs, filled with misheard lyrics, but that’s what makes it even better. The car ride is about three hours, which is not that horrible. You need just one bathroom break sometime in the middle and Izzy sleeps through the last hour in the car, allowing the two of you to finally listen to music that’s not from a kids’ show.

“Do you have a song request?” you smile over at him, scrolling through his phone since it’s the one connected to the car, but he has given you permission to play whatever you like.

“Not really.”

“You don’t have songs you like to listen to in the car?”

“Not specifically. Do you?”

“Oh, I have a whole playlist for songs to blast in the car,” you chuckle.

“Really? And what songs are on it?”

“Well, I can just show you.”

You search up your user on Spotify and find the playlist in talk before putting it on shuffle. As the first song starts to play, you peek over at him to see his reaction and you spot the smirk on his lips.

“Black Eyed Peas?” he asks glancing at you shortly.

“Yeah, you don’t like them?” you smirk at him.

“I do, I just didn’t think you listen to them,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“Are you kidding me? They give me the biggest nostalgia! I listened to them so much as a teenager.”

“So teenage Y/N gave a concert in her bedroom, singing I Gotta Feeling?” he teases you grinning.

“Not just a concert, a whole world tour.”

There’s a short silence, just the two of you listening to the song, you watch the trees and fields rush by you as you drive down the country road. The song changes to another one and you’ve already forgotten about what you talked about, but apparently not Harry.

“What were you like as a teenager?” he asks. You turn to face him and your eyes meet for a second.

“Um, like a normal teenager,” you shrug, not sure what to say.

“There’s no such thing as a normal teenager,” Harry smiles. “What did you do, what were your favorite things?”

“I was… pretty plain, if I might say. I wasn’t a rebel or too much of a geek either. I had like three good friends, we used to hang out a lot by the little lake near our neighborhood, that was like our spot. I liked going on hikes and I watched a lot of documentaries,” you admit with a small smile.

“What kind?”

“I don’t know, anything that was on,” you shrug. “My mom had this phase where she was trying to act like she was just like all the other mom’s from my school, but they were all at least a decade older than her. She was trying to prove that she was this mature, very serious woman who had her shit together and all that.”

“And she didn’t?” Harry asks peeking at you shortly.

“I mean, she did. She turned thirty when I was twelve. Most women barely just got married and started their family at that age but she had been married for eight years and had a middle schooler and a baby already. She really was mature but I could tell that she felt like she lost her twenties because of… me.”

Sighing you think back to the years when you often felt like a burden to your mom. She gave up a lot of things just to give you the life she imagined for you. She worked her ass off to raise you and later Trevor as well, have a career and do all the works around the house. Your dad was working a lot of night shifts, there were entire weeks when you barely even saw him. You don’t blame him, he was trying to provide for his family, but it’s pretty clear he and your mother grew cold over the years and it had a huge part in it.

“Do you… blame yourself for it?” Harry asks softly.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not like I had anything to do with being born,” you chuckle. “I just didn’t like seeing my mom struggle so much. So when Trevor was born I was trying to take over a lot of tasks around the house and with him as well. I babysat him a lot, took care of him in the mornings, I picked him up from daycare and later from school… I tried to make it easier for my parents.”

“So this is why you grew so close with him?”

“I guess so,” you nod. “I mean, I surely spent the most time with him,” you add with a short chuckle.

“And do you think this is why you’re so good with kids?”

“What is this, a therapy session?” you ask arching an eyebrow at him, but he just rolls his eyes.

“Just… trying to get to know you. Is that a problem?”

“No, I just… I’m not used to talking about myself so much. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been in this… talking stage,” you admit with a sigh. “But to answer your question, it might have had some impact on me. I mean, I loved taking care of Trevor. It’s like I had my own baby doll, only that it wasn’t just a toy, it was a real baby I could play with.”

“Did you play dress up with him?” Harry smirks at you.

“I did,” you admit laughing. “I used to dress him as a princess a lot and he seemed to like it! My dad wasn’t really a fan of it.”

For the rest of the ride you listen to your playlist and talk about not just your but Harry’s past too. He tells you about his friends, what he was like in school and the mischiefs he did growing up, that drove his mum crazy sometimes. As you get to his hometown and he points out different places he used to go to when he was younger, you feel so much closer to him, like you’ve just gotten to see another piece of him that was hidden before.

He pulls up to the driveway of a simple townhouse and as you get out of the car you see the front door open and a woman rushes out, squealing in excitement as she runs up to Harry and hugs him tightly.

“Finally! I was starting to get worried!” she breathes out, rocking the two of them to left and right.

“Mum, don’t be dramatic. I texted you when we left and we got here perfectly in time,” Harry chuckles, holding his mum tight.

“You barely just arrived and you’re already picking on me? Typical,” Anne rolls her eyes, letting go of him. You round the car, feeling nervous to meet her. When her eyes finally fall on you, her smile grows even wider as she takes a step closer to you. “And you must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you!” she beams, pulling you into a warm hug as well.

“Nice to meet you too,” you chuckle, hugging her back.

“I’m Anne, but I listen to all versions of mum and grandma,” she tells you chuckling.

“Alright, noted,” you nod smiling.

Harry opens the car door of the backseat and unbuckles Izzy who has already woken up from her little nap and the moment her feet are on the ground she runs up to Anne.

“Grams!” She giggles before throwing herself into Anne’s arms who picks her up happily.

“Hi baby, you grew so much! I missed you!” she sighs as the little girl cuddles into her neck.

“Missed you too, Grams. I brought my new toys, do you want to play with them?”

“Of course! We’ll have all the time to play this week,” Anne smiles down at her. “Alright, come on in. Lunch is almost ready.”

Harry grabs Izzy’s things from the car and you all head inside. The house smells good from the cooking food in the kitchen and it’s such a cozy home, you can definitely see Harry growing up here. Above the fireplace in the living room there are a bunch of photos framed on the wall, most of them are from Harry and Gemma, but there are some more of other relatives as well, cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. It seems like Harry has a big family.

Harry unpacks Izzy’s stuff in her room that used to be Gemma’s apparently, he is telling Anne all about everything she needs to know about Izzy’s routines and she is listening patiently, though you’re sure she is more than capable of taking care of her. After all, she raised two amazing children already.

While Izzy shows Anne all her toys she’s brought with herself, Harry takes your hand and pulls you out of the room just to go into another one. Walking in you immediately realize that it must have been his once upon a time.

“You know, I can see your younger version in here, the one I saw in the photos downstairs,” you smirk at him, looking around. There are some old posters and pictures still littering the walls, stickers are covering the side of his wardrobe and dresser, some of them are partially ripped off already, he probably tried to get rid of them once he got older, but miserably failed.

“Yeah? I was pretty cute, right?” he smirks, so full of himself.

“I liked the curly Justin Bieber hairstyle,” you tease him and he gives you an “are you for real?!” look to which you just start laughing.

“Justin Bieber had nothing on me.”

“Yeah, sure,” you laugh before he grabs your hand and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “Your mum is in the next room,” you whisper against his lips as he leans down, teasing you with them just lingering on yours.

“So what? You never sneaked around your parents before?” he smirks down at you.

“I did,” you admit.

“Oh, nasty,” he comments before finally kissing you. However it doesn’t last long, because you hear footsteps coming from outside so you’re quick to move away from each other, just in time when Anne walks in.

“Lunch will be ready in a few, would you two mind setting the table?” she smiles, oblivious what was happening just a moment ago.

“Sure,” Harry nods, rubbing his nose as his other hand finds your waist and he ushers you out of the room.

Izzy helps Anne in the kitchen while you and Harry take care of the table. When everything is done you all sit down and start the feast Anne was so kind to make for you. It doesn’t take long to see the snickering but loving dynamic between Harry and his mother. Anne likes to pick on her son, call him out for basically anything and though Harry talks back, he mostly just lets her tear him to pieces. With love, of course.

“Izzy, please don’t get whipped cream all over the place!” Harry sighs when it’s time for dessert. Anne has made apple pie, one of Izzy’s favorites and she is going generous with the cream on top of her slice.

“You didn’t have problem getting cream all over you when we were making cupcakes, daddy!” Izzy sasses back, making both you and Harry drop your jaws while Anne starts laughing at her boldness.

“That was an entirely different situation, Izzy,” Harry shakes his head as he helps her with the scream before passing it over to you.

“Grams, you should have been there! Daddy, Y/N and I made a mess in the kitchen, but daddy started it!” Izzy giggles, digging into the pie.

“Is that so?” Anne smirks.

“We were just… playing,” Harry explains.

“Oh, I know how you can get when you’re just playing,” Anne chuckles. “Y/N, how do you put up with two kids in the house?”

“I used to deal with fifteen at the same time, so two is not a trouble,” you smirk at Harry who just rolls his eyes, but you see the hiding little smile on his lips.

After lunch Izzy insists on showing you the dollhouse Anne has set up for her in the backyard while Harry helps his mum with the cleaning up.

“We both know your sister likes to exaggerate stories, so I didn’t believe everything she said about you and Y/N,” Anne speaks up as she is washing the dishes and Harry is on drying duty.

“I’m glad you don’t fall for Gemma’s vivid imagination.”

“But there’s one thing she got right.”

“And what would that be?” Anne turns the tap off as she faces Harry, sighing in relief as she smiles at him.

“That you look happy.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but then just closes it. He does feel happy, even if he is still struggling to accept it. Anne dries her hands and reaching up she cups Harry’s face in her palms.

“Baby, I haven’t seen you like this for a long time. And I know you think you don’t deserve to feel this way, but you do. And Y/N makes you happy, clearly.”

“Mum…”

“No, honey, just… listen to me, okay?” she asks and he nods, giving all his attention to his mother. “It broke my heart to see you so… lost after what happened to Maggie. And I know that it was the hardest thing you ever had to go through, but you need to move on. She would want you to do the same thing.”

“How do you know, mum? You didn’t even like Maggie when I first brought her home,” Harry points out mumbling under his breath.

“That doesn’t change the way you felt about her. I know you loved her and I would have never wanted anything to happen to her. She made you happy and that’s all that mattered to me,” she smiles with a tired sigh. “And I just want you to be happy again. Whatever you two have going on… don’t let go of it, alright? She is making you happy and you deserve that.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say so he just nods before Anne pulls him into a tight, motherly hug that he returns gladly.

“I’m trying, mum. I’m trying,” he whispers into her hair, giving her a squeeze before letting go of her.

You stay a little longer, Anne makes you tea and Harry soaks in the last minutes with Izzy before he is forced to be away from her. You know he is looking forward to spending some time away from his daddy duties, but it’s clear that he’ll miss her terribly too.

“Alright, baby. Be good and I’ll call Grams to talk to you every day, okay?” Harry tells her, giving her one last hug. Izzy wraps her arms around his neck tightly, her face squished into his neck.

“Okay, daddy. I love you,” she mumbles with a pouty look.

“I love you too. Have a good time with Grams.”

“Thank you for everything, Anne,” you tell her, giving her a quick hug.

“Oh, you’re welcome. It was so nice to meet you,” she smiles, feeling a little touched by the goodbye. “Come back soon!”

“I will, thank you.” “Bye mum, call me if anything comes up,” Harry tells her, hugging her as well.

“We’ll be alright, don’t worry. Tell Mitch and Sarah that I wish them the best!” Anne smiles as you and Harry head out the door.

“I will! Bye!”

Izzy stands at the front door with Anne, waving after you as Harry backs out of the driveway and eventually, they are out of your sight.

Harry falls silent and you don’t have to be a genius to know that he is already missing Izzy. You can imagine what it feels like to not see her every day like he always does, when he is so used to having her around all the time.

“You alright?” you softly ask, giving his arm a short squeeze.

“Yeah, it’s just… It’s the third time I’m doing this, but it never gets easier. The first year we did it I ended up driving up here four times that week,” he admits with a chuckle.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal to miss her.”

“I know, it just makes me emotional,” he admits, flashing you a short smile before he turns his gaze back at the road ahead of him.

The drive back home is a lot quieter than the way to Anne’s. You play some music again and Harry hums to it sometimes, but he is mostly just deep in his thoughts and you don’t want to bother him, knowing well he probably needs some time to settle with the thought of an entire week without Izzy.

You get some takeout for dinner before arriving home and eat together before putting on a movie to watch in the entertainment room. One movie turns into another and before you could realize it, you’re dosed off on the comfy couch, cuddled to Harry’s side near midnight.

When you wake up something entirely different is playing on the screen since the original movie has ended long ago. Harry is passed out, his head resting against the back of the couch, one arm curled around your shoulders while the other is resting on his stomach. Rubbing your eyes you check the time and decide it’s better if you both just go to bed before you end up spending the night on the couch.

“Hey… H,” you softly caress his cheek before you brush his unruly curls back from his forehead. He scrunches his nose adorably before his eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings. “We fell asleep. Why don’t we call it a night?” you ask in a soft whisper. Harry sighs, nodding his head, squeezing you to his side before his arm falls from around your shoulders. You peck his cheek before pushing yourself up from the couch. He shuts the TV off and the two of you head upstairs. For your surprise, his hand finds yours on the way up the stairs, lacing his fingers together with yours.

You pad your way up to the second floor and walking past Izzy’s room Harry stops for just a heartbeat before he follows you down the hallway. When you’re about to let go of his hand to head into your own bedroom, Harry pulls you back gently, making you look at him with slight confusion.

“Do you… Maybe you could… sleep at mine, if you want to? Just a thought…” he breathes out, clearly nervous to speak what’s been on his mind.

“I would love to, but only if you’re sure about it.”

“I’m sure. It would be nice to… wake up next to you,” he adds with a shy smile and you notice how he didn’t say waking up next to anyone, he wants you to be there.

“Alright. Why don’t we both just go and shower separately and then I’ll come back to yours?” you offer, giving his hand a squeeze. Harry nods and leaning down he places a chaste kiss to your lips before letting go of your hand, going your separate ways.

After doing your usual nighttime routine you put on a pair of soft pajama pants and a simple shirt before heading back to Harry’s bedroom. The door is slightly open, the lights are still on. You knock on the door before pushing it open carefully. You’ve only been in here a handful of times and it’s strange to come here with the intention of staying.

Harry is standing by his dresser in a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, his hair is slightly damp from his shower. As his eyes fall on your figure a small smile tugs on his lips before he glances towards the bed.

“Which… which side do you like sleeping on?” he asks and you can’t hold back a chuckle as you walk to the side that’s clearly not used by him usually.

Harry huffs with a smile before going to his side. You put your phone to the nightstand before getting under the covers, making yourself comfortable in Harry’s silky sheets. He sits to the edge of the bed, checks something on his phone before dropping it to his nightstand and he then joins you under the covers.

It’s a tiny bit awkward at first, neither of you really finding your place in such a new situation, so at first you just lie on your sides facing each other. Harry is clearly about to say something, he is just looking for the right words, so you give him all the time he needs.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he softly speaks up. “Not just because… I would be awfully lonely now without Izzy,” he adds with a cheeky chuckle. “I meant it generally. I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be here too. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you smile at him. Breathing out through his nose he closes his eyes for a few seconds before his green irises meet yours again. Leaning closer he kisses you softly, just another way to tell you the same thing he just said with his words a moment ago. Pulling back he settles his head on the pillow and he pulls you into his arms, making you cuddle to his side similar to the way you fell asleep on the couch earlier.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Good night, Harry,” you hum back, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his strong arms.

Harry grumbles lowly when his phone’s alarm goes off in the morning. He might be off from his daddy duties this week, but he is still the CEO of his company and work is calling his name. Sometime during the night the two of you got tangled up in each other. Unlike last night, now Harry is the one snuggled up to you, his heavy arm lying across your stomach, his legs mingled with yours under the sheets as you gently scratch his scalp with one hand, running the other up and down his arm across your stomach. You’re not gonna lie, waking up in a bed with Harry is far more blissful and satisfying than you imagined. Even early in the morning he has such an aura that sweeps you off your feet, the man was surely crafted by the gods.

“You’re gonna be late,” you hum, eyes still closed when he hits the snooze button and snuggles back to you.

“It’s set to when I have to get Izzy ready. We still have some time,” he mumbles against the fabric of your shirt.

You stay in bed a little longer until it really is time to get up. Harry’s morning form is so soft yet still breathtaking, even with his hair tousled and his puffy eyes, he still looks gorgeous and you find it slightly unfair how little effort the man needs to be this perfect.

Harry heads to take a shower and in the meantime you decide to start making breakfast while the coffee is brewing.

“Oh you shouldn’t have,” Harry breathes out with a thankful smile when he arrives downstairs and sees the almost ready breakfast and the smell of coffee hits his nose.

“I have all the time in the world this week,” you chuckle as you fill a plate with eggs and veggies before you slide it over to him on the kitchen island. You fix a plate for yourself as well and join him on the stool beside him.

“So… are you still up for the date?” Harry asks shyly, glancing over at you.

“Didn’t really change my mind since yesterday,” you chuckle.

“Would you be up to do it today?”

“So, eager, huh?” you tease him, nudging him with your shoulder and he just shyly shrugs, trying to push down his smile. “Today works fine for me. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m not ruining the surprise,” he smirks at you, sipping on his coffee.

“Alright, then just tell me the dress code.”

“Wear that lilac dress you wore to that birthday party the other week.”

You know exactly what dress he is talking about, but it stuns you that he actually remembers what you wore two weeks ago. He only saw you for a few minutes before you left, yet he still remembered the dress.

“Alright,” you smile to yourself before turning back to your breakfast.

Though you have a few extra sessions booked for the week, your Monday stayed empty and without Izzy roaming around the house you have to realize that you can easily get bored without her. You got so used to being with her all day long that now being home on your own is so weird.

You spend the first half of the day lounging at the pool, something you’ve been dying to do, but you were too busy with a certain little girl. Then you have a nice lunch and after reading the book you’ve been putting away for weeks, you realize that you’ve run out of things to do. So you text Trevor if he wants a ride home after school and of course he does, so after fixing yourself up you drive down to his school.

“Hi there, how was your day?” you ask when he sits into the car, throwing his backpack to the backseat before he buckles himself up as you back out of the parking spot.

“Fantastic, as always!” he fake cheers, making you laugh.

“Want to get ice-cream?”

“You know I always want ice-cream,” he snorts smirking at you.

You haven’t met Trevor ever since things become kind of… romantic between you and Harry, and you didn’t want to tell him over the phone, so now is the perfect time to break him the news. When the two of you are sitting on the terrace of your favorite ice-cream place, your paper cup filled with chocolate and strawberry ice-cream while he chose mango and cookie dough, you finally start the conversation.

“So, I have news for you.”

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, closing his eyes for a second. “Are you leaving the country?”

