#if he actually is interviewed or speaks then it's finish your drink

[rustinsscohles]

btw don't do a drinking game like "how many times is matthew mcconaughey mentioned/shown on screen during a texas longhorns game"

[hugsandharrystyles]

Change of Heart

Summary: Harry's a protecter, a good man. She's a shy librarian with a dog named Pickle. He can't stand her, so why does it fuck him up when he finds out she's scared of him? (Enemies-to-lovers) Word Count: 17k+ Warnings: Harry being a dick, smut

Harry always tried to be a good person.

Key word: Tried.

Growing up, it was just him, his sister, and his mother, so he always felt as a natural protector for women, not implying that women can't hold their own, but he always keeps extra lookout because he can't count all the times his mother and sister have been put in uncomfortable situations with men.

So, he can't understand why all that being said, he can't feel anything but disdain for her.

Y/N has been a part of Harry's friend group almost as long as he has, and he can't stand her. She is the fakest person he's ever met.

He remembers his sister dealing with girls like her in high school. They start off kind and sweet, but then suddenly they have everyone wrapped around their fingers and doing anything they ask. He remembers his sister crying to him about girls like her, so he can't understand why he has to entertain her presence.

He's talked to Niall, his closest friend who's also in their group, about it, but Niall doesn't see the problem. Hell, Y/N has Niall and the rest of them wrapped around her manicured finger.

He really just can't stand her.

"Y/N, tell us how your job interview went!" Harry rolls his eyes and shoots back some of his beer. It was rare that his friend group actually went out to a bar instead of gathering at one of their homes, usually because Y/N hated going out. He feels Niall hit his leg at his eye roll.

"Oh, yes! It went really well, in fact, you're looking at a professional librarian!" Y/N says, her excitement evident in her voice.

"That's so great, Y/N. I'm so proud of you!" Sarah says while the others all chime in with their own praise.

"Awesome, a job almost as boring as you!" Harry says snidely. He usually isn't so blunt, but he's had a few drinks in him.

"Harry- dude, c'mon," Mitch sighs.

"N-no, I get it," Y/N interjects. "It definitely sounds boring just saying it, but I'll be fixing binding on really old books and helping people out with-" Y/N is interrupted when Harry starts dramatically snoring. Y/N looks around the table, getting visibly embarrassed.

"Alright, H, I think you're tapped out. You're being an asshole," Niall says and tries to push him out of the booth.

"Oh, come off it. I'm just joking," Harry rolls his eyes.

"It's fine, I got the joke," Y/N tries to laugh. "I'm going to go get another drink," she says before sliding out of the booth.

"Do you want me to come with?" Sarah asks, knowing about her friend's social anxiety.

"N-no, I'll be okay," Y/N reassures her and grabs her purse before walking off to the bar. She's wearing a big sweater and jeans to a bar, and it's pissing Harry off.

"You need to fucking lay off, man," Mitch says and throws a napkin at Harry. "Just because she doesn't work with lumber and hammers and whatever else manly shit that you do, doesn't mean her job isn't any less important."

"Actually, to be correct, I am a project manager for a multi-million-dollar company-"

"Shut up," Sarah groans.

"You're so mean to her- that's not you," Mitch sighs.

"I'm not fucking mean- she's just annoying. And look at all of you, wrapped around her finger, just like she wants."

Niall goes to speak but is interrupted by Sarah reading a message off of her phone.

I'm so sorry, but I started feeling really sick, so I went home. Hope you guys have fun!

Once Sarah finishes reading the message she looks at Harry with a glare.

"Well, how the hell is she getting home? Didn't you drive her?" Harry asks Sarah.

"Oh, are you worried?" She asks with a condescending tone.

"Shut up."

Y/N thinks this is the first actual party she's been invited to. Sure she went to her fair share of birthday parties and sleepovers, but they were all PG. Never had she seen so many red solo cups in one place before. One of her friends released an EP, and they're celebrating by hosting a huge party at their apartment.

Sarah helped her pick out her entire outfit and assured her she looks amazing. Y/N has always struggled with her appearance because her parents weren't around very much. Between business trips and trying to live their own lives, there wasn't time to acknowledge their daughter. She would be dragged to their business parties, and she would just feel surrounded by a bunch of white bigoted men who thought they were superior just because they get fat checks.

When they arrived, they were immediately greeted by the stench of alcohol and weed. The apartment was crowded and loud, and Y/N was beginning to get nervous.

"Hey, it's okay," Sarah assures her, and she nods in agreement. "Let's go find our people," Sarah suggests and loops her arm with Y/N's.

"I think I see Niall," Y/N points out, and her theory was proven correct when she hears his booming laugh. It eases her nerves, and she wraps her arm around her shoulder when she finally gets next to him. He's standing with Mitch, Harry, and a few other people she's casually met before. Sarah greets Mitch with a kiss and settles into his side.

"Y/N!" Niall shouts when he finally realizes who's hugging him. He embraces her, and she can tell he's a bit drunk with the way he leans his weight on her. "I didn't think you'd come!"

"None of us did," Harry interjected lowly under his breath, but she still heard him. They hadn't really interacted since that night at the bar.

"Harry," she nods to him when Niall releases her. He barely acknowledges her before he turns back to the guy he was talking to, but he can't help the way his gaze would sometimes drift back to her. It's so annoying how pretty she can be without even trying.

Harry hates how enamoring she is.

"Harry, oh my gosh, how are you?" He hears a voice come up from behind him then feels a hand wrap around his arm. Emma. A clingy girl he hooked up with about a month ago- a good distraction from the thoughts he's facing at the moment. He wraps his arm around her shoulder as if he cares about seeing her.

"Hey, babe, I'm good," he tells her.

Y/N watches the scene and tries to limit the disgust that wants to appear on her face. Niall wonders off, and she's left alone with the pair.

"Who's this?" Emma suddenly asks Harry, as if she is entitled to any kind of ownership over Harry. He wants to be pissed off, but he also wants Y/N to go away.

"My friend's friend," Harry tells her. Y/N feels her heart pang. He couldn't even call her his friend out of convenience.

"Oh, interesting," she says, and Harry can tell she's not convinced.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N! It's actually my first party, and you're really pretty! Do you-" She's cut off by the girl who's practically hanging off of Harry's arm.

"Do you have a thing for Harry?" She asks.

"Oh! What? No- no-"

"Chill, Emma," Harry says, and Y/N almost thanks him before he continues, "Don't worry, she's the complete opposite of my type," he assures with a cocky smirk. The two laugh, and Y/N wills herself to walk away.

It's an hour and a half later, and Y/N is more than ready to go home. She's leaned against a wall, her phone dead and her head hurting. She doesn't have the strength to go find her friends, and she's kind of hurt they've all left her at her first party. She knows that this isn't about her, but she's scared and nervous, and they knew that but still begged her to come. She's just sad and scared and wants to go home.

"Hey, are you okay?" She hears someone ask in her ear, and she almost jumps out of her skin.

"Oh gosh, you scared me!" She gasps and meets the eyes of who's talking to her. He's a very cute boy who's holding a red solo cup.

"Sorry!" He apologizes and touches her shoulder with a smile. She smiles back. "I'm Ian," He introduces himself, shaking her hand in his.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you," she tells him.

"So, I take it you don't usually come to parties," He asks, and she nods.

"My first one actually," she grimaces.

"Let's go get you a drink," he suggests and takes her hand in his, not waiting for an answer before taking her to the kitchen. It's surprisingly empty when they walk in.

"I don't- I uh- I don't drink," she admits.

"Ah, c'mon. One drink won't hurt," he tries to persuade her.

"No, thank you," she says again.

"Alright," he settles. "I think this punch is non-alcoholic," he says to himself and grabs her a cup. She zones out as he pours her a cup. She thinks this guy is cute, but she really just wants to go home. She's broken out of her thoughts when a cup is being handed to her, and an arm is being thrown around her shoulder. Her eyebrows furrow as 'Ian' leans closer to her. "Are you going to say thank you?" He asks, and his tone makes her skin crawl. She laughs awkwardly and tries to shift away from him, but his hands move to her waist and his grip is too tight.

"Ah- that hurts," she tells him, but he only tightens his grip, so she can't move. "I- I want to leave," she whimpers.

"Yeah? Let's go to mine," he says and tries to lean forward to put his mouth on her.

"No- no," she says and tries to push at him.

"Just one little kiss," he tells her. Her first kiss was about to be took from her. Tears roll down her cheeks as he gets closer, but fortunately, he's suddenly being roughly pulled away from her.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Harry's loud and rough voice makes its way to her ears.

"Ay- the fuck, man? We're a bit busy," the scumbag tells Harry. "Didn't realize she was already claimed."

"A woman doesn't need to be claimed for you to not force yourself on her. Walk away, or I'm going to drown you in this punch," Harry warns, and the dude scurries off.

Harry's glare makes her want to cry all the more.

"C'mon," he says gruffly and with a gentle hand, he wraps his hand around her wrist, pulling her all the way outside and to his car. She doesn't even think twice about getting into his car and buckling. Her mind is a state of fog. Harry starts the car and rests his head against the steering wheel, his breathing rapid.

"Are you okay?" She asks gently.

"You- You're asking me if I'm okay?" He laughs condescendingly and buckles himself in before putting the car in drive.

"Well, you seem really mad, and- and maybe you shouldn't drive if-"

"I need you to stop talking," he says suddenly. "I mean seriously- what were you thinking, Y/N?" He asks with his voice raised.

"I don't- I don't-"

"Yeah, you don't think." Harry doesn't think he's ever been this mad before. He saw the beginnings of her and the guy- him practically dragging her to the kitchen and her just going along with it. He saw red. "Did you even watch as he poured you a drink? Do you even know this guy before you just ran off with him?" His questions upset her further, making her feel stupid.

"I was- I was just flustered, and I wanted to go home, and I didn't know what to do-"

"You don't fucking follow a random dickhead alone at a party!" His voice is loud in the small car. It's quiet for a moment, giving him a second to just focus on the road in front of him as he heads to her house when he hears a stifled cry that breaks him out of his moment. "Are you crying?" His anger falters.

"Well, yeah!" She sobs. "I was left alone at my first party- then I almost get molested- now, I was forced to get in the car with you, and- and- and I'm just scared!" She cries.

Harry doesn't particularly know what to do in this situation. All he knows is that his heart is twisting and pulling in his chest.

"There's nothing to be scared about now." His voice is incredibly softer than before.

"I'm stuck in- in the car of the guy who hates me, and I'm scared," she whimpers, her chest heaving as she tries to suck in air between each word.

Harry's heart dies.

"You're scared of me?" His voice is quiet and insecure.

"Yes," she says simply as if she doesn't understand the gravity of her words. Harry continues driving as he feels wet droplets fall down his cheeks. "Are you- Are you crying?" She asks, concerned but also confused. The tables have turned.

"Well, yeah!" He laughs sadly. He's never felt more like a piece of shit.

"Um- I don't- I don't know what to do," she admits. The car is silent until they pull into her driveway. Harry still has tears running down his cheeks, and Y/N feels frozen.

"Okay- we're um- we're here," he announces as if she doesn't know she's at her own home.

"Harry, why don't you come inside. I don't feel comfortable letting you drive home," she tells him.

"I'm f-fine," he tries to laugh it off, wiping roughly at his red eyes.

"If not for you, I really don't want to be alone right now," she admits.

"But I thought- You're scared of me?" He questions.

"I was merely being dramatic. Tonight was heavy, and you're the most unlikely person to be with at the moment," she explains. "C'mon. I'll brew us a pot of tea," she encourages and gets out of the car. Harry thinks for a moment before ultimately getting out of the car and sheepishly following her up. She unlocks the door and ushers him inside quickly before her mut could escape.

"Hi, Pickle," he greets her dog quietly.

"You remember his name," she says, shocked while bending down to scratch at Pickle's ears.

"'Course," he agrees and also pets her dog.

"Okay, I'm going to go put on a pot of tea. Make yourself comfortable," she tells him before scurrying off to her kitchen.

Harry, still feeling emotional, wanders around the room, looking at pictures. He notices he's not in any. He knows he had no right to be. Still, it makes him cry harder.

"Okay, I've got- oh," she freezes with two cups of tea in her hands as she watches Harry breaking down in front of her. She sets the tea down on her coffee table. "Why don't you come sit down, Harry?" She suggests with a soft voice and sits down on the couch herself.

"I'm sorry. This is so em-embarrassing," he cries and plops down on the couch, covering his face with his hands as his shoulders shake.

"Um do you- I can-" Y/N splutters words as she tries to figure out what to do. "Do you want a hug?" She finally asks. She thinks she's the one that should be being comforted right now, but it almost makes her happy to see this side of Harry. Not that she enjoys anyone's sadness, but it's nice to see him vulnerable instead of conniving. Harry slowly looks up at her, and she holds her arms out. He cries as he shuffles into her arms. His face is buried in her chest as she rubs at his back.

"I'm sorry, that's not who I am," he repeats over and over even though she shushes him. They stay in this position, Harry's arms wrapped around her and hers around him as Harry starts to calm down. Harry takes in the moment. She smells fucking divine and feels so soft against him. He never wants to move. Then her phone rings. She starts to get up, but he shakes his head groaning, "No."

"Okay, then," she sighs before shifting to get her phone out of her back pocket. Harry lays flat against her body as she answers Sarah's phone call, his nose nudging at her tummy as he continues to sniffle. She courses her fingers through his hair making him stifle back a moan. He can't believe the full 180 his brain has done on him, but he can't find an ounce of hatred he once felt towards her. He doesn't want to either.

"Hello?" She answers.

"Y/N? Oh, Y/N, I've been looking for you. Where are you?" Sarah asks frantically, and Y/N can barely hear her over the loud party music.

"I uh- I left," she tells her, and Harry rests his chin on her chest to look up at her. She hates to admit it, but her breath gets caught in her throat looking at Harry's red, puffy eyes. She's always thought he's the most attractive person she's ever met, but right now, he looks so effortlessly pretty. He looks gentle for the first time ever.