“What? No! Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, but last time you said you had news for me you moved out from home. Figured it might be something similar,” he shrugs, returning to his ice-cream.

“Well, no, I’m not leaving the country.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“I’m kind of… dating Harry. You know, my boss.” You have no idea why you felt the need to add the last part when he has already met him, but you feel a bit nervous. Trevor is like your best friend and he had a bad feeling about Keith when you started dating him, but you ignored it. If he has a similar feeling about Harry now, you are definitely considering them this time.

“Oh!” his eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean kind of?”

“Well, we haven’t had our first date yet, it’s happening tonight, but things have… changed.”

“So you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” you chuckle nervously. “We kissed. A few times and… we talked about where it’s heading and we both think it’s going to turn into something… more serious.”

“That’s great!” he smiles at you and it seems completely genuine. “See, I told you it’s gonna happen sooner or later,” he smirks coyly, before he licks his spoon off.

“You were just drawing random assumptions because of his looks and wealth, Trevor. But it’s not about that.”

“Oh, I know you’re not a gold digger,” he teases you, making you roll your eyes at him. “So your first date is tonight? What are you guys doing?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me,” you shrug with a small smile.

“Mysterious,” Trevor wiggles his eyebrows at you. “So he is finally ready to get back on the dating scene, huh?”

“Um, he is working on it. It’s a little hard for him, but he’s been changing for the better.” “That’s great. I’m happy for you,” he smiles at you. “Really, you deserve it after that asshole.”

“Yeah, I hope it’ll go well,” you smile back at him with a sigh before you return to your ice-cream.

After dropping Trevor off at one of his friends you head back home. For your surprise, Harry’s car is already parked on the driveway with another one that doesn’t belong to him when you pull up and walking in you find him with Niall in the kitchen.

“Oh, hi boys!” you greet them.

“Y/N! You are stunning as always!” Niall beams, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

“Thanks,” you chuckle patting his back. “What are you guys up to?”

They share a look and it tells you right away you are not supposed to know whatever they were talking about so you just nod smiling.

“Alright, got it,” you chuckle.

“How was your day?” Harry asks, hoping to change the subject smoothly.

“Great! Met with Trevor, just dropped him off.”

“Oh, how is he doing?”

“He is fine, struggling a little with math lately, but he is doing great,” you chuckle.

“So you have a brother. Do you happen to have a sister, maybe?” Niall asks with a coy smile and while Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, you can’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, no,” you tell him the bad news. “But… I have a good friend and I think you’d like her.”

“A friend? Do you have a picture of her?” Niall beams, already excited about it. Pulling your phone out you show him a picture of you and Heather so he can have a good look at her. You actually think that Heather and Niall would be a good match, she might even be the girl Niall would give up his bachelor life finally.

“When are we having a double date?” he simply asks, making you and Harry laugh at the same time.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” You let the boys finish whatever they were doing before you arrived so you go to your room, unwinding a little before you have to start getting ready for the date. Around five there’s a soft knock on your door and as you call out, Harry pops his head inside.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously as the rest of his body walks into your sight.

“Hi!” you smile back, putting your book to the side.

“I just realized I never told you the time when you should be ready tonight,” he chuckles nervously. “Is six good for you?”

“Yeah, that’s great.”

“Alright. Then… see you soon, I guess,” he smiles nodding before he walks out of your room. You can’t help a small chuckle at how nervous he seems about tonight, as if he wasn’t still sure about your feelings for him, when you’ve made it clearer than daylight.

You get the best kind of jitters while getting ready for the date. It’s like you’re in high school again and your crush has finally asked you out so you want to look your best. Since Harry already suggested you what to wear, you don’t have to spend an hour standing in your closet, trying to find the right choice. For the makeup you go for a little smokey look and you do a loose bun styles for your hair, remembering the words your mother always told you when you were a teenager.

“A woman’s greatest and most secret weapon is her neck. Men go crazy if you show them your neck and they don’t even realize it!”

You spray some perfume on yourself and put on a pair of nude heels before packing your necessities into a purse that matches your outfit. You finish with everything just in time, a soft knock signaling that Harry has returned. Checking yourself one last time in the mirror you open the door and reveal him standing at the door, wearing a pair of fitted purple dress pants with a crispy shirt on, matching your dress perfectly. And the cherry on top is the bouquet of red roses in his hands.

“Hi,” he breathes out with a nervous smile and his gaze travels down your figure, a blush tinting his cheeks.

“Hi!”

“You look… beautiful,” he smiles shyly and your heart is fluttering in your chest. It’s really happening, you are going on a date with Harry!

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly.

“These are for you. I know it’s weird that I’m picking you up from your bedroom and I’m not giving you this at the front door, but…” he chuckles as he hands you the flowers.

“It’s really nice, thank you,” you smile, taking the flowers before moving into the bedroom to put them in a vase quickly. Harry takes just about two steps into the room and stops with his hands hidden in his pockets as he eyes every movement of yours before you finish with the flowers and let him know that you’re ready to do. He holds out his hand and you take it gladly as you head out of the house.

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, not even when you try to annoy him and bully him into finally hinting something, but you should have known that he wouldn’t break. He has a four year old daughter who is constantly bugging him, he has endless patience.

When he parks down in front of a modern apartment complex you kind of get really confused, because nothing around seems like the location you’d choose for a date.

“Are you gonna kidnap me and keep me hostage in one of the apartments here?” you ask him with narrowed eyes as the two of you head inside, taking the elevator up.

“It’s not kidnapping, you came willingly,” he smirks down at you.

“That I did.”

When you’re at one of the apartments you are really lost about what he had planned and he finally breaks your suffering and tells you what’s gonna happen as he keys the two of you into the apartment.

“This is Niall’s place, he let us use it tonight. My mum always says that cooking together is a good first date, because food brings people together and you can easily get to know each other,” he explains as you walk into the modern, but definitely very manly home. “I didn’t want to do it at home, because we are always there, so… Niall was nice enough to lend us his place for our date.”

You see that there are two full grocery bags on the kitchen counter and the table is already set for two, you wonder if Harry was here earlier, or Niall did the work for him. Either way, it’s such a thoughtful gesture and a perfect first date.

“Where is he tonight?” you ask with a small smile.

“He is visiting his mother, for a change,” Harry chuckles, knowing well you thought he would be out with a woman probably. “He said he won’t be back until later tomorrow so we can even sleep here, but I thought it would be better if we went home.”

“So what are we making?” you ask curiously as you peek into one of the grocery bags.

“We are going to attempt to make gnocchi with some killer tomato sauce. And brownies for dessert,” he adds with a small smile.

“That sounds great, what can I help with?”

“Let me just quickly pack everything out and then we have to peel the potatoes, yeah?”

“Alright,” you nod, your gaze wandering over to the spacious living room. “Can I look around?”

“Sure,” he nods while he is already elbows deep in one of the bags.

Niall’s place looks like it came right off the pages of an interior design magazine, the furnishing is modern and more on the dark color range, but not too much to make it appear depressing. Right next to his huge TV there’s a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books mostly about music and art and you realize you don’t even know what Niall does for a living. It just never came up between his heavy flirting sessions.

“I never asked, but what does Niall do?” you ask calling out to Harry.

“Oh, he is a freelancer music producer. Tried to offer him a permanent spot at my company, but he prefers his freedom, like with everything else in his life,” he chuckles. “But he is a good one, we used to make music together when we were younger.”

Just as he says that, you spot a picture of the two of them on the shelves and your lips part in a bit of a shock when you realize that Harry used to have long hair. Leaning closer you inspect the photo better and you feel like you’re looking at two entirely different people. Niall’s hair was bleached blonde which is already enough to make him like another version of himself, but Harry is definitely the biggest shocker. He was rocking some loose shirt with the top buttons left undone, his necklace with the cross pendant peeking out and though the photo ends somewhere above his knees, you can tell that he is wearing skinny jeans, something you never thought you would ever see him in.

“You had long hair?” you ask joining him in the kitchen. Harry’s eyes shoot up to him, then he looks in the direction of the living room, a smile tugging on his lips as he probably remembers what photo you must have just seen.

“Uh, yeah. Yes I did, when I was about 21 or 22.”

“I could hardly believe that was you in the picture, with the long locks and the skinny jeans,” you tease him.

“Yeah, I was a lot different then, but after all, it’s been an entire decade since then,” he sniggles.

“Why did you cut it?”

“Um, I was pretty new in the business back then and had a few assholes telling me that it’s not too masculine and all that. It was a time when I cared more about others’ opinion than I should have so I kind of gave in and cut it.”

“I’m sorry they ruined it for you. But I’m glad you don’t care about others that much now,” you smile at him softly. Harry’s eyes flicker down to his painted nails and ring-clad fingers and you just know what he is about to ask before he even speaks up.

“Does it… bother you? That I paint my nails and stuff?”

“No,” you shake your head confidently. “Not at all. I mean, I never saw you without them, but at this point I think it wouldn’t even feel right,” you add with a small laugh that brings Harry’s smile back as well. Stepping closer you kiss his shoulder softly before turning your focus on the food in front of you. “So, let’s peel these bad boys!”

It’s the first time you and Harry actually work together in the kitchen for more than just five minutes. He is always in control at home, taking over everything with Izzy and you know it’s a good bonding time for them, so you never even tried to push your way into it without their invitation. But now the bonding is all about you and him and so far you’ve been a great team. The cutest thing is that he brought you matching aprons to protect your clothes and you look like you are in some cooking show for sure.

You keep asking questions from each other while working on the food, Harry asks you some more about your childhood and teenage years and he shares stories from college where he had this friend group of five. Niall was part of the group as well and he said he is still in touch with the other boys, but they all do very different things now, the other three are already fathers themselves and live far away, so they don’t get to see each other that much.

You are making the little dumplings while Harry is on duty for cooking them, relentlessly fishing them out of the boiling water once they swim up to the top. When that’s done, Harry starts making the sauce while you take care of the brownies. It all works out well, everything gets done easily and while the dessert is in the oven you start eating what you just created.

“Mm, this sauce is really good!” you hum when you take the first bite.

“It’s my mum’s recipe,” he smiles proudly.

At the beginning of the evening you could tell that he felt nervous, not essentially about being with you, but probably because of the thought of going on a date in general. But as time passed by and he got more and more comfortable in the situation, you could see him loosen up and calm his nerves, so now that you are eating the dinner you made together and drinking a glass of fine wine, talking about anything and everything, you feel like he is actually enjoying something he was probably terrified from before.

When the brownies are done the two of you take advantage of the nice evening weather and Niall’s amazing balcony, moving out to the lounge chairs, munching on the dessert with the skyline of the city in front of you. At one point you start playing a game of would you rather, and after a while you ask each other the most random things, cracking each other up continuously. You don’t even realize and it’s already past ten, you completely talked the evening away, but you don’t regret any of it.

You clean up Niall’s place, leaving it just the way you got it, putting some leftovers into his fridge for him as a thank you for lending you his place before you head out.

Harry keeps a hand on you at all times on the way home, he is either holding your hand over the console, or rests his palm on your thigh above your knee, but either way, he just keeps the physical touch up always. Not that you mind, you are doing kind of the same, enjoying his closeness.

Arriving home you can feel a kind of tension growing, but not a bad kind. You want him. Your desire to go further than just kissing has grown immensely tonight, but you have no idea how he feels about taking it further and you don’t want to push him past his boundaries.

“Want to… sleep with me again?” he shyly asks when you’re going up the stairs.

“Yeah, I would love that,” you smile at him, giving him a quick peck on his cheek.

When you part ways in the hallway he probably expects you to do your night time routine, but you have other plans. Grabbing your polaroid camera you pad your way over to his room, knocking on the door, hoping he is not in the shower yet. When he calls out for you, he is standing at his dresser, the first few buttons of his shirt are already undone, but he is still dressed.

“I just thought that… we could snap a picture as a nice memento of our first date,” you shyly explain to him, holding the camera up.

“Oh, yeah! Okay, how do you... how should we…?” he looks around the room and you step to his dresser, placing the camera to the top of it.

“It’s got a timer,” you explain as you set it up and tell him where to stand so you can check if he is in the frame. When it’s all set, you glance back at him. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he nods shyly. You push the button and step back to him. “What should we…” he starts, but you already know what you want the picture to be like.

Cupping his face in your hands you pull him down and kiss him sweetly, for the first time tonight. You’ve noticed he hasn’t tried to kiss you all night, being a gentleman, but you’ve been craving it since he showed up at your door with the roses.

He hesitates for a moment, but eventually curls his arms around you, kissing you back softly. The timer goes off and the flash indicates that the photo has been taken. Pulling back you smile at him before taking the photo from the camera, setting it to the side to develop. Harry steps behind you, his arms coming to curl around your waist and you turn in his hold to face him.

“Hi,” you smile at him giddily. “Thanks for today.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he answers softly, making your heart flutter. You press your lips at his, kissing him hard and passionate, like you wanted all evening. He is quick to return the kiss with just as much passion as you put into it, his hands finding your waist as he slowly pulls you with him until the back of his legs hit the bed. He sits down and pulls you with him so you sit on his lap straddling him, never breaking the kiss as you settle in his arms, his hands roaming up and down your back.

Your kisses move from his delicious lips to his chiseled jawline and down his neck, your fingers working on the buttons of his dress shirt. You want him, you need him, he is all you can think about and the taste of his skin on your tongue is making you lose your mind.

His hands move up your thighs right to your bum, giving it a good squeeze, making you moan against the crook of his neck.

“Fuck,” he growls, throwing the two of you to the bed, getting on top of you before his lips attack yours, kissing you with a demand heatedly. His lips move smoothly against yours, devouring you with every suck and lick, making you dizzy in the head with such little effort.

He starts kissing down your neck, through your collarbone and whatever is showing in your dress on your chest. Your fingers lace through his messy curls, keeping him close to you as you try to control your moans and gasps. His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress and he is about to pull them down when he stops, breathing heavily against your skin.

Harry lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he is panting through his parted lips and you cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” you tell him softly, knowing well his mind is probably racing right now.

“I just…” he starts quietly. “I haven’t been with anyone since… Maggie,” he admits in a whisper and your gaze softens on him.

“And I haven’t been with anyone since Keith,” you admit truthfully. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m fine with just sleeping if that’s all you want to do.”

“No, I want to… I want to do things, I just… I’m not used to it, I guess,” he breathes out as you run your fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay. We can take it slow. Whatever you feel comfortable with,” you assure him pecking his lips softly.

“Is it… Is it okay if we just… touch?” He is clearly feeling a bit embarrassed to ask, but you will not make him feel bad for asking for whatever he wants. Pulling him down for another kiss you smile up at him.

“Touching is perfect. It’s all up to you,” you tell him and see the gratitude in his eyes right away.

Removing yourself off of his lap you climb back on the bed, pulling him with you until he is holding himself up above you. Your eyes meet for a second again before leaning down he kisses you slowly, taking his time with you. He is holding himself up on one arm while his other hand finds your hip, gently squeezing it when his tongue slides into your mouth through the kiss. Your hands move down his chest and you start unbuttoning his shirt until it falls open and he shimmies it off with a soft chuckle.

“Let’s get rid of the dress too,” you breathe out, reaching down for the hem of your dress, pulling it up until it’s off, leaving you in only your underwear. You’re wearing a matching set with a strapless bra and as you lie back on the bed Harry’s eyes basically devour you, his gaze running up and down your body several times.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he breathes out before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand cupping your side before wandering over to your stomach and up to your chest. He runs his hand over your chest, gently squeezing it, making you moan into the kiss.

“And you’re wearing too much clothes,” you grin as you reach down and start undoing his purple pants you ogled him quite often tonight. Harry chuckles as he holds himself up for you to work the button and the zipper on his pants before he takes over the task and gets rid of them himself, leaving him in only his boxer briefs and you have to hold yourself back from gasping when you see the growing bulge between his legs.

You don’t get to eye him for too long, because he is back to kissing you, his body pressing up against yours as you let your hands roam his strong back, his skin burning under your touch. His lips travel down the line of your neck to your chest and his hand snakes behind your back, but he stops before he could do anything with the clasp of your bra. Glancing up at you he gives you a questioning glare, asking for your permission.

“You can take it off,” you softly tell him nodding. His fingers are quick to undo it and a moment later you’re lying with a bare chest underneath him. His hand moves to your chest again and he kneads your breast again, this time with nothing between your skin and his palm. You whimper under his touch, you’ve been so starved to be touched this way and now that it’s happening, it’s hard to control yourself, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind seeing you react to what he is doing.

His lips return to your mouth and while he kisses you with so much passion, he slowly lays himself down next to you, so you’re facing each other sideways on the bed. He pulls you closer to him until you’re flushed against his hard chest and while your hand roams around his shoulders and back, his palm slides down your spine, over your waist until he calms bum, pushing you even closer to him. His clothed erection presses against your thigh and you can’t help but whimper his name at the feeling.

His kisses slow down and his touch loosens on you until he pulls back, seemingly just for air, but you can tell his head is starting to race again, spiraling thoughts taking over his mind.

“Do you want me to take over control?” you softly ask him, pushing his unruly curls out of his forehead. His gaze softens and he nods shortly with gratefulness lacing through his look.

He watches you intently as you push yourself up into a sitting position, he rolls to his back and keeps his gaze on you as you hook your fingers into your panties, getting rid of them before doing the same for him with his boxers. He lifts his hips up as you pull down the elastic material, revealing his hard cock to your greedy eyes. You want nothing more than to taste him, but he said he just wants to touch so you don’t try to overstep his limits, leaving this desire of yours to another time. Instead, you lean down, capturing his lips in a sweet, reassuring kiss that everything is going fine to calm his nerves as much as you can, while you place your palm to his lower stomach, moving down slowly until you find his hard cock, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a few gentle stroke.

“Fuck,” he breathes out against your parted lips and you can’t push a smile down.

You kiss his lips, his cheeks, his jawline, everywhere around his face while you keep pumping him, spreading some of his precum down his length to help your hand move smoother. Your actions awaken something in him, he grabs your face in both his hands, kissing you hard before he pushes you to your back, becoming the one on top. He parts your legs with pushing a knee between your thighs and while you keep up with your motions, he gets down to action as well. One of his large palms runs down your abdomen, stroking your lower belly gently before it moves to your inner thigh, spreading you even more for him before you feel his touch on your heated and dripping wet core. First, he just teasingly runs two fingers through your folds, testing how wet you are and when he realizes that you are more than ready to whatever he has planned, he moves his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing circles with the pad of his finger, sending a wave of pleasure up your spine immediately.

“Harry!” you moan his name, running your thumb over the head of his cock that makes him gasp and stop his motions for a moment before he returns to pleasuring you.

He buckles his hips into your touch while his fingers move down from your clit until he is teasing your entrance, just circling around it but not pushing into you. Rolling your hips you signal him that you want the teasing to end and he luckily gets the hint, slowly sliding two fingers inside you, curling them gently and it makes your eyes roll back immediately. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he starts moving his fingers in and out of you while you try your best to keep up your pumping motion as well, moving your other hand to his balls to give him some of that extra pleasure and he seems to be liking what you’re doing, because your name keeps falling from his lips as keeps fingering you, curling his digits just the right way inside you from time to time.

“Fuck, Y/N, I won’t last long,” he pants, his lips brushing against your neck before he kisses the soft skin above your collarbone.

“It’s alright. Just want you to feel good, H,” you assure him, though you’re getting closer to your release as well.

“Are you close?” he asks out of breath, still holding himself up above you, leaning onto his other arm next to your head.

“Yeah, don’t stop,” you nod, turning your head so your lips could meet for a kiss again.

You can tell he is trying hard to hold himself back, to stretch it out as long as he can. A torturous look tugs on his face and you kiss his temple, wanting nothing more than to see him finally reach the peak.

“Let go, H. It’s alright,” you whisper against his skin and he whines at your words before you feel his cock jerk in your hand and he cums under your touch.

You keep stroking him as he rides his high, gasping and panting your name while he spills his semen onto your naked stomach. His fingers stopped moving inside you as he found his relief, but as soon as you feel him recovering from his orgasm, he goes right back to where he left it, desperately wanting to pleasure you as well.

“Harry!” you moan when he hits a specific spot inside you, tingling your nerves just right, your hands come to clasp onto his broad shoulders.

“Cum for me, babe. Let me see you feel good,” he whispers before his lips occupy your mouth again, kissing you with so much passion and vigor, your senses are starting to overload.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you gasp feeling your toes curl and Harry picks his pace up, his thumb coming in contact with your clit as he tries to make you reach your high.

And then it finally happens. You stop breathing for a moment, the intensity of it washing over your whole body. It’s been so long since you felt this good with anyone, and just the thought of doing this with Harry probably adds a lot to the equation.

He slows his fingers down, but makes sure to curl them inside you every time he pumps them in, and you repeat his name over and over again until you finally catch your breath. Your gaze meets his, and you see a happy and satisfied shine in his green irises as he leans down and kisses you sweetly, pulling his fingers out of you gently.

“M’gonna get a towel,” he murmurs, pecking your lips one last time before he gets up from the bed and walks into the bathroom while you lie on his bed, totally gone and worn out from your orgasm. Harry comes back with a damp washcloth and cleans up the mess he made on you before gently moving to between your legs, taking such good care of you. He drops the cloth to the floor, not wanting to leave the bed again as he pulls the covers over your bodies, pulling you into his arms.

“How are you feeling?” you softly ask, pecking his toned chest.

“I’m good.”

Lifting your head you search for his eyes, wanting to make sure he didn’t regret any of it, but he seems calm and rested for a change. Smiling up at him you push yourself up a little so you can connect your lips before you snuggle back to his side and let yourself slowly drift off to sleep, listening to his steady heartbeat under your face.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[ddarker-dreams]

Lunch Discussions. Team Bucciarati x F Reader🎀

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

Word count: 1.3k, somehow ?? Notes: this is probably the most lighthearted thing i’ve ever created. idk what’s happening here. it started as a silly idea in my head but I Could Not Stop. so here it is

“If you were stranded on a deserted island, who from this table would you want to be stuck with?” 

Mista’s question goes largely unnoticed. Fugo and Narancia are in a heated discussion on if classical or hip hop is better, Bucciarati and Giorno are speaking about business, and Abbacchio is trying to zone the chatter out. That leaves you to save Mista from the throes of embarrassment. Truth be told, this innocent question is an improvement from Mista’s usual discourse.

The gunslinger’s face lights up when you hum, considering the question. 

“So it’d just be the two of us? I can’t say I’d bring a radio or something?” You ask to clarify further. 

Mista shakes his head. “Nope, no bringing anything.” 

That means practicality is most vital here. You mull over what each of your teammates (and bosses), could bring to the table. It didn’t take too long to reach a definitive answer.

“For survival’s sake, I’d pick Giorno,” you decide, the aforementioned man’s attention going to you upon hearing his name. “Well, I guess it depends on whether or not the food Gold Experience makes is edible. If it is, we’d be able to survive a long time off of it. Say, Giorno, can you eat the stuff you make?” 

“I’ve… never tried, so I’m not sure. In theory, any life created by Gold Experience is the same down to the genetics of what it’s based on.” 

Narancia snorts and takes a bite of his salad. “It’s all fun and games until a coconut falls on Giorno’s head and he’s knocked out cold. Then all the sticks and sand he used to make the food would turn back in your stomach.” 

Huh. That makes for a grotesque mental image. 

Giorno tries to defend himself but Narancia is too busy readying his argument. “A coconut…?” 

“Clearly, I’m the best choice here,” Narancia decides, pointing his fork at you. Should that be considered a threat? “Aerosmith could get the attention of a nearby plane.” 

“Non-Stand users wouldn’t be able to see it, you dumbass. What are you going to do? Wait for a Stand user pilot to roll on by?” Fugo asks with a sigh, Narancia shooting him a nasty look. 

“You never know! I’m sure there’s one or two. Besides, why would anyone want to bring you along? Your Stand couldn’t even hunt for food, it’d turn everything into a big ol’ pile of mush.” 

Fugo clicks his tongue. “There’s more to survival than that. Food is a valuable resource, yes, but do you know how to purify water?” 

Narancia furrows his eyebrows together, considering the proposition. “You have to… purify water?” 

Now it’s Fugo’s turn to look at you.

“This idiot would give you dysentery on day one,” he states dryly. You hold back a laugh at the indignation on Narancia’s face. “I think my chances would be pretty good. At least I know what poisonous plants look like.” 

Mista’s simple question is turning into a complex cobweb of possibilities. He can’t help but notice the others seemed more willing to chime in the moment you entered the conversation. Silently, he tells himself not to take it personally. 

“Well, whatever. I’d pick [First]. She could make us a shelter and bridges to different areas. The rest of you guys can be boring and pick Giorno.” Narancia decides. You can’t help but feel a little honored that he’d pick you, a content smile on your face. His last comment makes you wonder if picking Giorno is the easy answer, due to the nature of his Stand’s abilities. Abbacchio, who none of you thought was paying attention, speaks up. 

“I wouldn’t pick Giorno,” Abbacchio places his headphones around his neck. “I wouldn’t pick any of you guys, actually. Aside from Bucciarati, you’d all be dead in a week, easily.”

Bucciarati clears his throat, realizing he’s now been roped into the conversation. “I’m glad you guys are having fun, but--” 

Mista is quick to rebuke Abbacchio’s claims. “I would not die in a week! I’d at the very least make it to two weeks.” 

“Like hell you would. Pistols would destroy your food supply on the first day.” Abbacchio counters. Hm, he’s got a point, you think. Pistols do have a notoriously ravenous appetite. Note to self, do not get stuck on an island with Mista. 

Mista puts a hand to his chin, contemplating. “Hm… actually, yeah, you’re right. Nevermind.” 

You blink, incredulous at Mista’s agreeable response. He gave up that fast?! 

“What if we kept it out of Pistol’s reach?” You tentatively speak up, trying to save Mista’s honor once more. He shudders at the thought.

“There is no such thing as food out of Pistols reach,” Mista sighs, to which his Stand cheers. “They will always find it.” 

An idea comes to mind. Clasping your hands together, you look at Narancia with a smile, who immediately returns it in full. “Oh, I know! What if we got on Aerosmith, and it flew us to safety?” 

Narancia likes the idea and nods his head vigorously. “That’s genius!” 

Fugo snorts, preparing a rebuttal in record time. “Yeah, it’d be genius until you both drop into the ocean.” 

“[First], did you forget what happened the last time you were on a plane with Narancia?” Abbacchio raises an eyebrow. Your blood runs cold as memories of Notorious B.I.G come flooding back. Actually, being on any form of transportation with these people seems to end poorly. Cars, boats, airplanes… 

“Come to think of it, you’re right about that,” you agree with a shiver. “Being stuck with Abbacchio might be interesting. Moody Blues could replay scenes from a movie to pass the time.” 

“It’d be a one-man show, but I guess it’s not impossible,” Abbacchio replies. Giorno, who had been silently watching the banter, decides to speak his piece.

“I agree with Narancia,” Giorno nods at you. “[First] would be able to treat my wounds, and I hers. We’d survive the longest.” 

“Oh, please. You guys just want to be stuck on an island with [First] because she’s c-” 

Abbacchio kicks Mista under the table, effectively silencing him. Beats getting stabbed with a fork, you muse. Bucciarati, who is doing his best to moderate the discussion, has remained noticeably absent. Not wanting to miss out on his input, you direct the question to him.

“What about you, Bucciarati? Who would you pick?” 

Your Capo thinks about it longer than the others. “Fugo’s plentiful knowledge of biodiversity would be useful. Though, if we’re taking Stands into account, [First]’s Scarlet Ribbons could make a net for fishing.” 

“Finally, a sensible answer.” Fugo sighs. 

“The real question is,” Mista takes a deep breath, placing his hands on the table. “Why is no one picking me? 

“I thought we already went over that,” Narancia replies.

“Aside from the little caveat Pistols presents, I’d still be a valuable asset. Did you guys forget that I survived prison?”

“Two weeks of prison, might I add,” Fugo corrects, to Mista’s dismay. “By that logic, Narancia would be the best choice.”

“Which I am--”

“You don’t even know how to make a fire, much less survive in the wild.” 

“If I shoot something long enough it’ll catch on fire.” Narancia shrugs. Fugo rubs his temple, fending off a headache that looms on the horizon. It looks like none of you are going to be reaching a conclusion anytime soon, talking circles around one another. Still, you feel as if this is the appeal of talking to them. You can expect it to be a thrilling adventure from start to finish. 

Everyone had been too drawn into the conversation to realize the waiter, who finally works up the courage to clear his throat, catching your attention. 

“The bill for today,” is all he has the courage to say. 

Mista, Narancia, and Abbacchio both motion to Giorno at the same time, who sighs and reaches for his wallet.

[13uswntimagines]

Works Like a Charm (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

Request: reader with the team where r falls asleep any and everywhere and on everyone? just super cute friendship and stuff

Authors’s note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her this would not have happened! I hope you enjoy and totally feel free to hit me up with comments and questions or if you just wanna say Hi!

You were the baby of the team, and being the baby came with very special privileges. The team knew of your sleeping issues, and the various methods you and your therapist had implemented (including scheduling yourself to avoid all blue light sources for hours before bed and sleeping with a stuffed animal (the famed stuffed Triceratops, Roary) each night,) to help fall asleep and stay asleep at night. But it had only been a week since you had actually looked for help, so it was too early to expect results, as you told them (and yourself) repeatedly. 

More often than not you found yourself sitting on a couch, Roary cuddled close to your chest, watching the rerun of whatever game had been on, desperately waiting for your brain to turn off so you could sleep. That was the exact scene Ashlyn had stumbled upon. She glanced at the clock, wincing at the bold 2:15 that blinked back at her as she rubbed her eyes. 

“What are you doing awake kid? Thought you weren’t supposed to do blue light after 9?” She asked softly, plopping down beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You shrugged, leaning further into her side. You closed your eyes, burying your head into her warm arm.

“I literally laid awake for three hours. I tried not to focus on anything, or to focus on breathing, but I kept replaying the game in my head. So I thought I would watch it, see if rewatching the ending would help my thoughts, Idk, end too?” You moved so that your head was on her lap and you looked up at her. “Did anything I just said make sense out of my head?”

She nodded sadly down at you, her hands, stroking your hair slowly. You closed your eyes again, enjoying the feeling. You always wanted to be a cat when you were little. Your thoughts became slightly fuzzier, interrupted slightly when Ashlyn spoke. 

“Don’t fall asleep here kid. Ali will kill us both if we sleep on the couch,” The blond keeper 

“Just a few more minutes please?” You asked softly, cracking your eyes open. 

“Alright. Just a few,” she nodded. 

Coincidentally that’s exactly where Ali would find you the next morning. Cuddled into Ashlyn's stomach, snoring softly. From that moment, it became a team rule. It didn’t matter where you slept, as long as you were sleeping. 

*****

You were never going to live this down. Emily took a stealthy photo of you slumped against Alex’s arm, the climax of Black Panther’s fight taking place in the background. Kelley guarded your other side like a pitbull, just daring anyone to try and mess with you. 

“How did you get her to fall asleep Alex? She was so hyped up when we got here!” Emily said way too loudly, shrinking slightly when the veterans shushed her. 

“I literally just wrapped my arms around her while Kelley braided with her hair,” Alex whispered, glancing down to see that you weren’t moving before she continued, “she kept moving too much for Kelley to get the braid straight, so I just held her still like I do with my niece for family pictures. Once she stopped struggling, it was instant.” 

“Works like a charm every time. Who knew the world’s most feared striker could be turned into a puppy with some cuddles and pets?”  Megan laughed softly. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s hilarious. Now shush and watch the movie,” Kelley said, flicking Megan playfully. More softly she added, “you’ll wake her.”

That shut the group up quickly. No one wanted to get in trouble for interrupting the little amount of sleep you got. 

****

You were sitting next to Alyssa on the bench during practice, bouncing your leg you waited for your turn to run. It had been a stressful week. Everyone was preparing for the first real game of the season and even the usual pre-practice locker room chat had been tenser than usual. 

Stress usually meant one thing for you. No sleep. It was like your brain had a death wish and just wanted to make itself more miserable. The dark circles didn’t go unnoticed by your teammates, hence why you had been regulated to the bench with the keeper when you weren’t running drills. 

Alyssa started humming absentmindedly. You looked over at her. She was biting the edge of her lip, watching Becky run drills. She stopped and looked over, seemingly realizing that she was making noise. 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“No, it’s really pretty! Please don’t stop on my account,” You said smiling and looking back towards the team as Alyssa started singing under her breath. “MmmhummmM, mmmhummM, So this is love. So this is what makes life Divine.” 

You swayed to the tune, closing your eyes, once. You opened them again, more slowly. Then you felt yourself blink twice more, more slowly this time. It took slightly more effort to open them again. You stared hard at the field, not noticing Alyssa scootch closer to you on the bench. Then you blinked again. 

 “Alright Naeher, you’re up,” AD called jogging over to the bench from where the rest of the keepers were practicing. She stopped short at the glare Alyssa sent her way. 

“Don’t think I’m going to be practicing PK’s today,” She said softly, gesturing to you with her free arm. The other arm was wrapped around you, keeping you from falling off the bench like you had almost done when you fell asleep. AD smiled, but then ran back to the group, unwilling to disturb you either. 

Maybe the pitch wasn’t the best place to fall asleep, but with the soft looks the team was sending you, they all knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Your health was important and they would help however they could. 

*****

It was like a rule on the bus. One didn’t fall asleep unless they wanted to get mustaches drawn on their face, or their cleats stolen. The bus ride to the practice field was long and supposed to be a time for team bonding, though it almost always ended up with Alex and Kelley sharing earbuds to listen to Hosier or Haley Kiyoko, Krashlyn watching some weird reality show, Megan Christen and Tobin discussing Re-ink stuff and the youngins causing havoc on the back, while Becky and Alyssa did their crosswords and Carli watched the road, trying not to get car sick. 

You and Sam had seats across the aisle from each other but would sit next to each other on trips like these, playing hangman or Super Mario bros on switch. Today was one of those days where you slid across the aisle, pen in hand, looking for entertainment to keep the boredom away. 

“That’s not fair. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is not an acceptable word to describe winning the World Cup,” Sam snorted, shaking her head as you finished the hangman. 

“You’re one to talk. Last time you gave me “jazzy” as a word to describe how it would feel to meet Mia Hamm. You realize that J and Z are like, some of the least commonly used letters in the alphabet?” You exclaimed, your hands waving wildly as you tried to prove your point. 

“It was a response to the fact that you picked a word that doesn’t exist,” Sam rolled her eyes. 

“Wacknut is totally a word,” you huffed crossing your arms. 

“You know what ducky, I think,”  Sam paused, covering her mouth as a giant yawn split her face, “You’re a wacknut.” She finished, exhaling and wiping a tear from one of her eyes. 

“Stop that, I didn’t sleep last night,” you said, yawning unintentionally yourself.

“Told you not to watch that last episode of Game of Thrones,” Sam said, stretching her arms slightly in front of her. 

“You were right, it was a terrible ending, and a disgrace to television, but I had to know” You mumbled, your voice growing soft, and trailing off towards the end.  

“I know, we were all let down by that one,” Sam said, leaning her head on top of yours, comfortingly. “I should take my own advice more often, 6 hours of sleep is just not enough.”

“Hmm, I know why they call you the tower of power, you’re soooo warm,” You nuzzled into her shoulder, her heartbeat soothing you. 

“Did anyone ever tell you the story of how I got that name?” Sam asked, stifling another yawn.

“No,” you echoed her yawn. 

“Good, they never tell it right. Once upon a time, there was a badass named me. The end.”

“Hmm,”

****

“So I know that we’re never supposed to wake Y/N up unless there’s an emergency, but we have practice and there aren’t any rules pertaining to Sammy,” Emily said too loudly, staring at where you were cuddled into Sam’s chest. The bus had stopped a few minutes ago and had slowly unloaded. 

“Yeah, they’re kind of impossible to separate without waking both of them up,” Lindsey nodded, showing Alex a picture she had gotten from above you. Not only was Sam’s head on you, the two of you were holding hands in your sleep, and your other hand was tangled on the end of her shirt like your dreaming mind had mistaken it for a blanket and tried to pull it up. 

“I have no problem carrying ducky, but I’m not tall enough to get Sam too,” Kelley said, scratching her head. 

Behind them, Dawn walked back onto the bus. “What’s the holdup people? We have a practice to get to! I’m not defending you to Vlatko if you’re late again Sonnett.”

You jumped at the noise, jostling Sam awake too. You blinked at the woman, eyes wide and suddenly alert, searching for danger. “What happened!” 

“Whoa, slow down killer. You fell asleep on Sam and she fell asleep on you,” Emily smirked as your cheeks turned blood red. 

“We just arrived to practice. You’re not late yet,” Lindsey said, punching Sam lightly in the shoulder and turning to grab her bag. “You’re lucky Sam that you had a sleeping meep meep to protect you, otherwise you totally would have been pranked for napping on the bus. 

“There’s no way in hell that meep meep fell asleep before our favorite tower of power.” Emily bantered back, shoving Lindsey off of the bus. 

“We better go,” You said softly, playing with the hand that was still intertwined with Sams. 