"Are you safe? Where are you?" Sarah continues to ask.

"I'm home."

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so, so sorry. I thought Niall would have stayed with you, so I thought it was okay to leave you with him, but he didn't and-"

"It's okay, Sarah," she assures. She doesn't want her friend to feel bad. The thought makes her stomach churn.

"No, it's not," Harry counters, and Y/N presses a finger to her lips, but it's too late.

"Is that Harry?" Sarah asks.

"Um, yeah. He took me home. There was a slight problem at the party- some guy wasn't leaving me alone," Y/N explains.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Can I come over? Mitch and I will bring food, and Niall can-"

"No, no, Sarah it's okay! You don't have to do any of that. Harry's not bothering me- we're good." Harry smiles at that and lays his head back down on her chest.

"Okay," Sarah replies, doubtful. "I'm going to make it up to you. It was so fucking inconsiderate of me, especially with your past and anxiety-"

"Okay, Sarah, I got to go!" She says. Harry caught the last of what Sarah said, and his eyebrows furrow. They say their goodbyes before hanging up. Y/N sighs and tilts her head up to stare at the ceiling. They sit in silence as Harry's sniffling comes to an end. "Feel better?" she breaks the silence.

"Uh, yeah," Harry answers. "What did Sarah mean by 'your past'?" Harry asks. He feels Y/N tense, and he immediately regrets asking. "I'm sorry- you don't have to answer. I was being-"

"No, it's okay," she sighs. "I just- my parents weren't the greatest, and I just struggle with crowded environments," Y/N explains loosely.

"Oh," Harry answers. "I'm sorry," he adds.

"It's fine. People have it worse than me."

"It's still okay to be upset by it," Harry rebuts.

"Thanks, Harry, but you're kind of the last person I will take advice from. No offense," she tries to explain gently.

"Fair enough," he laughs without humor. He feels her push at his shoulder, so he takes the hint and gets off her. He wants to whine from the loss of her touch, and it confuses him.

"You're really confusing me, Harry," Y/N admits as she sits up. She grabs her own tea and takes a sip before continuing. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful doing something so domestic. "I mean, you've done a complete 180 in your behavior, and as much as I enjoy you not tormenting me anymore," Harry winces, "I don't understand it, and I don't trust it. I don't trust you."

"I know, I know," he sighs and covers his face with his hands. "I don't understand it either," he admits. Y/N scoffs and puts her cup down. "What?" he asks.

"You don't want to hear it," she mutters.

"Tell me," he encourages.

"It's just- It's really unfair, Harry. You do understand that, right?"

"I don't-" He looks at her in confusion. She continues.

"You can't just completely change your behavior in the course of an hour. I let you have peace for a while because I could tell you were really upset, but if you want to move forward- it's going to take a lot from the both of us," she explains.

A long silence ensues.

"I'm stupid- I'm sorry. You probably don't even care about any of that. Jesus-"

Harry realizes at the moment the exact mental state his actions have and still put her brain in. He makes her insecure and scared. His mom and sister would be so disappointed.

"Stop, Y/N, stop," he pleads. She stops. "Don't talk about yourself that way," he grimaces.

"That's how you talk about me to my face," she counters. "What the fuck else am I supposed to think?" Harry thinks that's the first time he's ever heard her curse. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice like that," she sighs and ducks her head. Harry can't help but admire her now. His brain is so mushed and confused with this sudden switch.

"Don't- don't apologize. I deserve much worse," he admits.

"I just don't understand your motive. Is this a joke?" she asks.

"Y/N, I'm being honest when I say I don't understand myself either. When I used to see you, you would just anger me. You reminded me of girls in high school that would bully my sister. They all started out super nice and kind, but somewhere along the way, they would realize that they had my sister wrapped around their finger, and they would toy with her. I love my mom and my sister, and I will always protect them and those around me, and so I just hated you. Dad was never around, so I had to step up."

The confession makes Harry feel as if a pile of bricks was finally removed from his chest. He realizes this is how he would have felt if he had just talked to Y/N in the beginning.

"I guess I can understand more now where your behavior came from but- I'm not like that. You've known me for so long, and I've never- I'm not-"

"Y/N, I don't think you realize just how completely entranced everyone is with you. Anyone would do anything for you because of the spell you put on people," Harry explains. "And I see now that it's not a bad thing to be under your spell. You're kind and patient and good. I've always known that. I just didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to like you, but how can I not?" By the end of Harry's speech, they're both in tears.

The draw he feels for her is indescribable.

He's leaning in before he knows it. His hand on her cheek, her eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Their lips are close when she speaks.

"What- What are you doing?" she stutters.

"Please," he whispers.

"Please what?" she asks. He doesn't know if she genuinely doesn't know what he's doing, or if she's asking him to beg, but both ideas make his dick harden.

"Please let me kiss you," he begs. He places his lips against her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, relishing in the way she sighs and softly moans. He cups her face with both hands, but before he could place their lips together, she stops him. She places both her hands on his wrists and turns her head.

"Harry, no," she whimpers. He immediately stops.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I don't- I don't know," she stammers.

"Talk to me, what's wrong?" Harry presses.

"I just- Harry, I want my first kiss to be with someone who actually likes me," she admits.

"I- I do like you," Harry tells her. "Wait- your first kiss?"

"Yeah, my first," she says sheepishly. "And I want it to be with someone who is attracted to me."

"I am attracted to you!" Harry encourages.

"No- Harry, you said it yourself- literally tonight- that I am 'the opposite of your type'," you counter while using air-quotes.

"That wasn't-" Harry realizes he's dug himself into a deep hole.

"It's okay, Harry. I know that it's going to be harder to find someone who likes me, but I know it can happen, and I want all my firsts to be with that person," Y/N explains. "I'm not going to kiss someone who just feels bad for me," she says, shaking herself out of his grip to look away, but he turns her face back to him.

"I am, Y/N. I am so attracted to you, and I think that's why I was even more of a dick because I hated that I was so fucking attracted to you," Harry tries to tell her, but she softly shakes her head with a sad smile.

"But you don't like me."

"I do."

"I can't tell. You have to realize how absurd your behavior is to me, right now. Harry, you've been so awful to me for so long, and I'm just not ready to forgive or believe you, I'm sorry- it's too quick," she tells him, her eyes holding all sincerity. Harry feels his own well up again, and she cups his cheek because even though she doesn't trust Harry, she never wants to see anyone sad. "Thank you for- for explaining to me why you acted the way you did- while it doesn't excuse your actions, I do appreciate it and your heart for your family and friends, and I'm more than willing to begin trying now with you." Her explanation ends with Harry in tears and her thumbs whipping them away. "Do you- Would you want to stay the night?" she asks.

Harry feels new hope in his chest.

"You sure?" he chokes out. She nods her head with a soft smile and stands. Harry looks up at her with all the wonder in the world and presses his chin to her stomach while she holds his hand.

"C'mon," she whispers, and she gasps quietly when he presses a gentle kiss to her clothed stomach before standing up with her.

They hold hands as they go to her bedroom, and Harry can't help the way he smiles.

"Let me go get you a change of clothes," Y/N says before disappearing in her closet. He looks around her room for a minute and can't help the comfort and warmth he feels. It's just so her. After a moment, he hears her talking in the closet and thinks she's telling him to come in. He opens the door, and his eyes grow wide when he sees her standing in front of her mirror in just her jeans and bra. Harry purses his lips as his eyes take in her body, and he fights the groan that wants to fall from his mouth. "Harry!" She gasps and covers her chest.

"Sorry!" He's finally broken out of gaze. "I thought I heard you- Hey, what is that?" His eyes zero in on the bruises that cover both sides of her waist and ribs. She looks down as well and bites her lip.

"Um, I think they're from that guy," she whispers defeatedly. He slowly moves closer to her, giving her time to back away or tell him to stop, but she just stares at him with wide glossy eyes. He carefully and with the utmost gentleness he can muster, places his hands on her hips. Softly caressing them, and the bruises littering her skin. He takes a moment just to take her in before speaking.

"I'll kill him," he sneers. It makes her softly laugh.

"No, you won't," she disagrees and shakes her head. "I'm okay," she says. dipping her head down to meet his eyes.

"You're very pretty," Harry counters. She blushes before moving away to get him clothes. Once she hands him the oversized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants, she leaves the room to let him change. She finds and extra toothbrush for him, and once they both finish their night routine, they crawl into her bed, keeping to their own reserved sides and both staring at the ceiling. "Thank you for letting me stay," Harry says, his head turning to look at her. His breathing falters as he looks at her. She just smiles in return.

"Just no funny business," she says softly before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. They sit in silence before Harry adjusts himself. They both quietly gasp when his hand skims her own. His hand freezes over hers for a moment before he gently intertwines their pinkies. She makes the bold decision to, with her free hand, lean over and feel for his cheek before planting the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. "Good night, Harry."

Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face and new hope settling into his mind.

Y/N wakes the following morning to a loud banging sound and a heavy weight on her chest. Her eyes squint open, the sun shining through her curtains and to her irises. She groans and closes her eyes again until she hears the banging continue. Her eyes are wide now with fear and confusion. She tries to move to grab her phone but quickly realizes her body is immobilized because of a big sleeping Harry laying on her, his shirt now off his chest. His mouth is slightly agape, laying at the top of her breast. His arms are encircled around her waist and holding her tight. It was much different from the pinkies they had entangled the previous night.

"Harry," she whispers and tries to budge his shoulder. He doesn't move, just continues to heavily breathe against her clothed tit. The banging, which Y/N has realized is just loud knocking, continues, and she really needs to get up. "Harry!" she says louder and pushes at his head. He groans and yawns sleepily. "Get up!" she demands, but he's barely conscious.

"Morning," he sighs dreamily and settles back down on her, pressing a wet kiss to the top of her boob. He's broken out of his dreamy state when he finally hears the knocking. "What the hell?" he groans and sits up on his elbows, still caging her in.

"I need to go see who's at the door," she whines and pushes at him. He whines as well and gets up, taking her hand in his to take them both to the front door.

"I'm going to kill whoever is out here," he tells her, and she laughs because she doesn't believe he's fully awake yet. She likes morning grumpy Harry a lot more than normal grumpy Harry. As soon as he opens the door, people are barging in.

"Finally!" Someone yells, and Y/N's able to place the voice to Niall. She watches as he, Mitch, and Sarah all welcome their selves into her home with bags of food. The chill from the outside makes her shrink into Harry's side, and he wraps an arm around her before shutting the door. He rubs his hand up and down her arm to create heat for her.

"Is someone going to tell me what you all are doing in my home on this Sunday morning? Not that I mind, of course," she says and hugs each one of them as they get their coats and hats off.

"We felt like shit after being the shittiest friends ever last night," Sarah explains.

"Hey-" Y/N begins to stop her, but Niall cuts her off.

"No, it's true, Y/N. Felt like my heart shattered in my chest when Sarah and Mitch came to me all panicked cause they couldn't find you," Niall explains. His eyebrow quirks as he watches his best friend, who seemed to still despise the girl not even twenty-four hours ago, wrap his sleepy body around her, his chin resting on her shoulder as his body pressed against hers from behind. "Though it looks as if it might have been for the best that we lost you," Niall suggests and cocks his head. Y/N shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, saying 'yeah, I don't understand it either'.

"Anyways," Mitch breaks the silence. "We thought we'd bring you breakfast then go to the winter festival in town."

"Sounds perfect," she says and moves away from Harry to set the table. Harry has to physically stop himself from whining, but Niall, Sarah, and Mitch all see his pout and look at him with questioning eyes. He blushes under their questioning stares. When she walks into the kitchen to retrieve silverware, they start asking the questions.

"What the hell is going on?" Sarah asks first.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry says innocently.

"You're acting like her pet, and not even a full day ago, you couldn't stand her. I'm definitely not saying it's a bad thing, but what-" Niall stops speaking because he genuinely doesn't know what to ask.

"Look, I don't understand it either," Harry begins, "But I just- I don't know. Something's changed. There was some weird fucking pervert at the party that was scaring her, and then when we were in the car, she admitted that she was scared of me, and it genuinely killed me to know that I was grouped in the same space in her head with that dickhead from the party," Harry explains. "I don't get it, but my mind has completely flipped, and all I want to do is just be around her."

"Wow," Mitch was the first to speak.

"Yeah, I know," Harry groans. "We had a really good talk last night, and I think she's willing to move forward."

"You know, Harry," Niall speaks, "There's a saying that there's a very fine line between love and hate," Niall sings with a mischievous voice.

"I'm not even going to argue with that," Harry sighs, and none of them have any time to speak on Harry's crazy admission because Y/N is coming back into the room with silverware, plates, and napkins. She eyes the tension in the room.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asks.

"Nothing, Angel. Let's get you some food," Harry tells her.

The town was decorated in the most beautiful festive decorations. Y/N felt real joy for the first time in a long time as she walked through the streets filled with vendors with her friends. She couldn't help how cute she thinks Harry looks as well. He borrowed a hoodie from her and was in his jeans and sneakers. He wore the hood up as he munched on a soft pretzel he bought. She couldn't help the urge to whip out her digital camera and snap a picture, not realizing the flash was on. She blushes when she realizes he caught her.

"Hey!" he accuses her. "I'm trying to eat my pretzel here!" He complains and pouts.

"Sorry," she laughs. "You just looked really cute," she admits. His cheeks flush red before he quickly shakes it away.

"Yeah? Well, you're cuter, and I'm keeping this hoodie by the way," he tells her before walking away. She follows him quickly and loops her arm around his waist to catch him.

Harry's cheeks seem as though they're now a permanent blush around her. He'd always seen how affectionate she was with their friends, and he thoroughly enjoyed finally being a receiver because he loves physical touch- especially from a very beautiful woman.

"You can't keep my hoodie, you thief. I barely have any as is," she complains and slips her hand under the hoodie to feel the plush at his hips. He always hated the extra skin at his waist, but now he thanks his mother for it. He feels overtly bashful at her touch, like he wants to smile and kick his feet like a teenage girl with a crush.