“Yeah, probably. Remind me to sleep with you again sometime. That was the best nap I had in ages,” Sam said absentmindedly stretching her neck to each side. Your eyes went wide. Then she froze, realizing what she had said. “Wait. That came out wrong.”

“It’s fine Sammie, I know what you meant, and I’d love that,” you bumped her shoulder with yours, then grabbed your bag. “Race you to the pitch!” 

Sam shook her head as if to clear it as you launched yourself off the bus. Then she grabbed her bag and followed you, sprinting to try and catch up. 

 Yep, the team would do everything they could to make sure their little meep meep got the best sleep she could. 

[kikis-writing-world]

Who’s The Boss

Summary: Max has a late night meeting with his boss to discuss his recent poor performance. She might have an idea or two on what he can do to keep his job.

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!OC (It is written third person, but there are very few descriptors. Could be read as F!Reader)

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating/Warnings: 18+ SMUT! D/S dynamics (sub!Max, use of “ma’am” and “good boy” honorifics), abuse of power (consensual boss/employee,) oral (f receiving,) squirting, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, role playing, established relationship, aftercare conversation (he’s a vamp and doesn’t really need any, but it’s brought up CUZ ITS IMPORTANT!) Swearing. No beta/editing. As always, if I miss a tag please feel free to let me know! I wanna keep my bbys safe <3

A/N: Idk why I thought I should write Max being dommed? I guess I wanted our vampire frat boy to be put in his place?. Anyway... here it is, I’m only mildly ashamed lol

Max watched as the final person boarded the elevator, finally leaving the office. He’d been anxious all day, uncharacteristically so, for the rest of his coworkers to leave for the night. He nearly felt like shooing Elaine out of the office by the time she was packing up. With the floor empty, he finally turned towards the closed door of the office.

She’d disappeared into the office about 40 minutes ago. The door was closed but the light was on, bleeding through the crack under the door. He steeled himself, not truly knowing what he was going to meet on the other side once he knocked. Grabbing the nearest file folder off the nearest desk, he shook his arms loose and crossed the room. His knock was answered by a clipped voice, calling for him to enter.

She was sitting behind the desk, looking over various papers and reports. Her bottom lip, perfectly painted bright red, was caught between her teeth. The cardigan she’d worn earlier in the day was draped over the back of the chair. The top two buttons of her tight blouse were undone, the third looking ready to pop open over the swell of her breasts. He cursed the desk from blocking his view of her lower half. He’d seen the pencil skirt she was wearing as she walked the office earlier and he would love another look at her bare legs.

“Can I help you, Mr. Phillips?” She drawled. Her voice oozed with boredom and she didn’t even look up at him. Something about his disinterest had him aching to catch her attention.

“Uh, yes, Mrs-”

“Miss.” She cut him off with a sharp glare before he even had a chance to say her name. It was so abrupt, he almost felt like he was slapped with the syllable.

“It’s Miss.” She repeated, eyes boring into him. “I’m not married. What use would I have for some useless husband?” She scoffed, sitting up and giving him her full attention. His eyes dropped to her chest, seeing the way the movement put even more strain on the fabric covering her.

“Well? Are you wasting my time for a reason, Phillips, or are you here to stare at my breasts?” She snipped, eyebrow quirking up in challenge. Her lips pursed, proud of herself for catching him. He might have blushed if he was physically capable.

“It’s my sales numbers.” He grimaced. She was already in a bad mood and it was about to get worse.

“I’ve already seen your numbers, Phillips.” She sighed, standing up. His eyes followed her hands as they smoothed down the front of her skirt. “Have a seat,” she ordered, gesturing to the chair opposite her. He sat as requested, keeping the folder in his lap as she rounded to the front of the desk. The red patent stilettos she wore nearly made his mouth water.

“Now Max,” she paused to perch on the edge of the desk. He fought to keep his eyes on her face and not the long legs on display in front of him. “May I call you Max?”

“Of course.” He nodded, desperate for her approval.

“Max, we had very high hopes for you when you came to us but lately your numbers have been dropping. You’re not quite up to par. What’s going on, buddy?” She asked with an exaggerated pout.

He struggled to answer, not only because he was scared to disappoint but also because she crossed her legs as she spoke. Any thoughts he had about defending himself disappeared, the only thoughts on the smooth inner thigh and scrap of red fabric she’d flashed him.

She tsked, stopped his ambling for a coherent thought. “That’s a shame. You had good credentials, good references, you did amazing in your interview.”

She leaned back onto her desk, both arms stretched behind her to keep herself propped up. He wished beyond wishes that button in the center of her chest would finally give way.

“If you don’t start impressing me, we’re going to have to let you go.” She stated.

Max’s eyes widened, tearing his gaze away from her body to her eyes. “There has to be something I can do. I need this job. I’m better than these numbers, I promise.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, biting her lower lip as she thought. Despite the worry over losing his job, he wondered how it tasted. “There may be something you can do for me, Max.” She decided, uncrossing her legs.

“Anything.” He breathed, and by god did he mean it.

The last thing he was expecting was for her to lift her leg, resting the arch of her foot on his shoulder. The overhead lights bounced off the shiny material of the shoe as it found its perch, the thin heel pressing not uncomfortably into his collarbone. His mouth ran dry as he followed the line of her leg up from her foot to where it disappeared under her skirt. The skirt that had ridden up her thighs as she lifted her leg high enough to pin him in the chair.

“Why don’t you show me that silver tongue you bragged about when we hired you.” She purred.

Max’s jaw dropped and it took his brain a second to catch up. It didn’t help that what little blood he had coursing through his vampiric veins was entirely focussed below his belt.

“Yes ma’am.” He breathed. He tried to move forward, but her leg kept him in his seat.

“You can start there.” She instructed, very glib for what she was asking him to do.

“Yes ma’am,” he repeated. He cupped her calf in his hand, pressing his lips to the inside of her ankle. He kissed it tenderly, eyes on her to see if he was pleasing her. Her lips quirked up, almost imperceptibly so but it egged him on regardless. He kissed her ankle, licking the soft skin. He tested the pressure against his shoulder, moving his lips farther up her leg. When he met no resistance, he continued upwards.

He nipped at the skin of her calf, worshiping every inch of skin she permitted him to reach. When she felt his teeth against her skin, she didn’t jump, but warned him not to bite. He glanced up at her, trying to show his apology in his eyes. She seemed appeased and didn’t say anything more, letting her leg drape over his shoulder as he moved higher.

He reached her thigh, looking up for permission to push her skirt out of the way. Instead of verbalizing a response, she hooked her other knee over his shoulder. Trapped between her soft thighs, he could already smell her arousal. She lifted her hips from the desk, pushing her weight onto him. He slid the skirt up to her waist, revealing the lacy red number that she had been hiding all day. He moved to pull the garment down over her ass, but she stopped him with a hard pull of his hair quickly grabbing his attention.

“Do you really think you’ve earned that yet?” She asked. He could tell it was rhetorical, that he hadn’t earned it. He responded by releasing the lace, which earned him a good boy. He didn’t have a chance to preen under the praise as she pushed his head forward to her core.

He gripped her thighs as he licked at her through her panties. The fabric was already damp and tasted of her. He groaned, gripping her plush thighs tighter.

She sighed above him, releasing her tight grip on his hair to stroke it instead. Her nails dragged along his scalp in the most delicious way.

The lace grew slick quickly, his own saliva mixing with her arousal as he worked at her. It clung to her skin, almost showing him what she looked like underneath. He longed to taste her without the damn barrier between them.

Her hand left the back of his head, but having received no further instructions, he kept licking and sucking at her. He pushed his tongue as deep into her as the underwear allowed, swirling his tongue against her walls before focusing back on her clit. Chancing a glance upwards, he saw that she had unbuttoned her blouse, her hands playing with her nipples through the matching red lace bra. He moaned at the sight.

“Focus.” She chided, although her tone was breathy with pleasure. He obliged, hoping that if he made her feel good enough, she’d give him more. “So easily distracted.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He muttered, not daring to move away. He heard her breath hitch as his voice vibrated against her. He hummed against her, hoping to recreate the sensation.

Her hips bucked as she gasped. He smirked proudly against her, but a moment later she was pulling him away by his hair again. He looked up at her, licking her taste off his lips as he wondered what he’d done wrong.

“Take them off.”

He barely stopped himself from ripping the delicate fabric into pieces, instead sliding it hastily down her legs. He dropped the red lace to the ground, diving back into her core. He moaned at the taste of her with nothing blocking his way this time. He devoured her like a man starved.

His increased efforts seemed to be working for her, as she leaned backwards onto her elbows with a moan. He wanted to tell her how exquisite she tasted, but was worried taking his mouth off of her to do so would just annoy her. He tried to convey it with his actions, licking as deep into her as he could. He groaned as her juices coated his tongue, dripping down his lips and chin.

Her hand was back in his hair, firm grip directing him up to her clit. He obliged, circling the bud with his tongue. He tried different motions, listening for her reactions to find what she liked best. Anytime she moaned or gasped, he tried to make her do it again and again. His chin was soaked, but it felt like she was growing wetter by the second against him.

“Fingers,” she breathed, a pleading tone to her voice. The sound made him ache in his pants, her in-charge facade losing power as he pleasured her.

He plunged two fingers inside her, her walls fluttering around them as she whimpered. He worked them in and out, crooking them upwards against her muscles as he searched for the spot that would drive her wild. He knew he found it when her hips jerked against him, heels digging into his back as her grip on his hair grew near painful.

“Right there,” she confirmed, voice breaking. “Oh god Max, right there.”

He thanked whatever evil magic behind vampires that he didn’t need oxygen to live. Even if he did need to breathe, he wouldn’t have been able to pull out of her tight grip as she came. As her taste flooded his mouth, he acknowledged that this would have been a valiant death indeed. She ground her hips against him, using him to prolong her pleasure.

He only pulled away as her body went limp, her hand releasing the back of his head as she reclined against the desk, panting to catch her breath. He sat up, devouring the sight of her splayed out in front of him as he licked her from his lips. Her lipstick was smeared so slightly from biting her lips, her skin shimmering with a sheen of sweat. He could see her nipples peaked against the lacy bra. Her legs were still propped on his shoulders, giving him an exquisite view of her twitching pussy. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her as he began undoing his pants.

The sound of his belt clanking open had her looking down at him. She frowned, despite her relaxed stance.

“Oh no, no, no.” She practically sang, stopping Max in his tracks. “You think one little orgasm and I’m going to let you fuck me?” She laughed, breathless. “It’s going to take more than that. Especially if you want me to forgive those awful sales numbers.” She sat up, chest still heaving. She fanned her blouse, trying to cool her body.

When Max’s voice finally returned to him, he asked “What do I need to do?”

She cupped his chin, making sure he kept his eyes on her face. “Such a good boy,” she cooed, caressing his cheek with her thumb. He leaned into the loving touch, craving more of it. “If you want to make me forget those numbers, you better make me soak this desk. Make a mess of those reports and I won’t be able to read the numbers, will I?”

The grip on his chin tightened as she leaned forward, holding in place as she stared him down. “And then maybe I’ll let you fuck me. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” He gulped, staring deeply into her eyes.

“Good boy.” She smiled, giving his head a quick shake before she released her grip and laid back against the desk once more.

Max didn’t need to be instructed further. He wanted to fuck her. Wanted to prove that he deserved to fuck her, that he could make her feel so good if she let him. The second she laid back, he dove between her thighs once more.

She was still sensitive from her first orgasm, if her twitching muscles and breathless moans were anything to go by. He eased two fingers back inside of her, searching once again for that spot. She was tighter but wetter than moments before and he throbbed in his pants. He could feel his dick leaking with excitement, but he had to ignore it for now. It would be worth it if she finally let him fuck her.

He sucked her clit gently to start, easing her back into the sensations, but worked up to a feverish pace quickly. She was writhing under him in no time as his fingers twisted inside of her.

He heard objects falling off the desk as she squirmed. She was making a mess and he loved it. Anything that could serve as proof that he was rocking her world was good in his book.

“M-Max, I’m-” She moaned as something heavy clattered to the ground.

He growled against her, massaging and pressing inside her. If she wanted to make a mess, he’d make a mess of her.

He felt her whole body tense up and shake before exploding as she cried out. Her convulsing walls pushed his fingers out of her as she came, warm and wet against him. He moaned as it soaked him, drinking up as much of the sweet nectar as he could as he circled her clit with his fingers. He felt his shirt sticking to him as her cum dribbled down his chin and neck.

As quickly as it happened, it was over. She lay whimpering and twitching on the desk as he sat back against the chair beaming with pride. She didn’t even look up at him as he gently lowered her legs from his shoulders, bringing them into his lap instead.

He caressed her lower legs, grounding her and letting her know he was there as he waited for his next orders. He was almost painfully hard as he waited for her to come back to him, to finally give him the permission he craved. If he didn’t get to fuck her, god he was going to kill something tonight.

She sat up slowly, her hair a mess. She looked like the perfect centerfold of the dirtiest magazine he could think of, eyes hooded and dark. She reminded him of the MTV video vamps he jerked off to as a teenager, only hotter. Teenaged him would have blown his load twice-over by now.

“So, you can follow directions then.” She hummed.

Max couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling in his chest. “When there’s an incentive.”

She chucked with him, leaning towards him. She reached out to wipe his face, collecting her juices on her fingers. “The carrot instead of the rod then.” She smirked before sucking her fingers clean.

“Whichever one gets to fuck you.” He shot back, adding a ma’am as he remembered himself.

“Don’t get cheeky,” she warned although she grinned. “But you’ve earned it.”

Max thought he might faint as she crooked her finger, beckoning him forward. He stood so quickly the chair toppled behind him. He stood between her legs, pressing as close to her as he could. He could feel his pants dampening across his thighs where he leaned into the desk under her. He was trembling with anticipation, but he waited for her permission to go any further.

She caressed his cheek, tiling her face in thought. He nuzzled into her hand, aching for more of her touch, to please her.

“You want me?” She purred.

“Please.” He nearly whimpered.

“How do you want me?”

“Anyway you’ll have me.”

“Good boy.” She grinned, patting his cheek twice. She turned his head, pressing her mouth to his ear to whisper “bend me over the desk and fuck me like your job depends on it.”

He was never so glad for super-human speed. She was bent over the desk, ass on display in a second. He heard her gasp as she was laid flat over the top of the desk, but he could hardly care. He was too busy pushing his pants down his thighs, finally freeing his cock.

He lined himself up, not daring to ask if she was ready lest she take back the permission she’d given. He thrust into her, groaning loudly as he finally sank into her warmth. She moaned, back arching under him. He had to pause, already so close to cumming after the long wait.

“Fuck, Max.” She panted as she adjusted to his size. It only took a second until she was wiggling back into him.

He gripped her hips tightly. Not having been able to bite her, mark her up, he hoped her hips bruised. Hoped she would have a lasting reminder of him taking her over the desk in the days it took to fade.

He thrust in and out, hearing the breath punched out of her lungs with every stroke. Her hands were scrambling for purchase, looking for something solid to hold onto as he fucked harshly into her. He grit his teeth, trying to stave off his own increasing pleasure. He had to make this last. She moaned beneath him, pushing back into his thrusts once she gripped the edge of the desk for leverage.

He was glad he’d had the patience to wait until the office was empty. There was no doubt what was happening in this room from the lewd sounds. Skin slapping skin; moans, grunts and cries. Watching her ass bounce against him, he was glad he hadn’t died between her thighs. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

Feeling bold by the noises she was making, he reached forward and gripped her hair, pulling her head back. She whimpered before moaning his name loudly. He felt her tighten impossibly around him. Taking that as approval, he kept the grip tight.

“God, Max,” she moaned loudly, voice echoing off the walls. “If you could make sales with your dick, we’d be rich.”

He growled through clenched teeth, eating up the praise. Releasing her hair, he wrapped his hand around her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. She whimpered as it changed the angle inside of her, her eyes fluttering closed.

“‘S’at mean I’m keeping my job?” He huffed into her ear before licking a stripe up her neck.

“Seal the deal first.” She shot back. He nearly laughed that she was still trying to hold authority over him in such a vulnerable position. Her legs were shaking, her voice trembling and hoarse.

He released her neck to palm her breast. He squeezed at the soft skin as he nosed along her shoulder. She smelt like sweat and sex, her typical perfume all but faded. He swore he could even smell the blood in her veins, flowing so fast, so hot.

She cried out his name as he pinched her nipple. He pushed her back over the desk, feeling her legs close to giving out. He could feel her getting close to her third orgasm, her walls fluttering around him. He stopped holding back, ready to chase his own release. Sneaking his hand beneath her, it only took the barest flick to her sensitive clit until she was wailing beneath him.

His eyes rolled back as her walls clamped around him. Feeling her walls fluttering around him, convulsing with release, it only took him a few more shallow thrusts until he was joining her. His loud groans bounced off the walls of the small office as he buried himself deep within her. She whimpered softly, reaching back to hold the hand that was clasped around her hip.

As he came down from his high, he pulled his softening length from her. He watched her walls flutter against nothing, his seed dripping out of her. He gripped a cheek in each hand, massaging them. It made the milky liquid drip out of her quicker, spreading over her lips. It was hypnotic.

He stopped himself before any could drip down onto the carpet. He took a kleenex from the box that had miraculously stayed on top of the desk throughout the encounter, using it to clean her up. She whined softly at the touch, overstimulated and spent. He threw the used tissue in the bin with perfect accuracy.

Lifting his pants back to his hips, he rounded the desk to sit in the rolling chair she had occupied when he entered. He couldn’t help but laugh at the goofy sated smile on her face as she remained on the desk. She looked up at his laugh, eyes bright but tired.

“So, do I keep my job?” He asked with a grin, smoothing down her hair.

“Mmhmm.” She nodded, closing her eyes at his touch. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

He laughed heartily at that before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Another round, maybe.”

“Ugh, vampire.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I mean, I didn’t say anything-”

“No, you were perfect.” He promised her.

“‘Kay. Good.” She sighed. “Cause if you needed, I’d move right now. I would.”

“I believe you.”

She groaned as she stood up, stretching her tired muscles. She kicked her shoes off, legs shaky enough without the heels, and padded slowly around the desk, leaning heavily on the furniture for support. Max watched with a smug grin.

“Shut up.” She pouted, sitting delicately in his lap.

“Didn’t say anything.” He argued, wrapping his arms around her.

“You were thinking it. It’s not my fault I can’t keep up with you.” She complained, nuzzling into his neck.

“Nope.” He denied, letting the word pop. “I was wondering if I get to be your… what did you say, “useless husband” again.”

“I was getting into character.” She laughed softly. “You’re always my useless husband, Mr. Phillips.”

“Don’t you forget it, Mrs. Phillips.”