"I'll buy you some more, Angel. Just tell me if there's a shop you want to walk in," he tells her gently and wraps the arm that isn't holding his pretzel around her shoulder.

"Give me a bite," she suddenly says. Harry gawks.

"Uh- sorry, what?" He stutters.

"Of your pretzel, you perv!" she laughs at his flustered expression.

"Oh!" he laughs and reaches his hand out in front of her to let her bite the pretzel from his hand. He gasps when she takes the rest of the pretzel into her mouth. "Hey!" he whines and pouts at his empty hand.

"Sorry," she apologizes once she finishes chewing. She squeezes his side as she speaks, "I was hungry," she says with an evil smirk.

"Rude. Very rude," he comments though he pulls her tighter against him.

Little did they know, all of their friends were snapping pictures of them from behind, snickering and chatting about the newfound lovebirds.

Y/N and Harry seemed to be attached by the hip as the weeks went on. It had been almost two months since their new friendship was born, and neither of them realized how much they would click. Many nights were spent having dinner, singing karaoke, and watching movies together. When they were with their friends, they were always attentive to each other and sitting by one another.

It's a Friday, and Harry was on his way to visit her library right now. He'd been visiting her a lot and using it as a nice place to get work done. Work had been pretty stressful for Harry recently. He was managing a project for his company that's building a new stadium, and it's challenging in ways he hasn't been before, so while he's thankful for the opportunity, it comes with a lot more planning and map-outs than usual.

When he walks in, he sees her at the counter. Her shift is over in an hour, and he told her he'd pick her up once she got off, but he decided he could get some work done while he waited.

She's re-binding a book when he walks up, totally engrossed in the practice. So much so that she doesn't see Harry looming over her across the counter. He rings the bell that sits next to a box of tissues on the counter. She jumps and gasps when she looks up. A bright smile quickly covers her face.

"You're here early, puppy!" She walks around the counter to greet him as he blushes over the nickname. Ever since they became friends, their friends joked about how Harry follows her around like a dog, so she decided the nickname was fitting.

She squeezes him tight and wraps her arms around his waist as she looks up at him. Her chin rests on his chest as she speaks.

"How was work? Are you sore? I can give you a massage when we go to mine. I've been watching a lot of videos because I know your back hurts you a lot, and-" She tends to lose all sort of mind whenever he's around, and he has to reign her in.

"Angel," he interrupts her and laughs when she pauses abruptly.

"Sorry, I was rambling," she blushes. He kisses her forehead.

"It's okay. I love hearing you speak," he tells her honestly.

Harry never takes for granted the way she speaks to him because there used to be a time when she was too afraid to.

"I would love a massage, my love," he tells her and kisses her temple. "Work was good- fun. Got to tear down walls today, and that's always really fun, and before you ask, I promise I was wearing all the right gear, so don't go scolding me," he eyes her, and she smirks.

"Good boy," she says.

Harry damn near busts in his jeans at her praise. She continues talking like nothing happened.

"Why are you here so early? I don't get off for another hour."

"I- um. I- I know. I was- I figured I could get some work done," he stutters out.

"Okay, silly," she laughs at his speech. She unwraps herself from him and walks behind the counter. "You can sit back here with me. I'm the only one working," she offers, and he nods his head. She places a stool next to hers, and they both get to work for the next hour.

"We've watched this movie a billion times, H! Not again!" Y/N complains when Harry tries to put on The Notebook for the millionth time. They're both cozied on her couch after eating some takeout sushi. Harry's wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. Y/N's wearing a new purple hoodie Harry bought for her and a pair of tiny sleep shorts. Harry had been fighting the urge to stare at her thighs since they got back.

"Well, until you get some good movie taste, we're watching mine." They're banter was playful and not harmful.

Y/N huffed as he started the movie and scooted to other side of her couch, away from him.

"Don't be mad at me, sweet girl," he says before pulling her sideways into his lap. "Be mad at yourself and your terrible movies," he laughs and tightens his arms around her when she tries to escape his hold. She continues to squirm until he pulls her close and bites down on her neck. She lets an airy moan escape her lips as he sucks and kisses at the spot.

"Teething at me like a needy puppy," she tells him and cards her fingers through his hair. Y/N has never been with a boy before, so she doesn't know if what her and Harry are doing is normal or not for just friends, but she doesn't care. She just likes what he does. "Are you seeing anyone right now?" she asks him out of nowhere. The angst she would feel if he said yes would make her cry.

"I'm seeing you all the time," he tells her and kisses at her chin and jawline. It was when Harry got like this that she had a hard time thinking clearly. She thinks she would say yes to whatever he asked if he was being as lovey as he gets.

"I mean are you dating any girl right now," she corrects him.

"I know what you meant, Angel," he tells her. "I haven't seen anyone but you since the night of the party," he says honestly, and it makes her smile and place her head against his chest. He runs his fingers through her hair as he speaks. "It's totally okay whatever your answer is to this, but I wanted to ask you." Her head quirks up to look at him with a confused face. "Have you uh- Have you forgiven me?" He asks, and he immediately looks away. "It is more than okay if you haven't because I was incredibly awful to you for so long, and I know if I was you, I would have a hard time-" She presses her hand against his mouth to shut him up.

"I forgive you, Harry," she says. "Forgave you a long time ago," she tells him honestly and releases her hand from his mouth.

"You serious?" he asks, and she nods. His eyes well with tears, and he hugs her to his chest. "Thank you. I don't deserve you," he whispers into her hair and kisses her head. They watch the movie for a while until Harry speaks again. "You remember that night when I tried to kiss you?" He asks.

"'Course," she tells him, wondering why he's bringing it up.

"Have you kissed anyone since then?" She sits up to look at him.

"Now when would I have had the time to?" She gestures to his hold on her. "You've got me locked down 24/7," she laughs.

"Would you say no if I asked to kiss you now?" he asks, bracing himself for the answer. She takes a moment to think about it.

"I would definitely let you kiss me," she tells him, and he grabs her face, about to plant a big smooch on her lips until she stops him, laughing at his eagerness. "But wouldn't that make this weird?"

"Make what weird?" he asks.

"Us," she tells him.

"Nothing has to be weird unless you make it weird," he tells her.

"But- but we're in such a good place as friends-"

"Friends kiss all the time!" Harry counters, though it makes his heart clench at the thought of them just being friends. "Though I do think we're a bit more than that," he adds, and she smiles. He becomes serious again, holding both sides of her face in his strong, rough hands. "I'll make it so good for you," he promises.

"I don't know, puppy," she sighs, but they both know she wants it. She just wants to make him work for it a bit.

"Please, please," he whispers.

"Just one little kiss," she tells him. He nods his head and begins to lean forward. She cups both of his wrists like she had done that first night and breathes shakily until his lips finally meet hers. She sighs, her first kiss finally taken. She doesn't even know if it counts as a kiss because their lips are just pressed together until they start smiling against each other. She pulls back to giggle, but he pulls her back in, this time actually kissing her. His lips massage her own, and she doesn't really know what's she's doing, but she just tries to mimic his actions. He moans as she picks up on it quite quickly. "Okay," she breathes and backs away. Harry whines and cups the back of her neck to try and reel her in.

"Please. A little more. You're so good- taste heavenly," he comments. Harry feels like he's experiencing his first kiss again as well. Nothing had ever felt like that before. Nothing had ever felt so good. He could feel himself chubbing up in his pants just from the one kiss.

"I told you one kiss, Harry," she reprimands him, but he shakes his head.

"Was it not good for you?" He asks. He knows she enjoyed it. She's panting like a dog in heat, and he can see her subconsciously pressing her thighs together. He just wants her to kiss him again. "My lips not good enough for your perfect mouth, pet?" he asks with a pout and lets a finger caress her bottom lip.

"No, that's not it at all, Harry!" she says eagerly. "It was perfect. The best first kiss I could have asked for. I just don't want to complicate things," she tells him.

"It's already complicated, babe. That's our thing," he tries to reason, and she laughs. He can see her slowly start to let down her wall, and he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss at her neck and jaw, trying to coerce her more.

"It did feel very good," she sighs and grabs the back of his neck, holding him against her own.

"Yeah?" he mumbles against her skin before sucking a hickey into her neck.

"Yeah," she moans softly. "Okay, okay, I don't care anymore. Just kiss me," she begs.

"Sound so sweet begging for me," he tells her and cups her cheeks, caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs. Her eyes well as she waits for him to lay one on her.

"Harry, c'mon," she whimpers.

"Don't cry on me," he coos. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait. I'll give you what you want, my love," he assures her and with that, plants his lips back on hers. She's more eager this time around. Her lips move more feral against his, and he groans deeply when she nips at his bottom lip. The exchanging of saliva makes her feel dirty in the best way possible. She's still sitting sideways on her lap, but her body is aching for her to straddle his thighs and grind against his crotch as she pushes her tongue against his. Harry realizes very quickly how dirty she is for being a virgin. Her tongue found its way into his mouth first, and she didn't hesitate to mold hers against his. Harry fights the urge to move his hands lower and grasp at her body, but he doesn't want to scare her by moving too quickly. Luckily, he doesn't have to wait much longer until she's requesting exactly what he wanted.

"Can I sit in your lap?" she asks breathlessly. She doesn't let him speak, instead missing the way his mouth felt against hers too bad that she kisses him again, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling in a way that makes him whine.

"You are sitting in my lap," he mumbles against her lips.

"No, I mean like- Can I just show you?" she asks impatiently. He nods his head and chokes on his own spit as she straddles his thighs and presses her crotch down onto his roughly. "This okay?" she asks.

"S-so okay," he tells her and grips her hips.

"Why does that feel so good?" she asks rhetorically and continues to roll her hips against his.

"Baby- I don't think you know what you're doing," he tells her. She shrugs and continues to do it because it feels good against her pussy. "Wait, wait, wait," he makes her pause.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"More than," he assures her. "But I want to talk to you first before we go any farther."

"Okay, well hurry up because I would like to continue." He laughs at her horny, foggy mind that's making her bolder than usual.

"I need to know what all you've done- sexually speaking," he tells her.

"You know I'm a virgin, Harry," she says. "I've never done anything with anyone- well, until now," she smiles, and he reciprocates.

"Right, but what have you done by yourself?" he asks, and she blushes. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he reassures her.

"I've touched myself before," she admits, and he tries his best not to whimper at the thought.

"Okay. Do you know all the terms of anatomy down there?" he asks.

"Yes, professor," she laughs.

"So, when you touch yourself, do you just play with your pretty little clit, or do you put fingers into yourself? Or do you have a toy?" She becomes bashful at his blunt speech.

"I usually do one finger inside and my other hand playing with my clit," she admits shyly.

"You're so fucking hot," he tells her honestly before grabbing her face to kiss her. She moans at his roughness. "Okay, okay, wait," he stops himself. She whines. "I need to know what you're comfortable with us doing, my love," he tells her.

"I just want to keep doing what we're doing," she whimpers.

"Okay? You like grinding yourself against me?" He asks, and she nods her head while biting her lip. Harry wishes he had his phone to take a picture of her. The embodiment of sex, and she didn't even realize. "We can both cum from that," he tells her. "You want to- Do you want to go that far?" he asks, and she nods her head eagerly. "Words," he commands.

"Yes, yes please," she begs.

"How would you feel about both of us stripping to our underwear, so we can feel each other a bit better?" he asks.

"Sounds really good, Harry," she says and immediately stands up to take her shorts off, but he stops her.

"You're incredibly cute with how eager you are," he laughs, and she turns red. He kisses her clothed stomach to assure her it's nothing to be ashamed of. "Let me take them off," he suggests. What she didn't expect was for Harry to sink to his knees in front of her and kiss at her thighs a bit first. It makes her feel extra hot having his mouth so close to her core. "Have you ever watched porn?" he asks suddenly as he bites a hickey into her thigh.

"Yes," she says breathily.

"What do you watch, dirty girl?" he asks as he sinks his teeth into the waistband of her shorts and starts to pull them down her legs.

"Um-" she stutters at the question.

"It's okay," he assures her. "It's just me," he says and squeezes her thighs in support. It was like those three words were all the encouragement she needed. He rests his chin between her thighs as she begins to speak.

"Well, I like to watch men um- eating out girls. I like to watch rough stuff, and I think I would like that a lot, but I think I would also like to just make love," she explains. "I also like watching girls giving blowjobs," she says suddenly like she had almost forgotten. "I also," she begins but stops herself in embarrassment.

"What is it? You're safe to talk to me, Angel," he assures her.

"I like to... read about things," she says.

"Okay. Explain," he tells her.

"Well, like- smut. I like to read little things people write about people fucking," she admits shyly.

"And what are the people doing in your favorite ones?" he asks.

"I like when they write the guy just being completely overtaken by his natural instincts to- to fuck the girl- almost feral- he's just taking what he wants, you know?" she explains.

"Did you know you're perfect? Like actually fucking enthralling?" he asks and basks in the way her face reddens. "I'm serious, Y/N," he tells her.

"Thank you, H. You're very captivating yourself," she comments.

"Oh?" he questions as he stands. His nose meets hers and they play tag with their mouth for a moment before she just leans forward and pecks him.

"You're an incredibly beautiful man. Always thought so- even before," she says honestly. His heart twists a bit at the mention of before. "The most alluring man I've ever seen," she tells him.

"You can't mean that," he disagrees, and his breathing shakes when he feels her play with the waistband of his sweatpants.

"I can, and I do," she tells him and presses her hand over the large bulge in his sweatpants. He actually moans from the contact- not expecting it from her.

"You're dirty," he gasps, and they both laugh. She doesn't waste another second before pulling his sweats down his legs and letting him step out of them.

She sits on her knees to love on him a bit. She's always loved his meaty sides, and now that she has the opportunity, she doesn't think twice before sinking her teeth into his loves handles. She smiles when he gasps as she kisses and nipples at his flesh. She surprises him once again when she presses her mouth against the bulge, letting her hot breath feed into the fabric and to his cock. He wants to push her away because he's afraid he's going to cum too soon, but he also knows that's the stupidest idea when he's got the most irresistible woman in the world with her mouth on him. It's when he feels her lick at his tip through his briefs when he back away and sits on the couch, shielding his clothed dick with his hands as if to protect himself from her.