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @thisisthe-wayson​ @vonschweetz​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @driedgreentomatoes​ @computeringturtle​ @gorgeousgrogu​ (you replied to my post about writing this, but I can remove the tag if you’d like)

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Back The Future (part 3)

Summary: Vivi and Arthur travel back in time to the beginning of Hellbent. Neither of them are okay. 

(Part 1) (Part 2)

.

Mystery, instead of answering Vivi’s questions, leaps over the seat dividing the front and back areas of the van, exiting out the back doors.

“Wait, ” Vivi yells after Mystery, “get to back here and explain what happened to my memories.”

/It is not a tale that can be simply told. Not right now when we may be in danger/

Arthur thinks kitsune turned dog sounds slightly strained but it’s hard to really tell with Mystery’s weird telepathy. When the meaning of words are projected right into your brain some of the nuance is lost.

“Who is Shiromori? Why is she attacking us?” Vivi tries, following to glare at Mystery who circles the van, barely paying attention to the two of them. “Just answer one question!”

His mechanical arm twitches of its own accord and he eyes it nervously.  To hell with it. Arthur frees his hand and begins to feel about for the quick release lever hidden under a panel on his upper arm. After the van crash and almost getting thrown to his death, the arm had been too banged up to safely remove, jamming in place.  Best to be rid of it now, before everything when to shit all over again.

The sound of his heavy metal arm hitting the ashfelt draws Vivi’s attention and she turns to give him a quizzical expression.

“Better off then on,” He explains, “Wasn’t really working that well anyway. Hopefully, that’ll get rid of the curse as well.” Honestly, this cruse is the least of his worries.

Vivi exhales and Arthur can see the stress pinching her mouth, pulling it down into an uncharacteristic frown, “If the curse is specifically attached to your arm then removing it might work. On the other hand, if it’s anything like the one that got my memories then who the hell knows what will work. I certainly don’t. Apparently, I don’t know a lot of things.”

The last sentence is louder, directed at Mystery. There is no response from the dog who is staring off into the middle distance, head to one side like he is listening intently for something.  Arthur offers Vivj an uneasy shrug. He has his own questions for Mystery regarding Vivi’s memories, his arm, and the night they both went missing. However, his most recent run-in with dead-Lewis has him quickly reordering his priorities. None of the answers are going to mean much if he’s dead. Again…

Speaking of which… On the horizon, a purple light flares, glowing brightly against the dark backdrop. Arthur’s mouth goes suddenly dry and limbs feel very cold. Yeah, that seamed about right…

/You called this spirit Lewis?/ Mystery turns his head to examine him, expression troubled. /Are you sure?/  

He gives a short nod, eyes darting from Mystery then back to the road. It looks like Mystery is planning something based on how his fur is glowing red. He’d seen a similar red glow on the night of Lewis’s disappearance and during the confrontation outside his Uncle’s workshop. How much did Mystery know about Lewis? The question sticks in his mind, painfully heavy.

“Lewis? You mean the purple fire ghost? The one that caused the van crash?” Vivi steps up next to him, eyes locked onto the truck which grows quickly larger, “How are we going to stop it from running us all over?”

It’s too late to try a drive or run away now. Even if he decides to run there is a steep rocky slope on one side and a sharp climb on the other. If he did make it down by some miracle there was just flat desert and no cover for miles. Arthur doesn’t voice this observation instead commenting in a voice several octaves higher than normal, “I don’t think you need to worry about the ghost running you over. I’m pretty sure he’s only after me. So…ah…maybe don’t stand near me?”

Why? Why was Lewis trying to hurt him? In his mind’s eye, Lewis and Mystery meld together into a nightmare inferno of fire, teeth and death.

“I don’t want you to get run over either.” Vivi’s voice sounds faint, coming to him like it has travelled a great distance. Too much fear packed into too short a timeframe is making it harder and harder to concentrate. The ice at her feet thickens into long sheets, which creep out over the road, freezing it solid. He is probably lucky his remaining arm hasn’t frozen off with how tight Vivi had been holding it. Maybe if he turns into a giant Arthur icicle and he can sit this whole thing out. The hysterical thought momentarily breaks through his mounting panic.  

/Wait./

Arthur can almost hear the crackle of fire and the hum of the truck's engine.

/ You should not be drawing on so much of this power at once! You’ll damage the seal further!/

“I’m not letting Arthur die again. Anything comes near us and I’ll make whoever it is, regret it… that includes you.”

Vivi steps out so she is positioned in the centre of the road.

/I can handle this confrontation. There are still many aspects to the situation that you remain unaware of./

“And how am I supposed to fix that if you won’t tell me anything.”

/ I swear I will explain when there is more time. I only ever wanted to protect you./

“I don’t believe you.”

Vivi snaps the final sentence and punctuates it with a sharp hand gesture aimed at the oncoming truck. Several lines of ice stretch out and down the road, racing away from Vivi to meet the oncoming vehicle. Shining an ethereal blue, the frost coats the road’s surface, smoothing it over. Arthur catches the briefest glimpse of skeletal Lewis before the truck hits the ice sheets and the wheels suddenly lose traction.  The sound of metal crunching is deafening, accompanied by the hiss of water abruptly vaporising. Heat and cold collide in a cacophony cracking ice and explosion of steam.

A flash of bright purple fire. Mystery disappears, obscured by the thick columns of steam. He finds himself being yanked to the side by Vivi just in time to watch the purple truck careen past in a shower of sparks and groaning metal. At such high speeds, it rams straight into and through the guardrails separating the road from the rocky slope. Stunned, Arthur watches it disappear over the edge. If Lewis hadn’t already been dead then Arthur might have been worried. The sound of banging and crashing, as the truck presumably roles several times, has him physically wincing. Scratch that, he was worried. Very worried. Worried enough that it overtakes his mental panic and replaces it with deep concern. How durable were ghosts? He doesn’t know and that scares him. 

“Vivi! What the hell,” He finally manages to spit out, breaking his panic-induced stupor. He tries to rush past her, intent on checking for any signs of Lewis. He promptly slips. The combination of ice and his lack of a second arm throws off his balance and he ends up falling backward. He is saved from a collision with the ground by Vivi who seemed to now have supernatural levels of balance and was unaffected by the slippery surface.

“I …wow. That was… something.” Vivi breaths, examining the road still covered in planes of ice as if not quite believing it.

“Help me to the edge,” He interrupts, trying and failing to stand straight collapsing back on her, “I need to see if he’s okay,”

“Who’s okay? The ghost?"

“Yes.”

"You want to see if the ghost is okay? You said it was trying to hurt you?”

Arthur can practically see the concern and confusion now hanging over Vivi as she looks down from where she's holding him up by his one good arm.

“It’s just…a misunderstanding or something. I…we…might know this ghost.”

“What?”

“Just help me check.” He motions with his remaining arm. Visible through the plums of steam are thicker lines of darkened smoke coming from the space where the truck had disappeared.

....

Note: I’m Sorry to everyone who’s showed interest in this AU but i’m not sure if i’ll continue this since i’ve lost motivation.  Here are some of the more coherent plot notes if people are interested in this AU. Feel free to ask questions if u have any :) . 

...

-   Shiromori shows up directly after Lewis’s crash, distracting Mystery. With all the steam obscuring their vision Arthur and Vivi don’t realise that Shiromori has arrived immediately, and there is enough time to briefly look for Lewis. 

- Lewis makes it out of the truck crash only slightly worse for wear and tries to attack Arthur. Vivi moves to defend Arthur, then Arthur has to defend Lewis and it’s all very awkward for everyone. 

- Lewis sees how scared Arthur is a reconsiders his revenge plot, hesitating long enough to get some dialogue in. 

 - Arthur finally gives Vivi a brief Lewis overview (sans the whole ‘he almost threw me off a fake cliff thing’). Vivi is suspicious and somewhat unconvinced. Lewis is slightly confused when Vivi starts referring to the alternate time line. 

- Not time for further discussion because Mystery is fighting Shiromori and, since he had warning this time, he’s winning. 

(fight scene stuff. Vivi rushes in to do something idk this part is not planned.) 

Vivi overused ice abilities. 

Lewis and Arthur have a moment alone. 

Vivi, slightly untrusting of Mystery, ends up stepping to stop the two from fighting. (Vivi ends up saving  Shiromori maybe??? a parallel  to the original timeline). A dramatic moment where Vivi rushes in ( maybe takes a blow for Shiromori idk would depend on Shiromori’s backstory) and ends up injured. 

- ??? makes an appearance, takes over Vivi instead of Mystery. 

Some background world building stuff

- Vivi’s ice powers might become unsealed and she is vulnerable to ??? (spiritual energy is damaging to humans if too much is used at once or if is not used correctly)

- Yukino family are spiritual channels making them both more powerful and more vulnerable. Mystery holds a seal to the ability and it eats up a tails worth of power to maintain. Same deal with Shiromori, Mystery holds a seal to keep her fully realised abilities in check which also eats up a lot of power.

- The seal is damaged when Mystery is hurt

- Arthur is unaffected by the ice because he’s got some odd time based supernatural power which has bonded to vivi spiritual signtaure as well. This is the reason ??? want to possess Arthur. One possible resolution was for Arthur to figure out how to rewind time to the seconds before Vivi gets possessed, giving her a chance to defeat ???. It takes a lot of power which Lewis ends up giving to him. 

[maggies-scribblings]

Ladynoir, thinking post-reveal pre-relationship but idk whatever makes you happiest: “I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.”

I decided to make it a continuation of this. Hope you like it, and sorry it took me so long. 

Ass-kicking

It was the first Saturday afternoon after the night they found out about their identities, and Adrien and Marinette were at the Historical Library. They were working on an ongoing History project with Alya and Nino, meeting there every weekend.

“Oh, great!” Marinette huffed, looking at her phone screen. “They just bailed.”

“Really?”

She showed him the message on her phone. 

[Alya] Hey sweetie, sorry, we can’t make it today. Nino’s family is away and I need to help him with his French homework.  

“French homework, huh?” Adrien said as he returned the phone.

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

“There will probably be French involved,” he quipped, waggling his eyebrows, “but definitely not homework.”

Marinette had to cover her mouth as she snorted. 

“How about we investigate that other subject?” he leaned over the table and whispered conspiratorially. 

The library was mostly empty, but Marinette still shushed him. 

“What? Here?”

“Where else? We can check out books about ancient languages, history…”

“Hmm… I don’t know… what if someone sees us? Won’t it be suspicious?”

“We’re still working on a project, right? I know! You’re applying for fashion internships in the summer, right?” She nodded. With a playful smirk, he pointed at himself with his thumbs. “Who better to help you with a fashion presentation than your friend, the actual haute couture supermodel?”

Marinette giggled softly while Adrien winked and made finger guns, in full-on Chat Noir mode. Her laughter made his heart sing. 

“Okay, actual supermodel. Where should we begin?”

A few weeks later… 

[Alya] Hey there gorgeous! Girls’ lunch today? 

[Marinette] Hey Alya! No can do, project work all day. 

[Alya] Secret project again, huh? 😉 

[Marinette] Quit it Alya, I have to go. Raincheck?

[Alya] How’s Sunday? 

[Marinette] Great! Text me in the morning. xoxo

[Alya] Yeah, right… I’ll drop by to wake you! xoxo

Alya sighed as she put her phone away. Marinette had been acting weird for some time now. Ever since that day she showed up at school with dark circles under her eyes and with a silly grin on her face, which she explained away with some excuse about good news from her Chinese relatives, and staying up late on Facetime to talk to them. 

After four years of BFF service, Alya could tell when she was making up stories… and yet, even when caught in a lie, there were some things Marinette just wouldn’t share. It was frustrating, but Alya was respectful of her friend’s privacy. Well, most of the time, anyway.

It was also weird that she was hanging out with Adrien so often, seeing that not so long ago she had trouble even maintaining a simple conversation with him. 

“Sooo, giiirl…” Alya playfully asked, before taking a bite of her kebab. “Got anything you want to share with meee?... ”

“Share?” Marinette looked genuinely confused. “What about?” 

“Don’t play innocent with me, sweetie. You thought I wouldn’t notice you and Adrien sneaking around on breaks, going to your place after school?”

Marinette’s reaction was even stranger. Instead of her usual sputtering and denial, she coolly replied they were working on a project together, refusing to add any other details. And yet, Alya couldn’t resist some gentle teasing.

“So, does this… erm… project include any nookie?”

“A-Alya!” There she was. Blushing, stuttering Marinette. “No-nookie? No! This is strictly professional!”

As it was, Marinette refused to discuss the project any further, except to add it had something to do with fashion and her application for summer internships with established designers Adrien knew. It was the exact same explanation Nino had heard from Adrien… almost verbatim. Her reporter's sixth sense was tingling, but she let it go. If her best friends were seeing each other in secret there probably was a good reason for it. 

“Alya’s on to us.”

“What!?” Chat Noir almost spit out his palmier. “She knows?”

Ladybug shook her head and corrected herself. 

“No—not that! I mean she’s not buying the story about the…”  she gestured air quotes, “‘fashion project’!”

“Oh. That.” After licking his fingers, he took another cookie from the box Ladybug had brought to patrol. One of the best perks of the job, and now much more frequent. “Nino was also acting weird about it.”

“What do you mean, acting weird?”

“He was all like, oh, you dog, finally saw the light, took you long enough, whatever.”

Ladybug swallowed her juice quicker than she should, breaking into a coughing fit. Chat Noir tapped her back, which was no help at all but made him feel like he was doing something. As the coughing stopped, the pats turned to gentle rubs. 

“He did?”

“Yeah, he was so… smarmy about it. Like he knew something I didn’t.”

“Huh.” Ladybug scooted away from him and went very quiet. 

“Are you alright?”

“I… I just need a minute, okay?”

Adrien was confused by her reaction. Sure, things were different after that night. Since then, Ladybug seemed slightly more restrained around Chat Noir. Although he had toned down his banter, she seemed more embarrassed whenever he made some flirtatious joke. 

The civilian side of their lives was altogether a different story. After a few days of mutual awkwardness, working together on the grimoire brought them closer than ever. 

Of course, they had been friends for a long time — well, except for that time in the beginning, when she had been so uncomfortable around him. The gum incident when they met was probably a bad start, and there had been ups and downs between them ever since. He even asked Nino if she had something against him, but he wasn’t any help. 

Eventually, that bashfulness faded as they grew older. Marinette started going out with Luka, much to the joy of their mutual friends and his own inexplicable chagrin. Adrien and Kagami were also dating within the confines of their controlling, yet approving, parents. After that, whenever they hung out there was a relaxed familiarity that made her open up more, and Adrien considered her one of his best friends. 

Now that he knew she had been Ladybug all along, he couldn’t help but feel the bitter twinge of regret. What would—could—have happened if he knew then what he knew now? 

“You really don’t know why Nino teased you?”

“No—I don’t.”

“They think we’re, you know, dating in secret.”

“What? Why? They think you’re cheating on Luka?”

“No! Not cheating… Luka sorta dumped me six months ago.” 

“Luka dumped you?” Adrien was totally confused. How could anyone dump Marinette? “I’ll kick his ass if you want me to, Milady.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” she chuckled sadly. “It wasn’t working out anyway.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, you know. He has his music, I have all of this,” Ladybug sighed, pointing at her suit. “He wanted me to be more present, and I just couldn’t. It’s like we were always out of sync.” 

“—out of sync,” Chat Noir ended the phrase with her. “I know what you mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was the same with Kagami,” he admitted. “She wanted to do, you know, couple things, when I was exhausted from all of this. She needed me to be there for her. By the seventeenth time I ditched her during an akuma alert with a lame excuse, she was done and ended everything.”

“You still seem hurt about it.”

“I think I’m over it now,” he shrugged. “It’s been almost a year. I just couldn’t be the kind of boyfriend she needs and deserves, so…” 

Ladybug was silent for some minutes. When she spoke, Chat Noir jumped a little. 

“I can’t believe she dumped you,” she said indignantly. “She was so in love with you…”

“How do you know that? She’s usually so reserved.”

“Well, besides it being written all over her face when she was near you? She told me. Well, actually she told Ladybug.”

“She told you that? When?”

“Oh, it was a while ago, the last time she was Ryuko. She said you were made for each other.” 

“Oh yeah, when you saved her from Heart Hunter. They were after people who were in love.”

Ladybug cringed with embarrassment, then sighed and straightened her back, psyching herself up.  

“I—I need to be honest with you, Adrien… I didn’t exactly save her. I chose her that day because I was jealous.”

Chat Noir nodded, but she wouldn’t look at him. 

“Jealous?” he cleared his throat. “Of… me?”

“Yes.” She uttered a sad chuckle, shaking her head. “I was so confused back then. So tired. I liked Luka, but I was so obsessed with Adrien-you, and I was trying not to like Chat-you. Then you and Kagami looked so happy that day… I tried to walk away, but jealousy got the best of me.” Ladybug covered her face with her hands. “I made so many stupid decisions that day. I almost ruined everything.”

Chat Noir pulled her into his lap and hugged her. 

“Hey… hey… It was a tough time for all of us, with Hawkmoth chasing Master Fu—”

“—and I led him straight to where Master Fu was! It was all my fault.”

“No.” He gently lifted her chin to meet her eyes. “It’s all his fault. Hawkmoth’s the one who’s caused all this. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Ladybug nodded, sinking into his arms and pulling him closer. 

“You can always count on me when you feel overwhelmed,” Chat Noir whispered, kissing her forehead. “Or if you need me to kick some ass.” He felt her chuckling softly into his shoulder. “Now you always know how to find me. Any time, day or night, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And we’ll talk about that other thing another day. I’m still annoyed with our so-called best friends and their teasing.”

“Okay.” This time there was a hint of laughter in her voice. “Please don't kick their asses.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t… Now, let’s clear this up so I can take you home.”

To be continued? Let me know! 

Thanks to @chanceuseladynoire,  @zenmisery and @nomolosk for the beta read.