She smiles at him as devilishly as an angel could. "You have an oral fixation," he notes, and she shrugs.

"Let's get to the fun stuff," she whines and crawls all the way to the couch and onto his lap. Harry doesn't think he's ever been so fucking turned on.

"You know you're every man's fantasy?" he asks, and she cocks her head in confusion. "A hot librarian," he expands, and she laughs.

"Yeah? You want me to read you a bedtime story, baby?" she asks, trying to make her voice sound sultrier, and it works. Harry's dick twitches in his boxers.

"I'm gonna cream in my boxers," he warns, and she laughs.

"Please, don't. We haven't even had any fun yet," she complains, and he shakes his head in amusement.

"Just start rubbing your cute little cunt on my cock," he instructs her, and she wastes no time before she puts her hands on his shoulders and begins to rut against him.

"Oh," she gasps. From the way his dick is positioned in his underwear, it's perfectly laid out for her to rub her clit against. "Is your- Is your dick big?" she suddenly asks. Harry, who was in a trance already from the way she was shamelessly grinding on him, splutters for words from her question.

"W-What?" he asks, his hips jutting up to press against her roughly out of instinct. They both moan at the sensation.

"It just- It feels really big, and sometimes you get a big bulge in your pants," she moans and bounces on his lap, trying to catch her clit on his tip.

"I have been told it is- yeah," he tells her. To be honest, he knows his dick is big. He knows it's really big. He usually would be cocky about it, but he doesn't want to scare her.

"Can I see?" she asks breathlessly.

"What?" he asks, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Well," she begins, her hips stopping their movement. "I was just thinking that if maybe you were naked that it might feel better," she tells him. Harry's frozen in shock, but she takes it as him being unsure. "C'mon, please," she begs. "I'll let you cum on me," she adds.

"Where?" he asks.

"My- my pussy," she says quietly.

"Hop up," he tells her, and she quickly crawls to the spot on the couch next to him. She's about bouncing from how excited she is.

"Take your shirt off too." He laughs at how demanding the virgin is being.

"Need to spank your attitude out of you," he says as he takes off his shirt.

"Yeah, right," she scoffs but is silenced with his glare.

"I'm not going to show you my dick if you're going to be mean," he tells her and watches how her eyes round with wetness.

"I'm not being mean!" she complains.

"Yeah, you are, pet. And I'm being so nice to you- showing you everything, and you're acting like you don't care," he reprimands her. He's surprised when he feels her arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Please, puppy. Show me, please. I'll be so sweet to you," she pleads, her voice muffled in his neck. Harry smiles, feeling like he's won the jackpot in life.

"Give me a kiss first," he commands, and she acts quick. Because she acted on fast movements, her hands lands his neck to stabilize herself. Harry moans at the pressure it provides for him.

"You like my hand around your neck?" she asks. He feels himself begin to nod submissively but remembers that he needs to be in charge for the moment. He switches on her, instead cupping her neck with his hand. She gasps, and her jaw falls from the movement.

"I do, baby, about as much as I like my hand around yours." He uses the grip he has on her throat to pull her closer and spit into her mouth. She moans and swallows easily. "Okay, enough foreplay," he tells her and releases her neck to shimmy his underwear off. The gasp he hears from her when his dick comes into view is welcomed gladly.

"It's so big, H," she tells him and continues to stare at it. She gulps at the thought of it being inside of her.

"Don't have to worry about it being inside you tonight, pet," he tells her as if he could read her mind. "It's gonna make you feel so good though."

"It's so pretty, puppy," she tells him, and she feels the urge to put her mouth on him, but she holds back, not wanting to upset him.

He pets her hair as he talks to her, "Can we try a different position than last time?" he asks.

"Whatever you want to do," she tells him, and he smiles.

"Just make sure to let me know if you don't feel good or like what I'm doing," he asks as he cups her face. She smiles softly and leans forward to lightly kiss him.

"Thank you for doing this, Harry," she tells him sincerely and places another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for letting me," he says. They both lock eyes and their lips meet again, completely forgetting about what they were supposed to be doing. The kiss is passionate instead of rough. Their lips are eager but not rushed. Harry ends it with pecking her lips a few times, making her giggle. "Okay, enough sap. We can do that after. I feel like I'm going to burst," he says, and she laughs.

"How do you want me?" she asks.

"On your knees, face pressed against the couch," he tells her, and she blushes before complying. Harry moans as she sticks her ass in the air. He's quick to get on his own knees behind her. He holds his dick up and places himself against her, grabbing her hips once he's in place. They both groan at the contact. He slowly starts to use the leverage he has on her hips to grind her against him, making sure to angle her up, so her clit is grinding against him.

"That feel so good, puppy," she whines and begins to throw her hips back at him. His hold on her tightens, but he allows her to help his efforts in making them both feel good. Harry has never done anything like this before, and it feels so fucking good. He raises her up enough so that her clit is catching at his tip before he lowers her back down to rub along his length. He thanks his job for the strength he has to lift her up and down on him like this. He takes a break from the rubbing to harshly thrust his hips against her as if he was fucking her for real.

"I can't wait to have my dick inside you," he moans.

"Yeah, baby?" she asks breathlessly, and he whines a yes. He groans when he feels her wetness seep from her panties onto his cock.

"Creamy little pussy," he moans and takes his dick away from her for a moment to rub his finger on her clothed clit. Her hips just forward at the surprising touch, but he lightly spanks her as a warning to stay in place. His finger ventures up to press at her hold through the opening, and the whiny moan that she releases only makes him press harder.

"I wanna see your face," she says quietly, and he could almost cry from how sweet she sounds. He taps her hip, so she takes the hint and turns around to lay flat on her back. She smiles up at him once she can see him, and he can't believe there was ever a time where he hated this girl.

"You're so beautiful, and you're doing so good for me," he tells her as he cups her head and kisses her hair. "Do you feel good?" he asks.

"Very," she answers quickly. "I want to try something though," she says shyly.

"What is it? Whatever you want," he assures.

"Can I show you?" she asks, and he nods his head. He gasps when she wraps a gentle hand around his dick, a bit of precum slipping from the tip when she gives a little tug. He thinks he dies when she slips her underwear to the side and places her bare dick against her naked pussy. She throws her head back at the contact and more cum oozes from Harry's dick.

"Oh, baby," he moans and places a hand on the length of his dick to press down on it as he glides against her pussy. She isn't shaved, but she's trimmed and well-groomed like Harry is, and it makes it feel so much better with the extra sensation. He uses two fingers to spread her open, so his dick rubs right over her clit, and he thinks she might die at the expression she makes. Her mouth is dropped, and her eyebrows are scrunched together in pleasure. She holds her thighs up and apart for him, and he doesn't think he's ever felt so attracted to a human.

"You're leaking so much," she moans as she looks down at them together.

"It's for you- It's all for you," he whines and ruts against her harder. She loves seeing him so whiny and submissive. She moves her panties so that her dick is actually inside of them now, so he doesn't have to hold it down anymore, and it makes them both moan to watch the erotic scene unfold. Her cotton panties are becoming see-through with their combined wetness.

"Love your dick, H," she moans and presses on him through her panties.

"I love your pussy," he moans back. "So fucking creamy and soft," he adds.

"I'm gonna cum," she tells him and grabs him by the back of the neck to kiss him. It's sloppy, and they're basically just trading saliva, but it makes it so much hotter. They're both so far gone.

"Please, Angel. Baby, please cum for me. Let me feel it," he says and moans when he feels her push on his dick harder, the pressure making her orgasm. It's intense and prolonged because Harry never stops moving. He can't help but cum as well when he feels his tip catch her hole. He fights the urge to just stuff her full with his dick, instead cumming against her pussy that's still covered by her, now, ruined panties.

"Wow," she breathes as they both feel the aftershocks. She pulls her panties to the side, and they both moan at the mess they created. He takes his softening dick and spreads his cum all over her. He leans down to smear a wet kiss against her lips, and they both sloppily make-out until Harry's weak arms give out, and he lays on top of her. They fall asleep in each other's embrace.

It's Y/N's second party.

This one is already going much better than the last. Harry hasn't let one second go by that he doesn't have some sort of physical contact with her. It's been two weeks since their moment at her house, and he hasn't let her forget about it.

Right now, Harry and Y/N are standing in the kitchen talking to some of Harry's friends. Well, Harry's talking to them, Y/N's basking in the way he has her back pressed against his chest, and how his hand is casually resting at the bottom of her throat. His casual dominance makes her pussy throb.

"You okay, pet?" his voice in her ear spooks her until she relaxes back into his hold. His friends are occupied with themselves for the moment, so he takes the opportunity to love on her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and discretely squeezing at her throat.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought," she explains.

"It's okay. Just let me know the second you're ready to leave, and we can go," he promises her. She rolls her eyes and turns around in his hold to look at him. His hands gravitate down to hold her ass with a smirk.

"You know you don't have to babysit me, right?" she asks.

"Not babysitting. Why would I want to be without you?" he asks like she's acting dumb. She goes to speak, but she's interrupted by his fratty friends.

"Hey, H! Come play beer pong with us!" One of them shouts at him and shoves at his shoulder, making both him and Y/N stumble a bit. He goes to reprimand him, but Y/N stops him.

"He would love to!" she tells them when she turns around.

"Y/N-"

"No, H. Go have some fun. I'll be fine, I swear. I'll go find Niall," she assures him.

"Harry, dude, c'mon. Tell your babe goodbye for like twenty minutes, man," they all laugh at how whipped he is. Harry glares at them. Y/N makes the decision for him.

She kisses his cheek and says, "I'll see you later!" Before she scurries away to find Niall. Harry's grumpy as he goes to play beer pong.

Y/N somehow found Niall easily. All she really had to do was stop for a second and listen for his laugh to follow it. It had been about thirty minutes since she had seen Harry, and she was certainly missing him.

"Can't believe how whipped H is for you," Niall tells her as they walk outside to find the firepit. His arm is slung protectively around her shoulder, and her hand is holding his that's wrapped around her.

"He is not," she counters. "We just like to spend time with each other," she explains, and Niall gives her a knowing look.

"He told me about the other night," he informs her.

"He did not!" she says suddenly and releases herself from his hold.

"He's my best mate, of course he did," he says easily.

"I'll kill him," she says seriously and starts to walk off to find him.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/N!" Niall whines and hugs himself over her shoulders as she storms off, trying to find the culprit. "It's not like he told me what all did! Just that you got a bit intimate but didn't go all the way," he explains. She grimaces when she spots where Harry is with his friends playing beer pong. Well, where he's supposed to be playing beer pong. Instead, he's talking with a girl who's a bit too close for Y/N's liking. Y/N also doesn't like how into the conversation Harry looks. He's talking with his hands, and his facial expressions are animated.

"Let's go inside," Y/N says suddenly, and Niall furrows his eyebrows.

"Why-" he begins to ask but then stops himself when he sees the reason she wants to go inside. "C'mon," he tells her and doesn't give her an option to say no before he's wrapping a strong arm around her shoulder and pulling her along.

"No! I don't want to see this!" she complains, but Niall says nothing as they approach the group. Harry's telling the girl something when his eyes land on Y/N. It's like his whole world stopped, and Y/n doesn't have time to process anything before she's being engulfed in a rough embrace and kisses are being pressed all over her face.

"Y/N!" His voice is loud and joyful. "Niall, get off her," Harry scolds, and Niall just laughs.

"Don't be rude, H," Y/N tells him, and Harry pouts. He sinks his head into her shoulder and holds her tightly around her waist.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Niall," he says loud enough for Niall to hear. His words are slurred.

"It's alright, H," Niall just laughs.

"Harry, this is nice, but I can't breathe," Y/N tells him.

"I wish I was small, so I could climb in your lap," Harry says randomly, and Niall's loud laugh is heard for miles. "It's not funny!" Harry complains. "Oh, wait!" Harry abruptly turns around to face the girl he was talking to who's looking at him unamused now. "This is my wife, Y/N. She's who I was telling you about and why I did not want to make-out with you at all!" Harry looks and sounds disgusted at the thought of making out with the girl, and Y/N gasps. Niall's laugh somehow grows louder. "Once you've tasted her fucking mouth- oh, fuck," Harry groans just thinking about Y/N's mouth. "And her pussy- holy shit!"

"Harry!" Y/N scolds. The girl walks off coldly.

"Bye!" Harry tells her, but she doesn't even look back at him. Y/N turns around to find Niall bent over, hugging his stomach in amusement. "What are you laughing at, Niall?" Harry asks him and goes over to hug him.

"Nothing, H," he says once he's put himself together enough. "You drink a little bit, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry says with an evil smirk. "I was so shit at beer pong, so I drank like so much, dude," he tells Niall.

"I think we should get you home, buddy," Niall tells him, and Harry whines. Y/N comes up to Harry's side and wraps her arm around his hip. He seems to remember that Y/N was there and gasps.

"I missed you so much," Harry mumbles into her hair.

"Harry, I would like to go home," she tells him.

"Okay, let's go!" he agrees with ease, and Niall rolls his eyes. Y/N, Harry, and Niall all make their way outside and to Niall's car. Y/N gets into the backseat because she expects Harry to sit in the front, but she's surprised when he climbs in right after her and sits so close he should practically be on her lap.

"Oy, what do I look like? An uber?" Niall says when he realizes he's alone in the front. He starts his car up and starts driving towards Y/N's house.

"Sorry, Niall," Y/N says and grunts when Harry encircles her waist with his big arms and smushes his face into her neck.

"It's alright. I'm just messing with you, babe," he tells her.

"Hey, don't call her that!" Harry grumbles.

"Don't be rude, Harry," Y/N scolds and lightly swats at his head.

"She is my babe, H," Niall tells him, just to mess with drunk Harry some more.

"She's not your anything!" Harry cries.

"Niall, stop messing with him," Y/N now scolds the Irish man, and he just laughs in return. She suddenly feels a hand on her cheek and Harry planting kisses all over her face. He moves his hand down to rest at her neck, so he can angle her face however he wants. "Niall, can you hurry up? I'm being attacked," Y/N says.

"I'm a law-abiding citizen, Y/N," Niall tells her.

"Oh, please. I've seen you speed to go get a donut," she grumbles and grimaces when she feels a tongue lick her cheek. "Ew, Harry!" she pushes at him, but he doesn't move.

"You taste so good," he says before he erupts into a fit of giggles. "Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits," he groans randomly, and Y/N thanks God when they finally pull into her driveway. "Alright, goodbye guys," she sighs before getting out of Niall's car. She raises her eyebrows at Harry when he tries to follow her out. "Um, what are you doing?" she asks him.

"Uh, spending the night with you," he responds like she's acting dumb.

"H, I'm going to take you to your house," Niall tells him.

"What? No!" he cries and hugs Y/N's waist tight when she tries to walk away from where she stands outside the car.

"H-" she begins to say, but she's stopped when she sees Harry's eyes full of tears and his whimpery voice begging.

"Please, I'll be so good for you," he pleads, and she sighs. Niall doesn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. He settles on taking a picture of a sad Harry practically wrapped around Y/N to send to him later. "Please, Angel. I don't want to be away from you," he cries, and how can Y/N argue with his pitiful little state?

"Alright, H. C'mon," she tells him and leads him out of the car.

"Good luck," Niall tells her before she shuts the car door and lets him drive off. Harry suddenly grabs her face and plants a sloppy wet kiss on her lips. She doesn't even have time to react before he's running up to her door.

"We're going to have so much fun!" he yells, and she shushes him, grumbling about her having neighbors. He waits impatiently for her to open the door, and once it's open, he's running inside in search of her dog Pickle. Y/N shakes her head, wondering what she's gotten herself into especially when she sees Harry laying on the floor with Pickle licking at his face. She grimaces, setting her stuff down and taking off her shoes before she makes her way to Harry.

"Let's get up and go to bed," she tells him, but he shakes his head and pouts like a toddler.

"I don't want to go to bed! You're being boring," he spits, but there's no real spite behind it.

"Fine, you can stay out here by yourself then," she says, knowing it will make him get up and follow her. As she's walking off to her bedroom, she hears Harry get up and scurry off in search of her. She quickly shuts herself into her closet to change before he catches up to her. Once she's changed into a large t-shirt and just her panties, she opens her door. She's not prepared to see Harry in just his boxers sitting at the edge of her bed pouting. She pretends to not notice him as she makes her way to her bathroom and does her nightly skincare and brushes her teeth. He follows after her quickly and shadows her routine, washing his face and brushing his teeth while looking at her expectantly the entire time.

Drunk Harry was needy for her.

Once they're both finished, they crawl into her bed. The lamp isn't even off before Harry is laying on top of her, weeping into her neck.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "Don't ignore me!"

"Why should I talk to you? Being so mean to me. Where's my sweet boy?" she asks, willing herself to not put her hands anywhere on him to mess with him more.

"I'm here, I promise," he whines. "You're not boring- not boring at all. You're the best person, and I love you." Y/N feels like the blood from her body was being drained at his drunk confession. "Don't be mad at me. I'm sorry. Am I being annoying? Oh, I am. I'm so sorry," he continues to cry.

"Puppy, I'm not mad at you," she tells him with a giggle. She finally lets her hand card through his hair, her other hand going to rub at his back.

"Okay, good," he says and begins to kiss at her neck again.

"You're incredibly needy," she sighs and leans her head back to give him more access to her skin.

"Yeah? Fuck, I'm so needy for you," he tells her, and her eyes grow wide when she feels him start to subconsciously hump at her leg. She feels his dick start to harden in his boxers.

"Maybe we should stop, H," she warns him.

"Why?" he whines like the thought of stopping brings him physical pain. His hips thrust into her thigh with more determination.

"Because you're drunk," she tells him.

"So? I want you just as bad when I'm not. I'm just better at being chiller about it," his speech slurs. "Can I suck on your tits?" he asks, and she feels one of his hands snake under her shirt to feel the bare skin of her stomach.

"Um," she stutters.

"Please? It'll help me sleep," he claims. "You can even turn off the lamp if you don't want me to see," he tries to convince her even further.

"Okay," she relents. She reaches over to turn off the lamp, so they're welcomed into the darkness. Harry wastes no time before his legs move to straddle her thighs, and he's lifting her shirt to feel at her breasts. They both moan when he glides his fingers over her taut nipples. He squeezes at them in handfuls and moans at the sensation.

"Fuckin' perfect," he sighs. She feels him scoot down so that he's resting his body weight against her now, and his mouth wraps around one of her tits. She gasps at the feeling and tries to work out the horniness she feels because she genuinely does want them to sleep. He spends some time swapping at both her breasts, biting, sucking, and kissing at both of them before he rests his head on her and keeps one of her tits in his mouth to lull him to sleep. The feeling begins to feel relaxing for her, and she feels herself start to drift to sleep as Harry sucks on her breast. She falls asleep with her hand in his hair and her boob in his mouth.

When she wakes in the morning, she's surprised to be in an empty bed. She thought for sure that Harry would still be resting on her chest or in her bathroom heaving over the toilet, but instead she feels no weight on her chest, yet she smells bacon and pancakes through her nose. She does her business in the bathroom and makes her way to the kitchen when she finishes. What she walks into is a sight she would love to wake up to every morning. Harry is in nothing but his boxers as he flips pancakes and sears some bacon on her stove. She says nothing for a long moment, just observes him. She finally decides to make her presence known when he walks over to the sink to wash some of his dishes once he finishes cooking the last pancake and piece of bacon. She feels his body tense then quickly relax when her hands wrap around him from behind and rub at his tummy.

"Good morning," his rough voice greets her, his body tensing with delight when her hands run over his abs and lower belly.

"Morning handsome," she greets him as well and rests her cheek on his back sleepily as her hands continue to wander. "How are you feeling?" Referring to his intense night of drinking.

"Better than I deserve," he laughs in self-deprecation. She laughs as well. "Honestly don't feel bad at all," he tells her and once he finishes the dishes, he turns around in her hold to see her beautiful morning face. He brushes a few strands of hair out of her face. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I barely drank anything," she shrugs.

"Um, how are your- your uh," he stutters, and she's confused until he looks down at her chest. She laughs lightly.

"Not sure. Haven't seen or felt them yet," she says honestly.

"Can I look?" he asks. She gawks. "I just want to make sure I didn't hurt you!" he explains honestly. She eyes him.

"Okay," she agrees nervously and begins lifting her shirt. She looks away as he looks at her.

"Oh, shit," he gasps.

"Are they ugly?" she whines and goes to bring her shirt back down, but his hand stops her.

"No- they're- they're fucking perfect, but I- I fucked them up a bit," he admits honestly. Her eyebrows furrow before she takes a look for herself. She gasps too when she sees the damage he did. They're littered beautifully with hickeys and a few bite marks. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he tells her, and she looks up to see his eyes watering. She shakes her head as if to tell him not to feel bad.

"Is it messed up that I kind of like it?" she admits.

"You do?" he asks.

"I really do," she says and bites her lip. She finally drops her shirt to cover her abdomen again. She felt awkward just having her tits out in the middle of her kitchen.

"I really like them too," he admits as well and wraps his arms around her waist, bring her closer to him and leaning his face close to hers. He kisses at the corner of her mouth, and she sighs in contentment.

"Do you remember anything from last night? Anything in particular that you might have said?" she asks.

"Are you asking about me telling you I love you?" he asks boldly.

"Possibly," she replies.

"Well, what's to ask about it?" he wonders.

"Well, is it true?" she asks quietly and looks away from his gaze out of nerves. She feels his fingers gently grip her chin to make her look at him before he leans down and presses his lips against hers. She sighs into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck to press him against her harder. Both of his hands cup her throat, and his thumbs rest at her jaw to direct her in any way he likes. He parts once he feels he's running out of breath. He rests his forehead against her own, and she looks up at him with expectant eyes.

"I love everything about you," he admits.

"You also called me your wife," she says with a grin.

"You are my wife- just without all the legal papers and rings and whatnot," he explains, and she shakes her head with a laugh.

"Harry, I want to have sex with you," she admits breathlessly and watches as his eyes grow wide at her statement.

"Are you- Are you sure?" he asks.

"The surest," she tells him honestly.

"You want me to be your first?" he asks and presses a quick, light kiss to her lips.

"And my last," she adds and sees him swoon. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay. Okay- um. Well, let's eat first. We need- It's good to have energy," he stumbles his way through his sentence. She whines in complaint.

"No, we can do that after," she says and goes to pull at his briefs, but he snatches her hands and leans in close to her face. The dominance radiating off him makes her sink into herself.

"I'm not going to fuck you if you don't listen to me," he warns. Her eyes gloss over. "Be sweet for me and go set the food on the table. I'll get our drinks," he instructs, and she scurries off quickly to obey. She's standing awkwardly by her own table when he walks in, and he chuckles lightly. He sets the drinks down and slowly approaches her. He cups her cheeks, and she nuzzles into his touch. "You're not scared of me, right?" he asks, wanting to make sure her behavior isn't out of fear. She shakes her head quickly with furrowed brows.

"No, no," she assures. "Just... want to please you," she explains and turns her head to kiss the inside of his palm. He smiles at that and leans in to slowly kiss her.

"Good," he says against her lips. "Then be good for me and sit on my lap while we eat," he tells her and smiles when she blushes. He sits down first and guides her by her waist to sit down sideways on his lap. She wraps one arm around his shoulders, lightly scratching at his hair as he cuts her up some pancake. He feeds her a few pieces with one hand on keeps the other arm wrapped snug around her waist. He goes to give her another piece, but she shakes her head and takes the fork from his hand to feed him instead. It goes on like that until all of the bacon and pancakes are ate. There's a tension that settles in the room once the plates are cleared.

"Please," she whispers, and that's all Harry needs to hear before he's carrying her off to her bedroom. She giggles when he throws her on her bed and crawls after her, hovering over her excited body. She moans when he rests his body weight on her and kisses her like he's starved. His tongue finds its way into her mouth quickly, and the once innocent kiss becomes messy and sloppy. Harry's pulling away from her panting and with swollen lips. He moans at the sight of her- bare-faced and fucked out just from a little kissing.

"Can I take your shirt off?" he asks roughly.

"You can do anything you want," she answers seriously, making him laugh.

"Don't speak too soon," he tells her before shedding her of her shirt. He moans at her only clad in underwear, her breasts beautiful and littered with his markings. "Oh, baby," he whines and gently tweaks her nipples with his fingers. She gasps and arches her back away from the bed. "Are they sore?" he asks before leaning down to flick his tongue against her nipple.

"A bit, but that feels good," she tells him. She moans when he kisses down her body and to the edge of her underwear. He bites the waistband of her panties and pulls back only to let go of them and let them snap against her skin. She whines at his teasing and buries her hand in his hair to encourage him to do something. He grins at her impatience.

"Bratty little virgin," he remarks, and she tugs at his hair as a warning.

"Big annoying man-whore," she retorts back, and he laughs before lightly slapping her clothed mound. Her body jumps at the sensation, but he's quickly tugging her back into place. He presses his mouth against her clothed pussy and blows hot air against her. She squirms at the new sensation.

"You need to stay still," he tells her and places his hands against her thighs, spreading them in the way he likes. He spends more time licking at where he assumes her clit is by the sounds she makes. He flattens his tongue and licks over her panties, moaning when he begins to taste her wetness. "Can I take these off?" he asks, but his hands are already dipping into the waistband to take them off.

"Please," she tells him and lifts her hips to help him take them off. She feels a bit exposed now that she's naked. She nervously closes her legs, but he quickly snatches them open again.

"Don't do that," he warns her. His jaw drops when he sees her bare pussy, a moan tumbling from his lips. "I missed her," he groans, and she shakes her head in annoyance. "Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you," he tells her, and he's suddenly hovering over her face, her eyes wide. "I'm going to make you cum on my tongue- finger you a bit until you're stretched," he pauses to act like he's going to kiss her, only to pull back at the last second. "Then, I'm going to fuck your sweet little virgin pussy. That sound okay?" he asks, though it's not really a question. Y/N nods her head vigorously and throws her arms around his neck to kiss him. He moans against her mouth, but before she could slip her tongue into his mouth, he pulls away. "We can do more of that later. Let me taste you," he says, and she bites her lip as he pushes down her body.

"Harry, do something please," she whines and grips his hair in her fingers. He pries her thighs apart and begins with a long lick from her hole to her clit. She throws her head back and lets out a long moan, her fingers fisting in his hair hard enough to make him whine, so she immediately let's go and apologizes. "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

"No, baby," he tells her and places her hands back in his hair. "I like it, I promise, so pull all you want," he assures her and quickly gets back to eating at her. He essentially makes out with her pussy, not caring about how messy or wet anything was getting. He pushes her thighs apart farther and shoves his tongue as deep as he could push into her hole. Her moans and whines could barely be heard over his own. His tongue curls and tries its best to get all of her in his mouth. He's addicted to the way she tastes. He takes his thumbs, using them to spread open her hole wider, so he can really insert his tongue inside her and taste her better.

"Fuck, Harry," she moans. It's like nothing she's ever felt before. It's so much better than anytime she's gotten herself off. Harry himself is pure sex, and it's hard to not let her brain get all muddled around him. "I'm gonna cum," she warns and digs her fingers deeper into his scalp when he switches to flicking at her clit quickly and moving his head side to side. Her orgasm is strong and continuous, taking her a few moments to actually breathe her way to the end. She has to push his head away when the overstimulation begins. He crawls up her body and kisses her cheek.

"I'm gonna have to go down on you again some time tonight," he admits, and she laughs at his eagerness. "Do you feel good? Was that okay?" he asks.

"Yes, and yes," she answers.