Asked for a sequel and/or to be tagged: @miraculous-elcie-fanfics @ao3bronte @bowser14456 @alexseanchai @delectablycoolscientist @lecolibribleu @omgpercabethadrinette @damelicorne

[helenaklein]

Heya, i come across your blog while talking about nelroche etc. I never know anything about l&l since i never play lovestruck, can someone give explanation which part that is similiar? While idk anything about lovestruck, I found their previous work also has similiar with manga yana of the dawn (which i have read the manga, and yes, they are pretty similiar to called it just coincidence).

okay so fair warning... this is long as fuck because there are more similarities than there are differences lol. also as a disclaimer i’m only invested in this whole thing insofar as it entertains me but if the “””””creators””””” want to fight me because i wrote this post.... they’re welcome to but i promise i’ll have more fun than they will lmfao

l&l’s about a young woman from a major city in our world who one day gets sucked via magical portal into a fantasy world filled with magic and races that are only fiction in ours. once there, she gets mistaken for their most notorious war criminal, an insanely powerful witch who committed a genocide and is center of a cult of worshipers willing to kill and die for her.

this is nelroche’s description, straight from their devblog:

now, if it was a matter of similar basic premises and setups, i’d write it off as coincidence and tell the anons who made me aware of this that i thought they were overreacting. after all, “normal-human sucked into medieval world” and even “mistaken identity” are both very well established tropes that have been done and done again and will continue to be done because many find it compelling. hell, i do too. honestly, if the devs had simply said that they drew inspiration from love & legends, i’d have understood.

but.

the similarities only begin there. and they only get more excessive. coupled with their adamant denial that they’ve never even read it....... it’s just not possible lmfao. even if they decided to change the physical appearances of the characters, the tropes behind them and their personalities are exactly the same.

the nelroche demo has:

1) the lord of a region who’s a massive workaholic to the point of self-detriment, but is very caring towards their people and their inner circle and whom everyone in the group has referred to as a parental figure.

aka.... l&l’s reiner wolfson, who’s described directly from the app as “Reiner is a fair and compassionate ruler who would defend the people of the human domain with his life.”

2) the prickly knight to said lord, who’s fiercely dedicated to their liege, very serious in personality along with stubborn and prideful, but cares deep down once you get past their walls.

literally l&l’s august falke. the demo describes them, literally as “...reminds me of the knights in the fairy tales, except, it seems, not quite as charming” whereas august’s in-app description reads “This knight in shining armor is more aggressive than the story books led you to believe...” I’ll let the similarities there speak for themselves.... lol

3) the energetic and bubbly mage who’s super tiny compared to their companions and avoids serious discussion, who happens to be a bit of a trickster and has a mysterious quality.

l&l’s altea bellerose but make it less pink! altea and “C”s similarities go even deeper but i’ll get into that a bit later.

4) the mysterious and heterochromatic-eyed figure who’s distrustful and initially stand-offish as a result of living through a life of hardship, that is excitable and actually loves to travel.

look no further than l&l’s saerys! M’s eyes are “ocean blue and purple” compared to his blue and red, but don’t let that difference fool you! their introductions are laughably similar (more on that later)... and the “travel” bit lmfao. not to be mean but they couldn’t at least change up his hobbies? come on now, work for that plagiarized bag!

5) the lazy and flirtatious one who’d rather spent their days joking and taking it easy than handling their many responsibilities, who does care but shows it in ways unconventional.

just because their hair is grey instead of white doesn’t mean it’s not l&l’s iseul idreis, babes! i’d know that endlessly frustrating man anywhere! lovestruck’s app description for him reads: “The elven prince is beautiful and cunning with a silver tongue, but his lackadaisical lifestyle leaves much to be desired”. corporate wants you to find the difference between these two pictures they’re the same dot jpg.

6) the complicated and slender blonde who wields both blade AND magic, whose eyes glow, whose power is deemed dangerous, who wears shades of blue, AND is initially described as cold? who seems like she wants to beat the hell out of her compatriots, who she seems to lead, and whose outfit is needlessly complicated?

you think i don’t know a knock off helena klein when i see one???? ME???????? helena’s in-app description LITERALLY reads “cold as ice” and “wielding both sword and sorcery with ruthless precision”!!!!! of alllllllllll the things i’m most offended by this one motherfucker you can’t just fuck around with helena on a whim okay this shit is personal now!!!!!!

7) the creepy, predatory, and combative pale-but-tanned-but-murky-skinned dude who wears robes and a creepy beast mask.

l&l’s jinhai jubal i know it’s you!!!! actually this is probably the funniest thing of the whole situation to me bc this dev decided to remove not-alain as a love interest and seemingly replace him with not-jinhai. secondary poster you a hilarious bitch i’m not gonna lie.

(here’s jinhai in his mask lmfao)

8) the mouse-looking man who seems not as confident as not-helena and not-jinhai, wears full armor AND a double-sided sword strapped to his back.

none other than l&l’s alain richter, back from the dead! im gonna let the next image speak for itself.

still with me? i sure hope so bc it really gets juicy now!!!!! the similarities don’t end with the characters!!!! no, no, no!!!! the plot and progression of the demo are identical to that of l&l’s pilot episode, beat for beat.

in the l&l pilot episode, after the mc stumbles through the portal and into the medieval town, she’s almost immediately accosted by august, a rude mf who essentially acts not very knight-like despite his appearance and forces her into the nearby castle’s dungeon.

once inside the dungeon, the l&l mc is approached by a figure with hetero-chromatic eyes, who seems intrigued and confused by the mc’s lack of knowledge about the fantasy world.

once that person leaves, in comes a bubbly woman who seems to be floating. she asks mc if she’s ready to get out of the dungeon, and mc is like!!!! finally someone willing to help me. only..... uh oh.... she takes her to her lord instead of freeing her, wtf!!!!

once brought to the lord, who seems much more calm and reasonable than his high-strung and feisty knight, he listens to mc’s story and seems to believe her somewhat, but doesn’t want to risk his people.

(he’s even standing at the window LMFAOOOOOOOOO)

then the last remaining figure (iseul) playfully suggests that the lord (reiner) allow the mc to pick which among the group she’d like to guard her while they all determine whether or not she’s being truthful about not knowing anything. this is literally! literally! LITERALLY! how the PILOT EPISODE! of LOVE AND LEGENDS! ENDS!

ARE YOU SERIOUS LMFAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOO. going through all this is literally fucking HILARIOUS to me like ak;sdfjadsfkl;asdfjlasdf how BOLD and BRAVE do you have to be to so blatantly rip something off and then deny even ever encountering what you stole from adsfkjldfasdfkasd,f. i’m not even super mad bc like.... i torment voltage for funsies. but! LMAO!!!!!!!!

lastly..... as an added bonus to all of the juicy, juicy evidence above. l&l mc has a best friend in the “real”, modern world, who inexplicably has a lookalike in the fantasy world. well..... would you believe it if i told you that the nelroche has one just like it???

that’s right! even sophie and solaire made the plagiarism cut! gotta love those girlies, i’m so happy for them :)

the end!

[lady-plantagenet]

if you’re still doing those: edward iv / elizabeth woodville for the ship bingo 🕊x

I’m so sorry, this whole past week has been one massive mental breakdown and I have been finding it incredibly hard to do anything besides uni assignments and writing. Also, I have a lot to say about these two so I didn’t want to half-ass it.

Some Comments:

I don’t know if I told you this but this used to be my OTP, like years ago when I first got into this era and did not think/know much about Clarence and the others. But now it’s no longer the case and that’s not necessarily because it got replaced by gisabel per se but because I’ve always found it extremely hard to reconcile myself with the infidelity aspect. Even when I was more childish I felt a bit dissapointed in the fact that he didn’t appoint her (or Anthony) regent, like obviously now I understand why it was to an extent untenable politically, but back then my younger mind just saw it as ‘he trusted his brother more’, which kind of threw a wrench. So much for the ‘it’s complicated’ square. The problem with long marriages is that the delicious aspect tends to wane, and that can’t be helped in a 20 year long marriage! But obviously the 1464-1470 years taken into isolation... well... it was the epitome of delicious, sexual and romantic. You might find me pointing this out wierd given that I didn’t make the same remarks on Catherine of Valois and Owen Tudor who were also a pretty long marriage, it’s just that... in my mind they kind of stagnate age-wise even as they advance past their twenties because the whole narrative (historical and fictional) around them focuses on the first years of their union and the tribulations, whereas Edward and Elizabeth have a presence way past that as they were after all monarchs and never at one point left to live a quiet life and were no longer chronicled - so in that way they age before our eyes. And with that age you see the infidelity issue get worse, together with Edward’s greater promotion of Gloucester, his drinking, eating etc issues and it starts painting a sad image into my mind of like idk a love that at one point stopped being what it once was and could never again be - like the embers burning out? This turns the what could have been a obbsessive unhealthiness borne from passion into another caused by disillusionment? I don’t put too much stock into this, personally I feel the change in Edward was caused by other external factors and not Elizabeth herself eg Warwick and Clarence’s betrayals and deaths, the massive burden of fixing the previous administration’s mess etc. Nevertheless, Elizabeth on her own did not seem to be enough to drag him out of it and prevent some of his unhealthy habits. I do realise it’s a bit too much to ask for though.

Nevertheless, I do see them as soulmates, she seemed like one of the only people who could keep up with him in will and wit (though Jane Shore seemed quite a competitor in this regard) I’m not the type of person who thinks Edward was dominated by his lust, and I think based on that venetian letter (you know the Ziglio one XD) and the fact that it said that Edward loved her for a long time before marrying her, it was clearly a decision from the heart not the *ahem* codpiece. Also a part of the soulmate/star-crossed trope is the whole ‘they defied all odds, they withstood opposition’, and Liz and Big Ed are famously that. I would totally read fic for this but surprisingly there aren’t many! I honestly don’t know how come?? Like yes they do appear in a lot of histfics and the like, but apart from TWQ they are never the central focus, and even there we don’t get enough of them (which really irritates me). Some write me some!! I am intrigued by the pairing but extremely picky when it comes to how they are written because I have particular headcanons which I am fairly wedded to but do not expect they will be abided by. More in the pragraph below.

The Ship:

I absolutely can not stand portrayals of Elizabeth Woodville as a golddigger, much less some Marilyn Monroe type of bimbo. We know the type of beauty she had... a chronicler called her an excellent but solemn (or sthing like that) beauty where York in his letters to her for the marriage of Sir Hugh complemented her deep sorrowful look or such. She was a pious, economical woman who took her queenship extremely seriously and led a cultivated court, patronised literature and may have also written a poem herself (you know the one about Venus we spoke about). She was years older than Edward and on top of that a widow with two children of her own. I want to see that dynamic! I want to especially see how she drew Edward away from Warwick’s influences in order to put him on the path he was angling for: the statute of livery 1463 and the new sumptuary laws (that most famously restricted the length of piked shoes to 3 inches hhh) are very indicative of a king who (even before meeting her) wanted to install a strong centralised monarchy with a monopoly on violence and its laws. Not because of some rapaciousness on her part but because her and her family believed in him, experienced the exequies of war and wanted to put a stop to it. I want her to love Edward for putting an end to people like Warwick who caused all her family’s (and the gentry class as a whole) misfortunes and struggles, and in a way feel like she provided him with not only a circle of people who would help him realise this but also with a sort of family to soften the personal blow that he felt when part of his birth family betrayed him. I love the father-in-law becomes surrogate father trope (as I think you can tell) and I like to see Earl Rivers as that for him, hell you can take it even further and make Jacquetta as some sort of mother-figure for him as opposed to Cecily who apparently scorned the marriage and at that time seemed to side more heavily with George. I like to think under her influence she empowered him to act more ruthlessly in pursuit of his goal, but at the same time I think that while certain things were good in the long-term eg Clarence’s execution, (maybe Desmond’s??) they may have had a toll on the relationship later on. I headcanon Elizabeth as tragically hardened by the loss of her brother and father at Edgecoat and I think that may also have thrown a bit of a wrench into their love, given how she was faced with the violent consequences of being queen and afterwards with how Warwick and co. went free and she lost her chance of vengeance. I don’t think they were ever out of love though, especially judging by how she continued to be pregnant up to 3 years short of his death and the absolute trust he put in her. But I headcanon his attachment to Jane Shore as him seeking the light-hearted wit and lively banter that Elizabeth slowly started losing as the years went on and she became less vivacious and a tad more calculating and icy. I headcanon them as having a rift when it came to dealing with problems: she would keep on with her ministrations whereas he would just want to engage in escapisms. But the thing with the infidelity is that one should keep in mind that during that period relations would have to stop once the woman started showing, so Edward having affairs should not be read into too much tbh, perhaps it was more a type of addiction on his part like drinking and eating was - like all part of an excessive Epicureanism which he adopted to relieve himself of his stresses and sorrows (and boy were there many!), so not something that necessarily indicated he grew tired of her or whatever. Maybe she understood that and that’s why she didn’t make a fuss? But then again, the fact that there wasn’t complete faithfulness remains a personal impediment for me with this ship :// that’s just me personally.

Also the discussion we had about Mélusine and the alchemical elements and Edward IV’s own interest in such (which was used as ammunition for George when he accused Edward of engaging in dark arts to corrupt his subjects XD... yes I know très ironique)... made me headcanon him and Elizabeth bonding over this, and perhaps seeing their union as somewhat quite mystical. It would be something so interesting to explore and I think it’s a real shame that people nowadays recoil everytime they hear the word ‘Woodville’ and ‘Mélusine’ put together which is a shame because when handled delicately it could turn into something beautiful and it was certainly not a PG invention!

Also... those two have some bitchin’ fannart!

So yes, this was quite the stream of consciousness... but I do have a lot of thoughts for this couple! They were my OTP for the longest time after all.

[mego42]

207 Discussion Q’s

shout out and thank you to @pynkhues for putting these together even though she wasn’t gonna be here this week

1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!

obvs the dubby but underrated fav is Ruby and Jane in the closet, idk exactly why but I am starved for the families interacting with each other content (screw the timeline, the most unrealistic aspect of this show is that they aren’t constantly in and out of each other’s houses with ben and sara continually being called on to babysit) so this little snippet makes me levitate

2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?

the annie and noah scenes for sure. I mostly feel betrayed bc I really liked them the first time I watched (i have a lot of built in affection for sam huntington let me live) and now I’m like BEGONE FOUL BETRAYER and feel pre-emptive fatigue over annie’s taste in men and how that’s not going to get better any time soon

3. I know time does not exist in the Good Girls universe (or in reality anymore), but let’s start with a timeline question! The implication of the opening montage is that a bit of time has past since Beth strongarmed the partnership with Rio at the end of 2.06. How long do you think it’s been? And more importantly, what do you think these early days of their partnership looked like?

I tend to lean towards at least 2 months, maybe more based on:

the number of shoeboxes and how many times Beth’s shown making a closet deposit

how lived in their annoyance over Beth’s dividing her time and Rio pushing back feels

the implication (at least how i read it) that Rio’s annoyance stems from having to track Beth down which presumably implies they’d grumbled their way into a semi-functional working relationship prior (supported by their ease with each other in 208) and if the montage has only been a month, that would be a maximum of 4 meetings and I don’t particularly think that’s enough time for them to get over being extremely prickly with each other

the fact that Beth goes to Rio for help when Jane’s missing (again, to me implies a longer period of time to get over some of their antagonism than a max of 4 meets)

I imagine their initial partnership went something like Beth being a smug brat about forcing her way in, Rio being deliberately unhelpful and trying to force her to admit she’s in over her head (while still keeping enough of an eye on things that his money isn’t jeopardized), Beth stubbornly refusing to and finding ways to rise to the occasion, Rio being grudgingly impressed, Beth being annoyed with herself for how pleased she is over that. Lather, rinse, repeat until they’ve worn a cantankerous but bizarrely comfortable groove into each other.

meanwhile, Mick, Annie and Ruby are absolutely disgusted by everything happening in front of their eyes.

4. The first scene between Ruby and Turner in this episode is a really dynamic one! It’s pretty clear that Ruby’s afraid of Turner, but what do you think Turner thinks of Ruby?

I think he sees a big cartoon canister labeled "Beth Boland Bait"

5. Taking the kids to the drop was a pretty big mistake! What do you think Beth should’ve done in this instance? Do you think saying no again to Rio was an option?

CALLED BEN OR SARA FOR A BABYSITTING ASSIST. For fucks’ sake.

And yeah, I think she could’ve said no to Rio but he would’ve kept her cut of that drop and, even worse, would’ve been able to hold the fact that she didn’t deliver that one time over her head forever more.

6. The krav maga teacher offers some sage advice telling Dean to not order the hit and instead just divorce his wife, haha. Do you think that he thought the baby hitmen would come through for Dean? Or do you think he was deliberately setting Dean up to get robbed?

I choose to believe the krav maga teacher knew exactly what kind of an idiot Dean was and set him up because the dude clearly had at least two brain cells to rub together and anyone with two brain cells to rub together would never get tangled up in a murder plot with Dean standing on the street corner telling random bystanders in detail how he wants to kill the guy that fucked his wife what do you mean established means and motive Boland.

7. During Ben and Annie’s tense conversation, Ben tells Annie that she’s hard to keep track of - she’s parent mom, cool mom, sketchy mom. In a lot of ways, this feels like a parallel to Ruby talking to Beth in the last episode and calling her ‘drug Beth, gun Beth, human trafficking Beth’. What do you make of this? And how do you think it relates to the show’s themes?

I defer to @foxmagpie’s answer because I like it a lot. 

8. The scene with the girls in the house! Tell me all your thoughts please!!!

I love this scene a lot

Beth’s channeling Rio in general but also specifically in 201 you will never ever change my mind

Sometimes I lie awake at night wishing Rio had seen it

Prayer circle that he sees a version of it in s4

Can you imagine the nightmare level of boner he would get? The sheer narcissism!!

Ruby’s obvious wish for new friends is The Most Valid

I really love the main drug den guy, I love Blake Shields’s energy, it makes the scene crackle, and I wish they’d bring him back purely bc he’s gr9

9. Annie meets Noah in this episode! What do you think of their introduction to one another? And how would you rate Noah on the scale of ‘Garbage Annie Love Interests’?

at least he’s not her therapist I guess

10. Beth has two pivotal and emotionally revealing fights this episode - one with Dean and the other with Rio. How do these fights compare? And what do you think they tell us about her respective relationship with them?

UUUNNNNNFFFFFFFF

I L O V E how hard the show goes on Dean’s obsession with Beth and Rio as the primary source of his angst

the fact that he’s trying to rope Stan into murder while looking for Jane who isn’t even MISSING but Dean had NO IDEA bc instead of giving a shit he went straight to HOW CAN THIS BE THAT GUY’S FAULT

I love how clearly they delineate that it isn’t about Beth but specifically about someone else ~*~taking~*~ Beth from him and how emasculated that makes him feel (something something something the storyline opens with the krav maga guy choking him out and then telling him to divorce her and Dean being like I reject your rational and logical solution bc it doesn’t punish the man who touched my property, idk i have a half baked thought there but i can’t pull it out of my brain)

and then it’s all underscored how little Dean’s worried about Beth and her safety by him bringing her work up specifically as a gotcha (which, unless I’m forgetting something, is p much the only context Dean ever brings it up in besides maybe the sit down fight but that’s again, about Beth acting out vs genuine concern)

Meanwhile, this is contrasted with:

Beth flipping tf out at the mere suggestion Rio would ever hurt her children, showing how deeply and instinctively she trusts him in regards to her children aka what’s been established as her Most Important Priority over and over (in the same breath that she rips into Dean for losing Jane in the first place)

which is doubled down on her immediately going to Rio for help

and he is FURIOUS at her, but the thing he leans hard on isn’t how she could have jeopardized the business deal (aka his money, what’s been established as his Most Important Priority over and over) but how she jeopardized herself and how badly she can fuck up if she doesn’t take this seriously

putting himself in a vulnerable position (presumably burning a connect, letting on that Beth means something to him beyond business) to look out for Beth’s emotional well-being

And then, just to drive it home a little further, @sothischickshe pointed out the Beth and Rio fight over Beth’s self preservation is directly paralleled with Stan freaking out at Ruby over the IA stuff because he’s worried about her and I had to go and stare at a blank wall for a few minutes to calm down.

anyway, draw your own conclusions.

11. Ruby takes Jane being missing as an opportunity to try and find evidence on Beth for Turner and, in the process, finds Jane too. How do you think this scene captures Ruby’s moral dilemma? And do you think it’s a satisfying turning point in the Ruby-Turner arc?

I struggle a lot with the Turner and Ruby plot specifically because I HATE that Turner’s ruthlessly leaning on Ruby as the weak link but I’m also ferociously attracted to him so I’m less bothered by it than I feel like I should be so mostly I just try not to think about any of it.

Idk, I see it in some ways as a continuation of Ruby’s fight with Beth and Annie in s1 where Annie said she isn’t blood. They put Ruby on the outside but when push comes to shove, Ruby still puts the two of them above her own family. As far as I’m concerned, Annie still owes Ruby a massive apology for that. Beth I let off the hook a little because by the end of the season she’s ready to turn herself in to make it all go away for all of them (I think, unless I’m misremembering, which is entirely possible bc I don’t think I’ve ever rewatched all of 213)

12. RIO GETS BETH THE DUBBY!! That’s it, that’s the question. Please discuss.

I think a lot about how the gesture is so baldly honest neither one of them can face it either at all (Rio) or without taking a shot first (Beth) which, now that I’ve typed it out, is also an interesting flip of their general MO bc under normal circumstances I’d put Rio down as the one that, of the two of them, is more willing to face stuff whereas Beth’s the one that hides from it.

[lazywitchling]

You know what’s scary? I came to tumblr in the height of fandom blog vs hipster blog, when superwholock was first getting started, before Disney had a choke hold on the entertainment industry, back when it was fun to get really really into tv shows and base our whole personality on what media we consumed. Looking back on it, it was... not a great way to be, but goddamn did it save me.

Not like in a dramatic “saved my life” way, but I mean.

I could go back on my main blog and find my pro-republican posts. I could find my anti-trans posts and my “well okay, gay people can be gay at home, but I don’t want them out where I can see them.” I could find those. They’re back there, years ago in my archive. Because that’s all I knew. That’s all I heard. My community - I mean my real life one, my local area, my friends, my church group, everything around me - is very... monoculture. There aren’t a lot of people around here who don’t look like me, have the same economic background as me, raised in the same beliefs I was... it’s just a whole lot of carbon copies of me. So I thought... “ew, how can someone be gay? That’s gross. They’re going to go to hell.” Because what the hell else would I think? That’s all I knew! And I thought “that boy wants to be a girl? What’s wrong with him? He should see a doctor.” And I thought “why do some people not go to work and the government just pays for them to eat? That’s not right. They shouldn’t be lazy like that.”

And then fuckin’ fandom. It wasn’t fandom directly, but when I got really into a show, I’d follow so many blogs that posted about it. Fan art, discussions, gifs, episode recaps, ask blogs... and inevitably, some of those blogs would drop the occasional political post. Mostly about how we needed marriage equality in the USA. And I thought “well. I don’t agree with that, but their fandom content is good, so I won’t unfollow them.”

It’s how I got exposed to more and more people. People who didn’t think like me. People who didn’t think like my parents. And they weren’t just political posts, sometimes it was just blogging. An artist I like would post about finally getting started on T. He was so happy that he was finally getting T. And I started to think things like “well, she— I mean, he sounds happy. So I’m happy for... him.”

More people. More stories. And I slowly stopped thinking about other people as political issues or religious problems, but as just... people who were trying to live their lives.

It was slow, and it was rocky. I still participated in church discussions that involved phrases like “hate the sin but love the sinner”. It made sense... until college, when I was face to face with people who weren’t like me. Looking at the man in my theatre troupe who was talking about his partner, I couldn’t make the “hate the sin, love the sinner” mentality work. I just couldn’t. I knew I was supposed to, but I just knew that trying to say “he’s a good person, but he just needs to stop being gay” didn’t work at all. I couldn’t hate what he was without hating who he was. And I just couldn’t, because he was my friend, dammit!

Marriage equality passed. My Facebook feed turned into the proverbial wailing and clothes-tearing from my church friends. And I very slowly... very quietly... started to post the “let’s remember that we shouldn’t hate other people” stuff. The very subtle nudging, still Christian-focused stuff that was juuuuust starting to lean left. Not too over the top, not overtly in support, because I was supposed to be one of them, a member of the church, I had to play along with the mentality.

Playing along got exhausting. Someone would deadname Caitlyn Jenner, and I’d consider for a moment that I should just let it go, that I should just pretend that it was fine. But... what about my artist friend? Would I be okay with someone deadnaming him? No, I would not. And if I was pretending I was onboard with deadnaming Caitlyn, would I have played along with deadnaming my friend? Just so I could fit in and be comfortable? So I corrected them. Her name is Caitlyn.

I learned to listen to more people. I learned why “I don’t see color” wasn’t as good a mentality to have as I thought. I learned that “feminist” wasn’t a dirty word, and it also didn’t mean what I thought it meant. I slowly learned that I was one. I slowly learned, and still learn, how to further expand all the things that covers. I learned about intersectional feminism. I learned about white privilege. I learned about so much and so many people because I was actively listening to them, I was hearing their stories, and I cared about them, wanted them to have good lives, wanted them to be able to make choices about their own lives without people like me saying “I know better.”

I learned about myself, too. At twenty-six years old, I figured out exactly why I was always so baffled when my friends talked about sex like it was this big important thing. Surprise: asexual. A second surprise a few years later: somewhere on the aromantic spectrum as well. (Where? Idk. I’ll tell you when I figure it out myself.)

The point is... it was less than a decade ago that I was exactly the type of bigot that gets chased off everyone’s blogs. I was the everything-phobe, the one who would specifically vote against any type of aid, because bootstraps, amiright? I was a whole-ass bigot. Bitch, I owned a confederate flag ring, and I’ve never lived in the south. (It’s in a landfill somewhere now.) I only learned because I first heard from people not like me, and then I learned to listen. I participated in communities that were diverse, not because I wanted the diversity, but because I wanted the content. The diversity was a side effect. And it’s what saved me.

And it fucking terrifies me how close I could have been to being some alt-right and/or terf radical new-nazi or whatever. Because if I had got on this site about two years later than I did, I’d have been caught right in that echo chamber of radfems and nazis preying on anyone they can get their talons in. I was so close. And now I see these radfems pop up in my notes, and it’s like... that could have been me. That was me at one point. I had the ideology, I just missed the identity of it all by a few years.

I don’t have a “byf” list on my blog for a reason. I don’t go through my followers and weed out the terfs and the nazis and the bigots. If they’re in there, fine. I want them to see my words. I want them to hear from someone who doesn’t think like them. I want them to hear from someone who used to be like them, but then learned (and is always learning) to be better.

And yet when I see them in my notes, I’m obliged to weed them out. I feel guilty when it’s a young girl who has clearly been targeted by the radfems on this site, teaching her that she’ll be stronger if she hates everyone they tell her to. Of all the people on this site, she’s the one who I most want to keep out of the echo chamber. But I also have a responsibility to make sure the people who follow me, the people who I follow and reblog from, don’t get caught by the shrapnel. A radfem liking my post just means I have to pay closer attention to what I say and make sure I don’t fall back on old mentalities. It keeps me accountable. But a radfem in my notes means she’s in the notes of my friends, in my reblog chains. And it is my responsibility not to turn a blind eye when people around me can get hurt.

But goddamn, if ever there was someone who needed a community outside of that circle of bigotry, it’s that fourteen year old girl who proudly calls herself a terf. And I really hope she finds one. I really do.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door III (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part II Here

A/N: Okay, yes, I may or may not have written this in less than a day, and no, I’m not the happiest with it. Then again, I’m not exactly always happy with what I produce. As long as my works entertain others, that’s all that matters.

But anywho, I wrote this part of the series in 3rd person Omniscient for Roger because we need to know what’s going inside that tiny head of his.

Don’t forget to leave notes, show your support and interest in my pieces by sending in a reply. All support and feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

Summary: Roger and you spend dinner at the Garrisons, and Roger does some thinking.

(Again, Borhap! or Canon! Rog, whatever tickles your peaches)

WARNINGS: Swearing, slow burn, mentions of sex (nO sMuT), mentions of drugs, alcohol, overthinking(?) idk this part made me a tiny bit sad)

I’m rating this a T, but the subject matter is a little heavier than my previous parts of this fic. I would advise you to proceed with caution.

Roger stepped out of the shower, staring at his muted reflection in the foggy mirror before reaching for a towel. He took his time towel-drying his hair, and by the time he’d dried himself completely off, the steam in the bathroom dissipated just enough for him to be able to make out his facial features in that same mirror.

 At this point he reached for the blow dryer on the right side of the counter. After fully removing the vapour off the mirror with it, he used it to completely dry his hair. 

 His fingers ran through his blond strands carefully as he tried to make sure he didn’t leave anything wet. 

 As much as Roger liked his hair, he’d rather have some girl pulling on it than him. 

 But that was besides the point. 

 Roger set down the blow dryer after a while, and just stared at himself in the mirror, his hands on either side of the vanity. 

 What the fuck was he doing? 

 He decided to fake a relationship with you, (on a limb, I may add) for the benefits of having a nice place to live. 

 It sucked that his days of sleeping around were coming to an end, though he didn’t exactly mind it.

In a way, Roger loved you. But it was like… a weird love. Almost like a “you-are-my-best-friend-and-I-would-die-for-you-but-if-you-totally-wanted-to-kiss-me-I-wouldn’t-think-twice-about-reciprocating” kind of love. 

 He’d felt like this towards you since high school, but you were with someone, and he forced his feelings down by sleeping with so many women he probably couldn’t remember any of their names if he tried. 

Eventually, with all the drugs and alcohol he consumed, and all the skirts he’d been under for the last five years, that other, almost forbidden feeling towards you, was gone. 

 Well… Until now. 

 "Rog, you good in there?“ You called through the bathroom door. The sound of your voice almost had his heart jump up into his throat. He circled a towel around his waist, and opened the door. 

 You looked him up and down, and Roger could swear he saw your cheeks glow. "Damn, you’re looking good, Rogie." 

 He choked out a strained laugh, averting his eyes to the small droplets of water on his feet. "Wel-uh.. th-thanks, um… y/n." 

 You rolled your eyes, a dopey smile on your face. "And you thought I took those compliments seriously.” You squeezed past a nearly heartbroken Roger in the threshold of the door, and you reached into the medicine cabinet for your toothbrush.

“All I need to do after this is put on my lipstick, and you’re not even dressed! We’re supposed to be over there in five minutes!" 

 This had Roger disappearing immediately into the second guest room on the left, the one you decided would be his room after he forfeited the master bedroom over to you. 

 You just shook your head before shoving your tooth brush into your mouth.  

_______________________________

"Just… be calm." 

 "I am calm. You’re the one that’s not calm." 

 "Why would I tell you to be calm if I’m not?" 

Roger was about to respond just before Anna opened the door. Roger and you immediately slapped painfully wide grins on your faces, and greeted the older woman with a soft hello as you stepped inside. 

 "Something smells good,” Roger complimented as he removed his jacket.   "Thank you, Roger. It’s almost ready. I’d give it another fifteen minutes, and then we’ll dine.“

 Roger nodded to Anna with a smile and turned towards you. He helped you take your jacket off, and you watched as he placed the coats on an empty hook on the wall. 

 He faced you again, and winked. He reached down and grabbed your hand, giving it a warm squeeze before you were both led further into the Garrison’s home. 

 Anna encouraged you both to take a seat on the sofa while she continued watching the food. 

 "Charlie kept an eye on the casserole while I grabbed the door. He’ll be out in just a minute, loves." 

 "Take your time,” you called to her as she made a beeline to the kitchen, leaving Roger and you alone. 

 Roger pursed his lips, twirling his thumbs in the sudden, and awkward silence. He took this time to examine the tidy, well-furnished home. 

 He began silently counting all of the framed photographs on the wall. 

He came across one of Anna and Charles. It seemed to have been an older one compared to some of the others. They were in wedding attire, Roger guessed, from the thirties or forties, the newlyweds brandishing bright, and ecstatic grins. 

He couldn’t help but smile back at the photograph. 

He didn’t feel as if it were a necessity to get married, but he wished he would find pure elation being with you. 

 It didn’t matter if he could never properly marry you; if he discovered you were never in love with him in the first place… or even if things did turn out that way; he just saw you. No one else. 

It had to be you. 

Roger’s eyes flitted to the right when Charles returned from the kitchen. 

 "Sorry to keep you kids waiting,“ he said sincerely, sitting down in his living room chair. 

” ’S no rush, Mr. Garrison,“ Roger assured him. 

No one really decided to say anything after that. It was silent for a few second too long, and Charles laughed a little. 

"Geez, are you guys uncomfortable? You both look tense. You’re good here. You can relax. Been a long day for you two–" 

"Charlie?" 

"Oop– Excuse me," 

Charles pardoned himself from your presence to see what his wife needed. 

You sighed heavily, and Roger’s head began to spin. 

 How could this look more natural…? 

 ”… hey um…“ Roger mumbled gently, successfully grabbing your attention, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

Roger licked his lips, his hand slowly lifting and moving to hover just over your knee. His eyes refused to look back into your own.

You caught sight of his hand in your peripherals, and after looking downwards, you glanced back up at Roger. 

"Is uh… is it okay If I…?” 

You simply nodded, and Roger sighed in relief, his hand lowering onto your leg. You shifted the smallest bit closer to him, and you smiled a little at how embarrassed he was to be touching you like he would with any other girl.

You placed your hand affectionately over top of his when he started rubbing circles on your pant leg with his thumb. 

Your cheeks were a pretty shade of pink, and Roger’s were, too. 

Charles returned from the kitchen just then. “She "lost her glasses”. They were right on her face and neither of us even noticed until she saw herself in the window!“ 

You and Roger laughed along with Charles in regards to his wife’s antics. 

"But enough about her, I see her every day. Tell me more about you. How long have you had this one for, Roger?" 

The drummer smiled at you, taking a moment to himself to search your entire face for an imperfection; maybe a loose eyebrow hair, some smeared makeup, lipstick on your teeth, or even an ugly zit he could make fun of you for later. But there was nothing wrong with you. 

He couldn’t find one thing on your entire face he didn’t like. 

"I wish I could tell you I’ve had her forever, Charles…" 

You looked into his eyes. There was something… not quite right. 

It was the way he was looking at you.

He’d never looked at you like that before. 

 Not with that much adoration; and never, did you ever think, you’d describe Roger’s tone as "dripping with affection”. At least, not when he spoke of you. 

“It’s been about five years.” Roger concluded. “Best years of my life." 

"And the fact you’re still going strong makes me very happy,” Charles mused, his eyes shining with joy. 

 "Things’ll get even better. Wait until you’re married and have children!“

That statement had your blood run ice cold, and you could swear Roger’s eye twitched at the word.

Children.

"I remember when my wife told me she was pregnant. It was one of the greatest days in my life, though their actual births and my wedding day are easily the top two." 

 You opened your mouth, but no words would come out. You cleared your throat and tried again. "Uhm…” Charles turned your way. “We never really um…” you took a deep breath and tried again. “Well, we’ve never really sat down and really… discussed whether or not we even want kids.”

“No um… we just… can’t see ourselves as parents. To a baby. With our face. It just seems so… surreal.”

“Roger,” The blond swallowed, and nodded to Charles in acknowledgement. 

“Becoming a father is so rewarding. Wait ‘till you have a baby girl or a little boy, and you hold 'em in your arms for the first time. All that doubt will just wash away. Anna and I were so confident in our parenting skills, we had four more little ones!”

You couldn’t imagine having more than just one child, let alone five, or any of Roger’s, for that matter. The concept was so foreign to you, especially when it’s suggested that the father of these kids is the man who purposely puts the toilet roll on backwards because, and only because, it pisses you off.

Anna called the three of you to the table, cutting the conversation short, though you were relieved to get your mind off how hilariously ridiculous it sounded that you were sort of expected to give birth to Roger Meddows Taylor’s offspring.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t shake the idea. He spent the whole dinner on auto-pilot, trying to imagine how a child could share both his and your features. 

He watched you a lot during dessert, trying to decide his favourite part of your face, something that he would be happy for your hypothetical child with him to be graced with.

But much like earlier, he realized he loved your face so much, he couldn’t make an ultimate decision.

Much like you, Roger thought the concept was close to impossible, as well.

He didn’t want to come down with a “Baby Fever”, so he took the next chance he could to talk about something distracting. The subject was averted to music, and Roger’s drumming and things like that.

He was just glad his subconscious wasn’t focused anymore about which room in the condo would hypothetically be the baby’s.

_______________________________

“Thank you for inviting us over, Anna. That was the best casserole I’ve had in my life. Just don’t tell my mother.” Anna laughed at your joke, and teasingly assured you she wouldn’t.

Roger, after helping you put your jacket back on, held the door open for you, and after saying your final good byes to both Anna and Charles, the both of you were left alone in the cool summer night.

Your slow walk down the drive with Roger was very quiet. You two didn’t say anything.

You both took slow, careful steps towards your new home, two pairs of eyes searching the sky for constellations.

Roger’s hands were stuffed into his jean pockets, and you had your arms crossed over your chest.

He expected you to start rambling about how much of a disaster the entire visit was, and how there was certainly not enough casserole for left overs as Anna suspected, but you said nothing.

So he said nothing.

Roger climbed the stairs up to your front door, and unlocked it, wordlessly holding it open for you. You just nodded in thanks, and stepped inside, Roger close behind.

That’s where you both disbanded. You went right upstairs, leaving Roger alone in the dark front corridor. He just sighed, and locked the door as his eyes fixed to the blackness of the room.

He went straight to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. There were a few beer bottles in the fridge, and he reached for one, twisting the cap off with his shirt before taking a swig.

He shed his jacket and tossed it on the couch before sitting in the chair on the other side of the living room, and propping his feet up on the ottoman.

Upstairs, he could hear the tub’s faucet running. You were showering.

Taking another sip of his beer, Roger decided to wait until you were out of the shower and in bed before he went upstairs. 