"Let me know when you feel ready, and I want you to cum on my fingers at least once before I fuck you," he explains, and she blushes and is a bit taken aback by how he can just talk about this stuff so easily. He sees her blush and smiles. "Don't worry. You'll be as dirty as me soon." His hand moves to her throat, and he teases her lips with his. "Corrupt your innocent little pussy and have you begging for me all the time," he tells her and kisses the corner of her mouth. She shudders.

"You sound very sure of yourself," she tells him.

"And your pussy already loves me. Just let it happen, babe," he sighs, and she giggles.

"M'kay," she agrees in content. "I think I'm ready now." He smiles before he begins to move.

"I'm going to sit behind you, so it will feel a bit safer and more comfortable for you," he explains, and she could almost cry at how thoughtful he is. They maneuver around so that Harry's is against the headboard, and Y/N is leaning back against his chest. He starts by reaching around and grabbing her throat, turning her head so that he can kiss her. They make out for a bit until Harry gets too impatient. "I'm going to start with one finger. Let me know if anything doesn't feel right, okay?" He kisses her cheek for reassurance. "Why don't you rub at your pretty clit while I finger you," he encourages, and she nods. She starts to rub at her clit, and her body sinks further into Harry's. His hand wraps around her, and he brings it to her mouth. "Get it wet, baby," he instructs, and she doesn't waste another second before welcoming his finger into her mouth and getting it wet with her tongue. She sucks on it like it's a dick and swear she feels Harry's dick twitch in his boxers. He takes his finger out of her mouth and rests his chin on her shoulder, embracing her from behind to see what he's doing.

"Feels so nice already," she admits and leans her head back, so they're faces are pressed cheek to cheek. She kisses his cheek right as his finger begins to circle her entrance. She bites her swollen lip and rests her forehead against his temple. He slowly enters the finger, and her hips grind upwards to push it in deeper. "I can take it, H. I promise," she assures him.

"You're tight," he hisses, his own jaw dropping as he feels her warm gummy walls embrace his finger. "And so wet, fuck," he groans, and he can already feel her wetness dripping down his finger.

"Feels really good," she admits, her own fingers still working circles around her clit.

"Can I add a second?" he asks.

"Please," she begs and nods her head in encouragement. She moans when he feels his second finger prod at her hole. She's tight, but there's no resistance as the second finger slides into her.

"You're going to be my perfect cocksleeve," he tells her, his head turning so his mouth is pressed against her cheek, her jaw wide in pleasure. She's almost panting. "Pussy's gonna make me cum so fast and so fucking hard," he admits. "Are you on birth control?" he asks suddenly.

"Yes- yes," she nods her head, throwing it back when his fingers begin to curl inside her.

"Shit- you gonna let me fuck you raw?" he asks and punctuates his words by beginning to thrust his fingers inside her faster. Her pace on her clit quickens to his speed.

"Yes- Oh, fuck- that sounds so good. Wanna- I want to feel your cum in me. Want you to- oh- fill me up," she fights to speak as her orgasm approaches.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, meaning for it to sound condescending, but it comes out whiney. He's on the verge of cumming himself.

"I'm cumming," she warns, but he just keeps his fingers moving inside her. Her orgasm seems stronger but doesn't last as long. The overstimulation comes quicker. "Okay- Okay," she winces and pushes his hand away. He removes himself gently as to not give her any pain. He doesn't waste a second more before he's sucking all her orgasm from his fingers, his eyes rolling into his skull at the taste. Once he cleans himself off, he wraps his arms around her waist to hug her to his chest as she gets her breathing under control.

"You did so fucking well," he praises, and she smiles.

"Thank you," she tells him and kisses his cheek. He looks at her, and when their eyes meet, they both feel the intensity. Their lips meet instantaneously, and she begins to turn around to straddle his lap. One of her hands goes to the back of Harry's head while the other cups his cheek tenderly. His hands settle on her waist, being careful not to make her grind over him in case she's still feeling any overstimulation. When she begins to mess with the waistband of his underwear, he pulls back.

"If you- We don't have to do anything else if you don't-" He's cut off by her hand groping his clothed dick. Harry's back slightly arches off the bed, and he moans quietly at the surprised touch.

"Trust me, I want to," Y/N assures him with a grin. She helps him get his underwear off and then gets back on his lap. They're positioned so that Harry is sitting up at her height as well, making it more intimate than if Harry was just laying down below her.

"It's going to feel deeper this way," he warns.

"Good," she says with a sly smirk, and he shakes his head with a smile.

"You're amazing," he says randomly. She smiles softly before leaning forward to kiss him. It doesn't last long because she's eager to have him inside her.

"I don't- I don't know what I'm doing," she suddenly admits with a laugh, and he laughs as well.

"I'll do all the hard work," he tells her. "Rub at your clit. It will help relax you," he explains, and she listens obediently. She has to raise herself a little so that Harry's dick can be placed at her entrance. "I'm going to push in, but I'll go very slow," he assures her with a serious look. He was so scared to hurt her.

"Thank you, Harry," Y/N smiles and continues to rub her clit when she feels the head of his dick press into her hole. They both gasp at the sensation, and Harry's presses her down until only his tip is inside her.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yes," she moans and fucks herself on the tip, in the process she sinks down about another inch.

"A fuckin' natural," he tells her. He's a little bit over halfway when she presses at his stomach. His eyes dart to hers that are closed shut. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take it out?" he asks in a panic. She laughs at his worriness.

"No, puppy," she tells him. "It's just a lot, and I've never felt anything like this before," she explains, and he nods his head in understanding. "Starting to feel really good, though," she admits and scratches at his abs. She sinks herself a little farther down.

Harry's trying to be on his best behavior, but his instincts are telling him to just grab her hips and start fucking up into her. It's the best pussy he's ever been inside of, and he knows she can feel him throbbing inside her. His balls are tight and round, stuffed with cum that belongs shoved inside her tummy. The thought almost sends him over the edge, picturing her belly and tits, that are still littered with his marking, round and swollen with him. His baby in her womb. The thought makes him whine.

"Are you okay?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Feels- feels too good," he whines and has to throw his head back when he feels her seated on his lap, having taken him all the way in. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing his orgasm away. He thinks all it would take at the moment is the sight of her innocent little body being corrupted, his fat cock shoved as far as it can be inside her pussy.

"It's deep," she comments, her voice almost as whiney as Harry's. Her eyes narrow at him and his distraught expression. He's still refusing to look at her. "Seriously, are you okay?" her voice suddenly worried.

"Yes. I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I'm trying not to cum yet," he explains. "You feel- really, really lovely. The best pussy I've ever been in," he moans.

"It's okay if you want to cum, Harry. I've already cum so much, and this alone feels really good," she assures him, leaning forward to kiss his lips. He whines into her mouth.

"No, no- I think I'm okay for now," he sighs and finally looks at her. He feels as if he just brought himself back to square one. She looks so perfect sitting on top of his cock it almost makes him cry. She's rubbing at her clit and biting her lip with the cutest smirk on her face. "I won't last long," he admits.

"Me neither," she agrees and begins to move herself on him. Her hips grind against his pelvis, making his dick press into spots she didn't know existed. She stops rubbing her clit and instead presses her hands against his shoulders for extra help.

"Fuck- don't even need my help," he comments. "Already the perfect slut," he says through a moan. Her eyes narrow at him.

"I can f-feel your dick throbbing inside me. Who's the- the real slut?" she stutters, the feeling of him stretching her out making her brain foggy and incoherent. He whines at her assertive tone and feels his balls tighten. He sits up further so that he can hug her waist, pulling them close together. He uses his leverage on her to bounce her on him, and the new feeling makes her third orgasm approach quickly. The intimacy of the moment adds to the intensity of her approaching orgasm. They stare deeply into each other's eyes as they both begin to finish with each other.

It's like nothing Y/N's ever felt before when his balls start to leak his cum inside her. Her own orgasm hits her like a truck when Harry's seed starts to fill her womb. He looks so beautiful fucked out in front of her, his eyes welled with tears of pleasure much like her own.

"I love you," he moans and dips his head into her shoulder.

"I love you too," she moans back, wincing when she begins to feel the overstimulation, though Harry's still finishing inside her. "Damn, you had a lot in there," she laughs, and he blushes into her neck. His hips rut into her on their own accord until he finally begins to calm down.

Harry's face leaves its hiding spot in her shoulder, and he looks up at her like she's everything in the world to him. And she is.

She's his whole world.

+++++++++++++++++

im never fucking looking at this story again. took tooooooo long. hope you enjoy though 🤪

[gotta-winwin]

2020 <> can you hear me in the silence?

masterlist

word count: 2.3k TW: downbad!wonwoo, hints at cyana's past, fluff, comfort, one swear word italics are in english, bolded words are in japanese a/n: we love a downbad wonwoo moment and oblivious cyana- this pairing is always so fun to write! threw in a little sneak peak of cyana's past and what's to come...

Wonwoo felt a swirl of guilt and nausea each time he saw Cyana. Ever since that night - where Wonwoo had fainted backstage and Cyana had kindly stayed next to him through it all - he felt he owed the girl immensely. They hadn't talked at all since - Wonwoo knew he was continuing to avoid the girl - not because of his fear this time, but out of guilt. He knew he had been rude and callous to the girl since day one and regretted it deeply.

There was nothing he could say however, each time he tried to speak to her, his tongue refused to cooperate and his throat would close up. He'd end up looking like a fool in front of her, his usually charismatic self reduced into silence.

He figured he had always been better at showing instead of telling.

ONE:

Cyana was woefully overstimulated and it was showing. Her eyes had glazed over, as she sat in between DK and Dino, bearing the front of all the chaos.

Wonwoo knew it had been a long day for the girl. Cyana had been paraded around Tokyo, finishing interviews and photoshoots and still making time to grab dinner with Joshua and Jun. He had seen how eager she had been to crash in her room the moment they had returned back to the hotel. It was purely because she couldn't say no to Dino that she was still awake, joining them all for late night drinks.

"...and then you would've believe what she told me." DK continued on with his story, halfway through his third can of beer. His voice was loud, as the alcohol lowered his inhibitions.

"Dokyeom-ah." Wonwoo cut in before he could continue. His voice was quiet, but firm nonetheless.

The boy in question turned his head to the corner of room where Wonwoo sat. "Oh, hyung."

"Let's lower our voices, okay?" He reminded gently, still eyeing Cyana. "We don't want to get another noise complaint."

DK nodded. "Whoops." He smiled sheepishly. "You're right."

Wonwoo turned to look at Hoshi and Mingyu as well, who had both been cackling over something on Mingyu's phone. "You two as well."

The volume died significantly, and Wonwoo could see Cyana's shoulders relax. He turned back to nursing his own can of beer, watching as she blinked out of her stupor and leaned comfortably against Dino to listen to DK's story.

TWO:

Joshua would've joked that Wonwoo seemed to be stalking Cyana had it not been very true. He could see his eyes following her every move, and wondered whether or not Cyana could feel them too.

"What's going on with you?" He asked Wonwoo as they walked outside for a quick lunch.

Wonwoo frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You've been following Cyana with your eyes like 24/7 ever since our Japan concert."

He could swear he saw Wonwoo blush. "I don't know what you're talking about, man." He denied, moving past him to open the door to the cafe.

Joshua shrugged. It really wasn't any of his business, and Wonwoo always had been a little weird about Cyana since the beginning. His lips quirked up into a tiny smile, enjoying this newfound side of his friend. It was hard to see Wonwoo as anything but calm and collected.

As they sat down to order, he watched from over the menu as Wonwoo scanned the options.

"Have you been here before?" Joshua asked, confused. Wonwoo was looking at the menu like he already knew what he wanted to order.

Wonwoo glanced up before returning his eyes to the menu. "What?" He mumbled. "No."

"How'd you even find this place anyways?" Joshua wondered out loud. "Must be really popular, if you said we needed to come here." Wonwoo had approached him with the idea of going to a cafe 15 minutes away and Joshua had gladly accepted.

Wonwoo shook his head. "It's actually pretty underground." He revealed. "It took me awhile to find."

Joshua frowned. His friend was giving him more questions than answers.

Before he could ask how Wonwoo even knew of the place, the server approached them with a pad of paper, ready to take their order. "Hello, what can I get for you?"

Wonwoo gestured at Joshua to go first. Reaching for his limited knowledge of Japanese, he pointed at the pastry that had caught his eye. "I'll have one of these, please. And a latte."

The waiter nodded, looking over at Wonwoo expectantly.

"I'll have one of these, please." Wonwoo pointed to something on the menu. He paused before speaking again. "And can I take this to go?"

The waiter glanced down at what he was pointing at and nodded. "Yes, I'll have it packed up for you."

"Thank you." Wonwoo nodded in thanks as the waiter left.

--

Joshua kept his questions to himself as they ate, all the while eyeing the takeout container the waiter had placed next to Wonwoo. He finally gave up as they exited the cafe, his curiosity peaking.

"What's in the box?"

Wonwoo looked down at the container he was holding onto, as if he himself hadn't realized he had it. "It's their takoyaki." He explained, shrugging. "Apparently it's the best or whatever."

A lightbulb ignited within Joshua's mind. He recalled a conversation he had overheard two nights ago, as he passed by Dino and Cyana's shared room.

"I think I'd murder someone for takoyaki right now." Cyana had mumbled out, eyes closed as she recalled the flavour. "There was this cafe I went to as a kid that served the best takoyaki. Ever."

Dino had laughed at her want. "Is it far?"

"I don't know." She groaned out, upset. "Don't remember the name. I just know they had like- wooden exterior and bamboo walls." Her nose scrunched as she recalled the memory. "Very traditional Japanese."

"No fucking way." Joshua stared at Wonwoo, his mouth gaped open.

The younger man frowned at him, raising a hand to push his glasses up. "What." He gave him an unamused expression.

"Is that," Joshua pointed at the box in his hands. "For Cyana?"

Wonwoo's cheeks turned red. "Maybe."

"Oh my goodness." Joshua couldn't help but laugh at how adorable the situation was. "You're pathetic, oh my god. Don't tell me you found the cafe just by her description of the exterior."