 "… Rog?“

Roger’s eyes snapped open and he sat up with a start, gaze shooting to the hand on his arm.

Your hand.

Roger exhaled, and rubbed his tired eyes, his brain registering that you’d turned some of the lights on.

"Scared the bloody ‘ell outta me, y/n,” He slurred groggily, rubbing his forehead and combing his hair back with his fingers.

“I’m so sorry! I went to knock on your door and you weren’t in there!" 

 "I was waitin’ here for you t’ go t’ bed…” he must have fallen asleep, you thought as you rubbed the side of his arm.

“Well I was checking in on you to let you know the bathroom was free if you needed in." 

” ’M fine, Love. Thanks, though.“ He removed his feet from the ottoman, and rubbed the back of his neck, a number of empty beer bottles falling from his lap and onto the carpet below.

”… I swear I only 'member grabbin’ one.“ 

”… You go upstairs, okay? I’ll put you to bed.“ You bent down and started picking up the bottles.

Roger, who was on his feet, and turning the corner, stopped to watch you. He counted every bottle you picked up off the floor.

The higher the number, the guiltier he felt.

By the time you picked up five, Roger was already gone, upstairs and changing into some nighttime clothes.

He blindly chose his clothes, the combination being a pair of checkered pants and a Rolling Stones t-shirt.

He didn’t even bother trying to make an effort to get up and brush his teeth. He just climbed into bed and shut his eyes. 

But as promised, you walked into his room, and sat on his bed.

”… Roger, you know I didn’t hear the faucet running.“ 

 That’s how easily convincing you were to him: Seconds later Roger was in the blinding luminescent light of the bathroom, you sitting behind him on the edge of the bathtub as he drunkenly brushed his teeth.

"Spit, rinse, and I’ll meet you in the room.” You rubbed his back gently before leaving him alone in the room. 

Roger removed the brush from his mouth, and stared at himself in the mirror, toothpaste froth lining his lips and dripping down his chin in an almost comedic manner. 

Roger thought the froth kind of looked like facial hair. He even giggled a little at the idea of him maybe one day having a beard.

But then his smile disappeared, and he wiped his mouth off. Although he remembered only drinking one, he knew why he drank so much more. 

 Those thoughts about you were returning. The more time he spent with you, the more giddy he’d feel, and the more close he’d want to get. 

Roger wondered how he used to be able to teasingly slap your ass and make sexual jokes with you all the time without feeling at the very least flustered with his own actions.

He did it in front of the band all the time when you were around, but it was like he was in high school again.

He always had the urge to kiss you at least once before he died. The constant suppression over the last few years buried that urge six feet under, but it seemed the suppression wasn’t working anymore.

What if, Roger thought, this would be different? He technically had no reason to suppress any feelings he had towards you; well, maybe except for dignity purposes, but that was all.

What if luck and pre-destiny existed, and his chance to be with you just so happened to be now, under these awkward circumstances that would overall result in a blissful future with nothing but happiness…

But why would someone like her want to be with someone like you?

With the depressing thought hanging over him like an obedient rain cloud, he shut the bathroom light off, and moped to his room, where you sat in wait. 

You helped Roger climb into bed, and you tucked him in, kissing his forehead like a child.

“If you need me in the night, you know where I am, Blondie.”

Roger nodded, and mumbled his good nights to you before rolling over.

When his bedroom door closed, Roger opened his eyes despite not being able to see anything in the room. 

He blinked. 

 At the beginning of this commitment, pretending to be with you seemed like a piece of cake to him… 

 … But Roger didn’t know how much longer it would be until his behaviour towards you wasn’t pretend anymore.

_______________________________

A/A/N: Wow, This is a lot longer than I expected it to be, but I’m glad this part is done. I think I may write in Roger’s perspective more in this fic because he’s got lots of shit running through his mind, clearly. What are y’all’s opinions though? 

Anywho, enjoy this, I’m gonna go find something to inspire me for the next chapter.

PERMENANT TAGLIST:

@culturefiendtrashqueen​

FIC TAG LIST:

@amy-brooklyn99​ @scarsout​ @kimmietea​ @ohtheseboysilove​ @demo-wise​ @suavishowell​ @bohemianahoy​

[jadegrey711]

An Unwilling Queen (PART 2)

Dark Lord x Fem!Reader

An Unwilling Queen (Part 2)

A/N: Hello horny people so someone requested a part 2 of this one. I can’t remember or find the request since i’ve been reblogging a lot of Reylo content lol. But i finally finished this one. Idk if it's super smutty but at the end yeah it is. 

PART 1    PART 3

*NOT MY GIFS*

Word Count: 3422 

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake.

“Pleasure is not something that should make you feel shame, as your false God would have you believe Y/N. You’re mine and the orgasm I pulled from you only proves that further.” He smiled letting go of your face and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “And that’s not the only one we shall enjoy tonight. I promise you that.” He said with a growl, taking his hands from your jeans and placing them on your ass to pick you up.

“Say it again.” He growled, his sucking growing harsher against your skin, making you gasp.

“I’m yours.” You breathed, and hesitantly placed your arms around his neck, then running your fingers through his silky locks. You were rewarded instantly as his harshly sucking was replaced by his tongue lavishing the spot and returning to soft kisses. You groaned as you felt his hips rub against your creating a delicious friction against your center. You moaned, gripping his silken locks harder, nails digging in.

“I’m yours.” You breathed, and hesitantly placed your arms around his neck, then running your fingers through his silky locks. You were rewarded instantly as his harshly sucking was replaced by his tongue lavishing the spot and returning to soft kisses. You groaned as you felt his hips rub against your creating a delicious friction against your center. You moaned, gripping his silken locks harder, nails digging in.

“I’m yours.” You breathed, and hesitantly placed your arms around his neck, then running your fingers through his silky locks. You were rewarded instantly as his harshly sucking was replaced by his tongue lavishing the spot and returning to soft kisses. You groaned as you felt his hips rub against your creating a delicious friction against your center. You moaned, gripping his silken locks harder, nails digging in.

He growled pulling his lips away so he could watch her eyes roll back as he rolled his hips into yours. “That’s it my queen, if you think you know what pleasure is now wait till, I properly fuck you and eat you up.” He said as he ground his hips into you hard, making your head push harder into the pillows behind you. He loved watching you like this and decided to add to your pleasure. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to have you here? In my clutches, where you’ll stay and be my Queen. Where I can pound you into the bed and fuck you anywhere and everywhere.” He whispered into your ear rubbing his hips into yours harder, increasing the friction between you two. You groaned at his sensual words, feeling shivers run down your back adding to the building sensations in your core as your imagination played with his words, creating a vivid imagery. His hands found the top of your shirt and made to tear it in half when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

The growl he emitted, knocked you out of your lustful haze and for the first time you were reminded who you were in bed with.

“Dark Lord?” You heard Lilith's sultry voice.

“Lilith.” He hissed. “If you value your head on your shoulders you will leave at once.”

You felt shivers go down your spine and not the good kind.

Lilith entered the room. “Dark Lord I’m sorry to enter your chambers when you and your queen are…exposed. However, you are needed. It seems a couple of your demon aristocracy are running amuck and are avoiding your specific instructions about the terms of their liberation.” That was definitely coded talk if you ever heard it and your curiosity was peaked.

He looked down at you, his hips still flush with yours and kissed you, invading your mouth with his tongue and thrusted his hips against yours one more time, not caring whether Lilith watched the spectacle. Before he pulled himself away.

“I’m sorry my Queen but apparently this matter can’t be helped without my presence. I promise I will return and… finish what we’ve started here in the swiftness of manners.” He said his eyes burning into you, without the least bit of shame as he walked out of the room with no shirt and still showing just how much he desired you.

When you heard the door close, you let out a breath and clutched your chest, images of what has passed between you two in mere hours of your “capture”, making your cheeks heat in shame. How did it change so fast between you two? When did you give in so fully? Was it from the first time he touched you or maybe it was when he threatened your friends in order to get you? To claim you as his, showing that nothing and no one would get in his way when it came to you.

You shook your head, feeling your sense being clouded over again, the truth is you needed to escape. To find a way out of here, you needed to get to the Spellmans; they could help. Sabrina always knew what to do and Hilda and Zelda… You stopped that train of thought immediately. There was no way that the Spellmans could protect you from Him. Isn’t that how he got you in the first place? By threatening the people, you love. No, there had to be another way, you knew you couldn’t run from him for now; but maybe you could get a message to Sabrina and let her know that you’re okay and that you are an inside man to the Dark Lord’s operations. But how? Well you could start by snooping.

You kept off of the large bed and towards the nearby window, looking out to gauge your location but you had no idea where you could possibly be; you could be anywhere, even a whole other country. If you couldn’t find a way to escape your prison, then you needed to know more about your captor; especially his weaknesses.

You left the window and headed for the door, needing to see more of your prison, you headed down a hallway when you heard voices coming from behind a door that was left cracked open. You peaked inside and immediately saw Him and five others. He was sitting behind a large desk; larger than any desk you’d ever seen.

He had put on a shirt, but it was still open in the front, all the buttons left completely undone and making the point of putting on a shirt mute. Lilith stood next to him on one side while a tall man with dark hair and a quizzical brow stood on his other side. While three others stood in front of the desk, but they certainly weren’t humans with their spiked heads, discolored skin, and leather outfits that… you didn’t want to know what they were actually made of. They were already talking, and you leaned in closer, listening to their conversation.

“We are deeply apologetic my Dark Lord. However, we were only following your instructions.” One demon said. He kept his demeanor calm and cool.

“I told you that once you are free to roam the Earthly plane to do as your dark heart’s desire.” You felt a shiver run up your back at the thought of the three demons’ heart desires.

“However, the Spellmans are not to be touched.” He said with the least amount of enthusiasm to be discussing this topic and you leaned in even closer, your curiosity peaked.

“My King. Why should you care about the Spellmans? Said another demon.

“I don’t. Your Queen however does; and unfortunately, is a bit fickle as to wearing her crown and I’m sure that the slaughter of her acquaintances will especially warm her to the reality of being Queen of Hell.”

“My King the Spellmans pose a great threat to your rule! They are crafty witches and if your Queen emphasizes with these traitors all the more reason you should kill the Spellmans and bathe your Queen in their blood, dispatching her of her pesky humanity. Filthy thing that it is.” The last demon said with disgust and you felt a flare of anger in your chest at his words.

You looked away from the demons and back to Him, you could see he was growing impatient with them by the clench of his jaw. “Her humanity aside.” He said with a low snarl. “Killing the Spellmans will make her revolt and she has untapped power that I wouldn’t want to see wasted on the path of light and killing the Spellmans will surely tip the scales. She would be an avenging angel and crumble our empire.” He said harshly meaning he was done with the subject at hand, but the last demon still got in the last word.

“If your new Queen is so powerful and so close to the path of light, that she would crumble our empire and still clutches her humanity. I doubt her ability to rule.” The demon said venomously, and, in a flash, He was in front of the demon hand clenching his throat and lifting him up over the ground.

The demon squawked trying to get his hand off of his throat, but the Dark Lord only snarled at him; absolutely feral and tightening his grip on the demon’s throat. “You slimy worm! You dare talk about your Queen that way? The Queen of all nine circles, your ruler, and my chosen champion who will smite the world in hellfire?”

You felt confused at his words. Did he really think you held that much power? You’d never even witnessed magic until a year ago when Sabrina told you she was a witch; let alone had any true power of your own.  However, despite feeling confusion at his words, you felt something else as well; that heat in your core from before, when he’d kissed you and spoke of sensual acts. His violent actions against the demon in your honor made you wet as you watched him snarl at the demon. Suddenly, an image of Him on a throne, looking powerful and unmovable; with you straddling him for all to see popped into your head.

You sucked in a little gasp as a shiver shot straight down your core at the thought of it, making your thighs even slicker than before.  When you looked back through the crack His eyes were on yours, He was still holding the demon by the throat; but instead of you turning away you kept his gaze in return. It was terrifying and exhilarating all the same and you bit your lip hard, letting your hand roam down your body until it found the spot it was looking for, you rubbed yourself through your jeans and watched him.

In response to your reaction He squeezed the demon’s neck harder reigniting the demon’s pleas of mercy.

“Apologize, for speaking such hatred against your Queen.” He commanded, never breaking eye contact with you as you continued to rub yourself.

“I-I-I-” The demon choked out, but He didn’t alleviate the pressure of his hand against the demon’s throat an inch. “I apologize my Dark Lord. I will never say another treacherous word about our Dark Queen. She who will bathe the world in darkness and blood.” The demon said desperately trying to appease his King.

The Dark Lord kept your gaze, seeming to ask you if that was enough; if that pleased you. When you nodded, he dropped the demon. The demon’s brothers didn’t move an inch to help as the demon clutched his throat and violently coughed.

“Get out. Everyone.” He growled and without another word you darted from the doorway and back into the room hiding just behind the door to watch as everyone left the room including the other man that was standing next to the Dark Lord.

Who you recognized as Father Blackwood, that only meant that The Dark Lord has occupied Sabrina’s witch school which means there might be someone who can get a message to her Sabrina for you.

You opened the door and walked back down to the office opening the now closed door. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you and with a second of closing the door he was on you. Hands pressed on either side of your head trapping you.

“Who told you, you could leave our room?” He said eyes blazing into yours.

“N-Nobody. I just left.” You said almost confidently. He smiled at your attempt and leaned down to kiss your throat.

“How much did you hear, little spy?”

You decided to play smart and not mention the Spellmans. “Only that demon insulting me and you.” You said lifting up your hands and pulling at his brown locks pulling his lips away from your throat so you could kiss his cheek then kiss under his jaw. “Defending me, choking that demon near to death for insulting me; even when I wasn’t in the room.” You whispered against his throat, feeling his low groan against your lips. “Calling me your Queen.” you said before sucking at his neck, earning a louder moan in return.

It was the first time you felt you had him in your thrall but that didn’t last. As his hands dropped from the sides of your head and ran down your sides before grabbing your ass and picking you up.

Surprising yourself you obediently wrapped your legs around his torso, feeling that liquid heat from before seep into you. In one swift motion of his hand he sent everything on the massive desk crashing to the floor. He placed you on the desk keeping himself firmly in between your legs.

“Did you like it when I grabbed that demon’s throat for insulting you my Queen?” he asked, his long fingers snaking around your throat, ever so lightly. “Did you like how I made him beg for his life?” He asked his other hand, snaking in between your legs, unbuttoning your jeans, slowly. “Did you enjoy watching me?” He said a devilish smile on his face as he slipped his fingers inside your jeans feeling exactly how much you enjoyed it.

Every minute of it, even though you desperately wanted not to. You gasped, feeling his fingers move with your throat. He growled at your words moving his fingers faster, his other hand leaving your throat before grabbing your breast through your shirt and soon enough you came undone under him. But that wouldn’t be enough for him this time, he pulled his fingers from you and grabbed the hem of your shirt, ripping it all the way down and did the same to your bra leaving you half naked in the shredded remainder of your shirt. He discarded your shredded clothes across the room and into the nearby fireplace.

You looked up into his fearsome black eyes and gripped onto his silk shirt, which was still unbuttoned and parted it even further letting it slide off of his strong shoulders. Before you took his shirt and threw it into the fire making you smile triumphantly. He seemed almost taken aback by your confidence a surprised smile on his face. You took the time to examine him fully; the hard stomach muscles, the dark happy trail leading lower.

You took your hands and trailed them everywhere your eyes went feeling how soft he was under your hands. You watched in amazement as his head dipped forward a bit, enjoying your soft touches immensely. That’s when you decided to take it even farther; you leaned forward to his chest and placed a soft kiss over his heart.

“You’re so fearsome, so strong. You’d tear anyone apart who’d try and hurt me, wouldn’t you?” You said as you kissed the other side of his chest.

“I’d wipe them from the face of the universe.”  He let out a low growl, as he felt your hands slide down to his waistband. Letting your fingers ghost over his incredible length, palming him softly; teasingly.

Watching him becoming frustrated and hot under your hands, his length only getting harder under your touch you felt this surge of power go through you as you watched him completely entranced by his undoing. And suddenly your mouth was moving even before you could register the words that were coming out of your mouth.

“Say it.” You commanded softly. He looked up at you through thick lashes, but there was no mistaking his intensity. You palmed him harder and then opened his pants all together, slipping your hand inside and feeling all of him strain against your hand; you pumped him slowly like before, keeping eye contact with him.

“Say it.” you said more harshly then, taking you back to the other room only a few hours ago when he had you weak and pliant under his very own fingertips.

He let out a low growl, his hands at either side of your thighs and you swore you could hear the desk crack under his tightening grasp, making you absolutely drip.

“I’m yours.” He growled, and a bright smile lit up your face as you pumped him faster.

“Say it again.” You breathed in his ear, licking the shell of his ear.

“I’m yours, my Queen.” He said almost as a groan.

“Good.” You purred. “Now where were we before Lilith came in?” You smiled and before you could tease him further, his hands were ripping at your jeans, and he tore away your underwear with such urgency it made you moan, gripping on to his shoulders tighter. His pants easily dropped to his ankles and he pulled you roughly further down the desk and lined himself up to you, stroking himself against your dripping folds.

“My Queen the little minx.” He teased, but his eyes were dark, just as they were when he had you on his bed. “Tell me did you enjoy teasing me, commanding me, as I did you?” He breathed.

“Yes.” You gasped out, trying to move your hips against his. “Please I need you.” You whined and without another moment’s hesitation, he thrusted himself inside of you, filling you.

You both let out loud moans of pleasure as you hung on to one another. His thrusts were quick, harsh and unyielding; he dominated you and you didn’t care one bit. You were deeply under his spell, you moaned louder and it turned to a whimper as his thumb found your clit and made harsh circles, creating a sensory overload inside of you and feeling that your orgasm was coming on so fast it was sure to knock you flat on your ass.

You gripped him tighter as he pounded into you, in retaliation you clawed down his back, sure to leave marks there later. He growled at you and sucked at your neck, biting the sensitive area and suddenly without warning you dug your nails into him as you came so harshly you thought the floor vanished underneath you. He was quick to follow you in your release and you both were breathing softly, you harder then him as you still clutched onto him dearly; afraid that if you let go you would fall into an oblivion.

He purred into your ear, kissing the spot on your neck that he sucked harshly, making you wince slightly. Then he pulled away and pulled out of you, before he wrapped you in his arms and carried you out of the office; both of you still completely naked and back towards the bedroom from before.  You turned your body towards his to shield yourself from any passersby, but no one was there.

“Y/N. You obviously weren’t satisfied enough if you still give a fuck about people seeing their King and Queen in the throes of passion.” He smirked. “But I plan to rectify that by fucking you until you can’t remember your own name.”