Wonwoo's face was ablaze as they continued walking. "I google mapped the thing," he mumbled, embarrassed. "clicked on every place that sold takoyaki and checked the exterior for bamboo and wood." He frowned when Joshua only laughed louder. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not-" Joshua wheezed out, slapping Wonwoo on the back. "Props to you, man. That's some dedication."

"Shut up."

THREE:

"Dino?" Cyana called out from their shared hotel room to the boy who was currently in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed.

"Hm?"

She was staring at the box filled with takoyaki, still steaming and hot. "Did you go out and get takoyaki today?"

Dino popped his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. "Nuh uh."

"Hm." Cyana frowned, wondering who had. Shrugging, the scent of the food overtook her curiosity as she sat down and took a bite. "Oh my god." Clasping her hands together as if in prayer, she couldn't help but shiver at the nostalgic taste. "The takoyaki gods have answered my prayers." She muttered through a mouthful.

Dino let out a snort from behind her, having finished getting ready for bed. "More like the takoyaki tooth fairy."

"I am so in love." She mumbled through another mouthful, moving the box away from Dino when he tried sneaking a bite. "You already brushed your teeth, bro."

"This isn't fair." Dino pouted, flopping onto the bed. "Everything you say has been coming true recently."

Cyana frowned, realizing he was right. Just yesterday, she had lingered in front of a store on their way to a interview. A purple and white notebook had caught her attention - perfect for storing her lyrics in. That same notebook had ended up on top of her suitcase later that night - no note, no receipt. Nobody had owned up to the act when she asked during breakfast the next day.

"From how I see it-" Dino was talking, breaking Cyana out of her thoughts. "One of us messed up- bad. And they're trying to get on your good side before you find out."

She gave him a look, taking another bite of her takoyaki. "Or~" She gave him a goofy grin. "It could be my fairy godmother. Finally showing up."

Dino snorted. "Childish."

FOUR:

They were halfway through their North American leg of the tour and Wonwoo could tell returning to LA had done something to the girl. She was no longer participating in their antics and hangouts after concerts - choosing to reside in her room instead. It resulted in Dino having to room with him and Jun, the younger boy moping around like a kicked puppy over losing his roommate.

"Something's very wrong with her." Dino muttered one night, having had enough of everyone pretending Cyana was okay.

"You're just saying that cause she asked to room alone for the rest of tour and you're pissed." Hoshi muttered back.

"No." Dino corrected quickly, getting up from his spot on the couch. "All she does is perform, practice, hide in her room, perform, practice, hide in her room." He listed. "It's like she's in a loop."

"Give her some time." Joshua sighed, and everyone turned to look at him.

"You know something." Dino pointed an accusatory finger at the older boy.

Joshua nodded. "I do. And it's nothing that concerns us. Cyana will share when she wants to share."

Dino huffed, clearly not liking being kept in the dark. "She's my twin, hyung."

Wonwoo could barely pinpoint the sadness in Joshua's eyes, but it was there. "I know. Give her time."

Wonwoo stood up, leaving the room without a word. Knocking quietly on their manager's door, he entered to see him working on his computer. "Can we get a day off?" He asked.

The manager blinked at the sudden request. "What do you want to do?"

"There's a bookstore close by, right?" Wonwoo remembered Vernon saying something about that. "Barnes and Nobles. Can we go?"

He knew it wasn't much, but Cyana had complained a long time ago that she missed having English books to read. He figured he couldn't do much to help the girl through whatever she was going through right now, but this- this he could do.

FIVE:

It was half-past four in the morning and Wonwoo was still awake. It was officially their last day on tour - tomorrow they'd be flying back to Korea. He couldn't tell whether that made him happy or sad. He was relieved though - hoping that maybe being back home would help heal everyone.

Their hotel floor was eerily quiet tonight as all the members had gone to sleep. He figured it was the crash that often came with tour ending - as if their bodies knew it was finally over and the adrenaline that kept them going washed away.

"Jun?" A tiny voice sounded from the entrance of his hotel room, making him flinch at the sudden sound.

He turned, spotting a bleary-eyed Cyana padding in, her feet bare.

"Jun's sleeping." He whispered, nodding towards the boy in question, who was sleeping soundly in bed.

He watched as her shoulders fell and she perched upon the table, her legs swinging gently above the floor. He watched her watch Jun sleep in silence.

It seemed like forever until Cyana spoke, finally raising her head to look at Wonwoo.

"Are you my fairy godmother?" She whispered, and Wonwoo felt as if she wasn't really all there. Her eyes seemed to look through him, as if she was trying too hard to look at him and failed.

He knew what she meant. He simply nodded, afraid that if he tried to say something, his words would betray him.

"Did you do something wrong?" She asked next, rubbing her sleepy eyes to look at him better. "Dino said whoever gave me those things probably did something wrong."

Wonwoo thought the question was very subjective. "Do you think I did something wrong?" He asked her instead, curious.

Cyana shook her head. "No."

"I thought I'd be nice for a change." He admitted. "I felt bad. And you were going through so much."

She didn't say anything, so he didn't say anything else either.

"Thank you." She whispered, after much silence.

Wonwoo could only nod. No need, he wanted to say. Or maybe As long as it helped you - through whatever it is that Joshua won't tell us. Whatever secret he's keeping for you. Whatever happened in LA. But he didn't say any of that- Cyana looked fragile enough.

"I like this."

Her voice shook him out of his thoughts as he looked back at her.

"The silence." She clarified. "You give nice silence."

His lips quirked at the creative way she had put it. He found she always had a strange way with words, but beautiful nonetheless. "Thank you." He didn't know what else to say.

Watching wordlessly as she walked over to Jun, sliding into bed next to him and curling herself up, Wonwoo moved to get ready for bed. By the time he returned, Jun had moved, as if his body could sense Cyana's presence and moved to compliment it - even while unconscious.

He pulled out his phone and took a picture, sending it to Jun for when the boy woke up. Settling into bed himself, he mulled over Cyana's words. You give nice silence. It made him happy just thinking about it. Silence was something he excelled at- and he always believed it to be a weakness. But if his silence was nice, and if it was something Cyana needed - perhaps it was a strength instead.

[wilted-society]

tantrums

pairings: charles leclerc x ferrari sister!leclerc

synopsis: y/n leclerc, the youngest of the leclerc siblings. gets frustrated over the weekend, as her team ignores her suggestions about what they should do with the car. y/n keeps her frustration at bay, but it's difficult when race day comes close and her team is incompetent.

"fuck!" you said as the car crashes down the barrier, losing its power. "putain!" you hit the car with frustration, you get out of the car and walked away. throwing away your gloves in frustration.

"looks like leclerc got herself another dnf right here! ending in P11, how will this look for the young leclerc?" the commentator's voice blasted through the televisions of the viewers.

you made your way to the garage, you took off your helmet and the angry frustrated look was distinct on your face. "y/n you're up for an interview." your manager informed you whilst handing you a drink.

you took it with an angry look, "jesus christ i just got off a race! can't i take a fucking break for a minute?!" your manager nodded, "noted, i will inform them" "thank you, david." yoh thanked the manager. you felt bad for lashing out on everyone, this weekend has especially been tough on you. today was qualifying and you just ended up on P11, there was so much pressure on being the first female driver to enter f2. but if you wanted to make it into f1, you were going to be professional about it.

the tv in front of you played a replay your crash, in slow motion. she felt bad for herself, you felt like you let everyone down. but what else could you do? when you were always the one suggesting to the prema team on what they could do to improve the car, but they never listen. it's all bullshit.

"this is fucking bull." you say to yourself, looking down at the ground. you felt tears swelling in her eyes, you let them drop.

"hey mon ange," charles' voice was heard, you looked towards where charles was and stood up and hugged him. "it'll all be alright." he reassured you. that's when you let it all out. you sobbed into his chest as you felt charles patted your back gently. "it's all a disaster, charles! everything is falling apart. it feels like it's all coming down to me." you ranted in between sobs, charles frowned at the thought of her sister feeling like this. because he understood what it felt like to be in her situation right now. he pulled away and wiped the tears from her face, and said. "hey, it's not the end of the world, ange. it may feel like everything's falling apart right now, and yeah, i can admit that i feel like that, too. i understand you and what you're feeling right now." his eyes witnessed your teary eyes and continued, "i promise you, this isn't the end. and things will be alright. just have faith, ange! alright? can you do that for me?" he asked you assuringly, and you nodded in reply.

"i'll tell you what, when the race is over. we'll get ice cream? you love ice cream." charles smiled at her, "y.. yeah, i would love that very much." you smiled again, wiping those tear-stained cheeks of yours. it was clear that charles beamed at the sight of your smile, "there's that smile! come on, let's go to maman?" you simply chuckled, wiping the remaining tears off her eyes before speaking, "yes, let's go to maman." you two walked out of the garage, and he lets you change out of your attire and into something comfortable. you two made your way to the ferrari hospitality, where you would be getting ice cream and wait for arthur to finish.

a/n: THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!! i kinda wrote this impulsively because i was bored, and i just got discharged from the hospital. and i promised you guys i would finish this fic for you. thank you for being patient! and i apologize if there are any mistakes in this fic, as it was rushed and not actually proofread. thank you for reading my works! as always, stay safe. <3333

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[brokebonewritings]

Dearest, You Said

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags: 18+, Language, Fluff, Getting Together

Summary: You and Matt have been friends since college. Besides Foggy, you would consider him your best friend and saying 'I love you' has always been apart of your vocabulary. When did the lines start to blur, and when did your best friend become so attractive?

Word Count: 2.3K

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A/N: Welcome to my first songfic series! Each one if going to be paired with a song and a lovers prompt! I really hope you enjoys these, and once it's all finished I'll start the next one. Pair this with Je t'aime by Velours Velours

You finished your third shot of the night and slammed it on the table. Both you and Foggy were in a challenge of who could handle the most alcohol. So far, he was winning.

“How are you already on your fifth shot, Fog?” You laid your head on the table in defeat. The coolness of the wood felt nice on your face.

“Just admit you’re too much of a lightweight and this can all end.” He quipped back

“In your dreams!” You say grabbing the bottle, and pouring yourself another shot.

Throwing your head back, the whiskey burns the back of your throat. As you recover you notice Matt walking in with Karen.

“Matty! Karen! Y’all made it!” You wrap your arm around Foggy’s shoulder. “Fog and I were just testing our endurance.”

Karen giggles as they approach the table, and you notice Matt giving one of his famous half smiles.

“Yeah right! More like I’m about to win $100!” Foggy says. You groan as you throw the freshly poured shot back. Holding back the sudden tears in your eyes, you pull out your wallet and hand it to Foggy. Triumphantly, he grabs it and opens it up. Only stopping when he realizes there’s nothing in it.

“What’s wrong, Fog?” Matt says with a smile plastered on his face. Foggy stares as he holds up a small paper that clearly states ‘IOU’.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” He groans. Laughter erupts from the rest of the table. 

You knew in the beginning that he would win the challenge. The prank wasn’t even your idea, it was Matt’s. Both of you planned it out as you sat on his kitchen counter watching him go over some paperwork the previous day.

“Okay okay, here is your payment sir.” You say as you pull a bill out of your pocket. He snatches it from your hand with a ‘thank you’ still shaking his head.

“So how was the interview today?” You turn to Karen with a smile.

“Oh you know, It would have been great if the woman talked to Matt and not me the entire time.” She sighed and looked over at Matt.

“Still?” You gasped “Next time you really should let me come, you know I’ll put them in their place!”

“As much as I love how protective you are,” Matt started “I think I had it under control.”

You flushed at his comment. Both of you had been friends since the first day of college. Well probably not the very first day, but it was sometime around then.

Being protective of Matt was something that came very natural to you. Oftentimes, people didn’t understand that being blind didn’t equal being deaf.  So naturally they would talk louder, or not speak directly to him.

“I’m sure you did.” You huffed looking at the empty shot glass. “Anybody need another drink?”

“Oh I certainly do after beating your ass!” Foggy piped up, prompting you to stick your tongue out at him. 

“Fine, Karen? Matt?” You look towards them.

“I’m good at the moment.” Matt states with a smile.

“I’ll actually join you!” Karen grabbed her purse before getting up.

You both make your way to the bar, before settling on two barstools. Josie comes to greet you both, and you order your drinks with a smile. Karen chats about her day at the office, and some recent cases they were allowed to talk about. You listen attentively and pay for all three drinks once Josie returns. 

Not that you meant to, but you absentmindedly kept looking towards Matt at the bar table. Zoning out everything around you including Karen.

“Hey!” She snaps her fingers in front of your face. “How long are you gonna keep staring at him?”

“Huh?” You shake your head, before turning towards her. “What did you say?”

“I said, You've been staring at Matt for like five minutes, what’s up with that?” She smirked.

“Oh,” You blush and put a few bills in the tip jar. “Nothing, just lost in thought.”

“Yeah I can tell.” She says grabbing her drink. “When are you gonna ask him out?”

Turning bright red, you shush her. Not that anyone around them was listening, but you know that someone potentially was. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grabbing yours and Foggy’s drink you both head back to the little table. Setting the drinks down, you take a seat next to Matt. He turns his head towards you, and you try your best to ignore him.

Foggy clears his throat which causes both you and Matt to turn your heads towards him.

“I really should be going after this drink. Got an early morning tomorrow.” He says and smiles.

“Oh Foggy, I knew it would get to you sooner or later.” You giggle. In return he throws the drink you had just bought him back, and gives you a wink. 

“Oh, y/n, I can go all night baby.”

“Yeah right! In your dreams!” Both you and Karen say, laughing. He shakes his head and grabs his coat.

“See you all tomorrow.” He says before leaving.

“Yeah I think I’m gonna head out too, gotta date with my bed.” Karen says innocently before getting up.

“Oh so you’re gonna leave me here with him?” You draw sarcastically. Matt pretends to be offended by this.

“Please don’t leave me with her. She’s crazy” He stage whispers that last part.

“Yeah…” She winks at you. “Have fun!” 

After Karen leaves, it’s just the both of you. The silence is deafening between the both of you. You look up towards him and begin to play with your glass as he takes a drink from his own. Feeling incredibly awkward and incredibly sober now, you muster up the courage to start a new conversation.

“So how’s Father Lantom?” You try to start a conversation. He smiles and sighs at your effort.

“You don’t want to talk about what Karen had said?” He questions.

You knew it! He was eavesdropping, and your gut feeling had been correct. Sure sometimes you had your doubts, but you could always count on Matt listening in on conversations he deemed interesting.

“You heard all that, did you?” 

“Of course, considering it’s something I'm quite good at.”

His lips pulled up into a smile, he really was an attractive man. There was nothing about him that seemed to be a red flag unless you counted the vigilante shit. Ever since you had met him though he was gentle, funny, and… well just himself.

“Common, let me walk you home.” He offers.

“Shouldn’t I be the one walking you home?”

He laughs at your response and shakes his head. You never noticed the crinkle of his smiling eyes until right this second. Feeling the heat rush to your face, you shake your head to get rid of the thought.

“y/n? You alright?”

“I’m fine, Matty! Let’s go!” You say, getting up out of your seat. 

Matt stands with you and grabs his cane. Once the both of you were suited up in your coats, he took hold of  your arm and you led him out of the bar. It was a very cold night, and you could feel the shiver that ran through his body once you both stepped outside.

Walking down the street you chatted about current life. How your family was doing, and your recent findings at work. Being an archivist, you were able to entertain him with your stories of artifacts, and your newest assistant.

You realize that you ranted long enough once you see your apartment building come into view. Matt had moved his arm so that you wrapped yours around his upper arm, like the true gentleman he was.

“So I guess this is me.” You say as he walks you into your lobby.

“I guess it is.” He stops to turn towards you

He stands there for a moment awkwardly. Goodbyes were always the weirdest for the both of you. Like you never knew when you would see each other again. He clears his throat before giving a brief goodbye.

“I love you, Matty. Get home safe!” You speak up. Watching him turn and pull his lips into a slight smile.

“I love you too, y/n”

With that, he leaves. You rush upstairs to watch him walk down the street from your window. You always hated seeing him go. It was like you never wanted him to leave.

That was the problem though. You wanted him constantly, all for yourself. The thought of him belonging to another hurt. When did it become like this though, you hadn’t really thought about how long you truly like him.

Pulling out your phone, you send him a text reminding him of the birthday present you had forgotten to give him. You always wrote texts like a letter. He had found it amusing once in college, and it just became your guy’s thing. 

You set your phone down on the counter, and began your nightly routine. It wasn’t until an hour later that you picked your phone up and saw a text from Matt. Wait… what?

Matt M. 12:43

So I’m Dearest now?

You 1:57

Dearest Matthew,

What could you ever be talking about?

With Love,

Y/n

Matt M. 1:59

You said  ‘My Dearest, Matthew’. Please don’t stop on my account, it was cute.

Had you really called him that? Maybe you didn’t mean to. 

Looking back at your first text you realize that you had definitely put a comma after the word Dearest. Flushing about the mistake you text him a quick message about heading to bed before heading to your room. It was easy for you to overthink things that should be honest mistakes.

He called you cute for crying out loud. How were you supposed to drift to sleep knowing he thought the situation was cute. Setting your phone on the nightstand, you climb into bed and try to make yourself comfortable. You don’t remember your last thought before drifting off to sleep.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

You jump awake at the sound of knocks on your window. Looking around, you notice it’s still dark outside. Sighing you get up and head into the living room where you know the masked man was waiting at your window. You open up the window to your fire escape and watch as he climbs in.

“You know at this point I’m gonna just leave it unlocked.” You say as you rub your tired eyes.

“That would defeat the purpose of keeping bad people away.” 

“How do I know that you’re not bad, Matty?”

Turning to face him, you see that he has already shed his mask and set it on your side table. You gasp as you see the bruise forming on his cheekbone, and the blood coming off his swollen lip. He grimaces after hearing the noise you just made.

“Jesus, Matt… What happened.”

“Don’t know, some guy… was robbing a woman. He really got me bad, huh?” 

He turns his head up to face you. You never could stand it when he got hurt. So you took up some first aid classes after you had found out about his little hobby. Grabbing your first aid kit from under your sink and a pack of ice, you turn to aid your vigilante.

You slowly start to clean off his lip, and examine it to see if stitches were needed. Nothing too serious seemed to have happened so you gave him the ice for his face and guided him to sit on the couch.

Once you feel that he is taken care of, you head to the kitchen and pour him a glass of water. Too distracted by the task you don’t notice him get up and follow behind you.

“Can we please talk about the conversation you and Karen had earlier?”

You jump at the sound of his rough voice. He looked so seriously at you. It must have really been bothering him throughout the night.

“What is there to talk about?” 

“Don’t play coy, y/n, I know you like me.”

He stepped towards you, trapping you against the sink. You look up in shock to see his gaze was on you. Getting nervous, you feel your heart pounding in your chest. How can this man make you feel this way? You really didn’t understand.

“Sweetheart, I can hear your heart racing.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks at the sound of that pet name. Matt had never called you anything like that before. Yet you couldn’t help but dream of him calling you that more often. Clearing your throat, you finally decide to speak up.

“Okay! Yes, I like you! A lot, Matt.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know…” You quietly defeat. 

You feel his hand rest on your waist. Rubbing small circles with his thumbs. Looking up at him, you notice his cheeks are slowly starting to pinken.

“Do… you like me in the same way?” You ask. Not that you wanted to know the negative answer, but the closure would be nice.

“I do.” 

Watching him swallow hard on the confession, you slide your hands up his arms and rest them on his chest. Feeling his heartbeat was comforting. I guess you finally understand what that felt like.

“What do we do now?”

“Y/n…”

“Matt?”

Instead of responding right away, he leans in close and whispers softly against your lips.

“I love you.”

You smile before replying.

“I love you too.”

Closing the gap, goosebumps rise on your arms as he kisses you. Never in your adult years would you think Matt Murdock would be kissing you. His lips were soft, and the kiss felt like you were both reuniting after a long time apart. 

Time passed by slowly before you noticed him pull away. You open your eyes to see his were  still closed, and a shuddering sigh falling from his lips. This was bliss, and maybe it would stay yours for the rest of your life.

“Matty.”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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[leoluved]

chase and pull (n.b)

summary: nathan likes when you get jealous, but he gets upset when he gets a taste of his own medicine. warnings: smut 18+, established relationship, fem reader, drinking, limo sex, pussy eating, old fashioned nathan, so that comes w the age gap, choking, teasing, degrading, and slightt dacryphilia.. word count: 1.9k

Nathan loved to watch you chase him. 

Even more when he knew that every action he took was bound to have a reaction from you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever the fuck he read in that cosmopolitan. 

Admittedly, he also thought it was a bit entertaining to watch you get jealous. 

To eye you across the room as he mindlessly—and truthfully speaking, barely entertains a subjectively attractive woman speaking to him. Or an interviewer—who’s getting just a little too friendly. His eyes track you as you inch closer, trying your hardest to maintain your calm composure. 

It’s all innocent, Nathan would never actually let these women think he’s flirting back. But if he throws out a hushed out chuckle, raises his glass at something they say. It’s easy to lure them to a false sense of security. 

But Nathan sees the way you’re gripping your champagne glass, and it shoots a signal straight down to his dick. Fulfilling his urge to see you so clearly distraught. He knows that, later, when he has you under him. He’ll be able to apologize. For now, it’s just too cute to see you huff out and pout at him. When he watches you pout, all he can imagine is the way your lips wrap around him. Trying your hardest to take him fully. 

Luckily for you, two can play that game. You finish your glass and scan around the room. Looking for the perfect suitor. Eyes landing on a handsome and tall-er man. He seems closer to your age. Maybe an intern? Doesn’t matter. 

You make your way towards him, peering over your shoulder through your hair to see if Nathan is watching. You smile mischievously when you see his eyes meet yours over the rim of his whiskey glass with an eyebrow perked up. 

Bingo. 

Once you reach the man it’s clear he feels a bit out of place, definitely an intern. You make simple small talk, and watch as his eyes quickly glance down at the neckline of your dress you so casually adjusted lower. Respectfully enough, he returns his gaze back to your eyes. As he speaks, you place a hand on his arm and laugh a little too hard at something he says that isn’t even that funny, really. 

It boosts his confidence, and you see the younger man start to really throw in some charm. It would’ve been cute, had you not been using the poor fellow just to get back at Nathan. Pulling your attention away, you move your eyes back to where Nathan was stood. Surprised when you realized he was walking towards the both of you. 

You silently panic, and just stare back up and nod. The man’s voice becoming background noise. Halfway through his sentence, Nathan makes his way up, and sends the younger man a glare. It shuts him up, and makes him clear his throat before extending his hand. 

“Mr. Bateman.” He meekly lets out, immediately being interrupted by the low sound of Nathan’s voice. 

“Please. Don’t be so formal.” His voice is laced with venom, and his eyes flicker to yours. Before quickly motioning his head to the side, a silent warning for you to walk away. You stand your ground, before clearing your throat almost as to remind him that you’re in public.  

He sucks air in through his teeth, before turning his body to you and boring a hole through you with his slightly squinted eyes. 

“Move along, little girl. I’m busy talking to…” He trails off, turning his head back to the anxious, shaking intern. “What’s even your position, dude? Did I hire you?” 

The intern starts, but Nathan raises a finger to stop him. He takes the final sip of his whiskey, and you watch as his lips purse and his adam apple bobs while the amber liquid goes down his throat. 

Maybe it’s the effect of the alcohol he’s finally feeling, but Nathan decides that chewing this guy out wasn’t even worth his time, he shuts his eyes, momentarily. As if he’s embarrassed that he acted out of line, because of you. 

Nathan sneers before he swiftly grabs your upper arm, dragging you away from the scene. He smooth and fluid with his movements. And smirks when he notices that only his ‘intern’ was watching. Thankful for everyone else being too immersed in their conversations. 

He grabs another drink, a rum and coke, this time; as the both of you keep going. He sets the empty glass down on a random table after a couple of paces and presses you out the back door. 

“Nathan—.” You start, but he continues dragging you until you’re both outside on the curb. 

You shiver in the cold air. Wrapping your arms around yourself. You cross your arms across your chest to try and conserve some heat. 

Nathan’s quick on his phone, and it takes less than four minutes before a limo is pulling up down the road. He opens the door for you, and as you hesitate to get in. He’s sending you an aggravated glare. 

“Get the fuck in. Make this easier for me, would you?” His tone is short, and cold. And it makes you scramble to enter the back seat. You feel sorry for the driver, knowing you won’t hear the end of it for the way you acted tonight. 

You tremble lightly at the warmth in the car, your body trying to regulate it’s temperature. Once Nathan steps in and settles himself, he’s quick to pull you onto his lap. His hands feeling so strong at your thighs. 

Nathan leans up to kiss you, chasing your lips each time you pull away. False sense of security, he thinks once more, allowing you to let your guard down. 

As soon as you start grinding down on his lap. His hand grips at the sides of your throat. He brings his lips to your ear to whisper cruelly at you. 

“Nuh uh.. There’s no way you think I’m going let you cum tonight.. right?” 

It’s a long drive to the hotel room. Either that, or Nathan mentioned a high paying wage for the poor driver to drive through the city. But the torture feels endless. 

That’s how you find yourself face smushed against the black leather seats of the limo. Nathan’s thick fingers slipping deeper into your exposed heat, whining when he rips your black laced panties. Complaining that ‘they were your favorite’.

It earns you a smack on the ass. With a soft yelp you instinctively push your hips further back. Nathan’s thumb barely ghosts over your clit and you jolt at the feeling. Thighs trembling as you start to feel the beginnings of your orgasm present itself. 

You sob out quietly, moving along with his hand to get the friction where you needed it most. Suddenly, Nathan pulls his fingers back, and you whimper at the loss of his fingers. He spreads you for him, watching your hole clench around nothing. He bites back a groan. Before bringing his face to you. 

Nathan blows a breath of air to your exposed cunt that has you bucking away from his touch. He laughs before licking a slow stripe up your pussy. 

“Taste so fucking good, bet you like it when I get mad, huh?” He asks, not giving you a chance to respond before his tongue starts its assault on your slit. You dig your face deeper into the seats, enjoying the light burn of his beard that you were starting to feel in between your thighs. Trying to muffle your moans as you feel his tongue poke at your entrance. He takes his thumb and starts to rub on your needy bud. 

It doesn’t take long for you to get close again, stomach clenching and twitching as you desperately beg Nathan to let you cum. He typically loves when you beg, voice pitched up high while he gets to watch you come undone. But Nathan knew he needed to teach you a lesson. He stops abruptly. Getting himself balanced on his knees before wiping the bottom half of his face and beard. 

It takes a minute, before you hear the telltale sound of a zipper and rustling of his pants being pulled down his thighs. 

He wastes no time, poking his tip to your slicked cunt before shoving himself in until he’s bottomed out and your thighs are pressed together. He clasps a hand over your mouth, just in time for you to let out another sob into his palm. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can hear him chuckling to himself. Giving you no time to adjust, he’s reeling back, only allowing the tip to stay nestled inside of you before slamming himself back. 

Your body gives out at the pace he sets, limply allowing him to use you as a rag doll. Nathan’s cruel with his words, trying to ensure you don’t get too much pleasure out of this. But he knows you will. Knows you melt when he’s rough with you. 

“Little slut.. Wants me to act out for her. I was so close to ruining his life. The way he looked a-at you. Was gonna fire him..Fuuck..” 

You could tell Nathan was getting close, he sped up his pace and his thrusts became sloppy and out of rhythm. Without notice he stills. Trying to stifle his groans. You feel his cock twitch inside you. Taking the brief second to fill your lungs with air. It burns to breathe, and Nathan removes his hand from your mouth at the sound of you breathing in. 

He grips both of your arms with his hands, forcing you upright to continue pounding into you. You’re drooling at this point, gasping as he takes from you. Nathan rests his head against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. The contrast of his actions making your head whirl. 

“Look at the way you take me—So fucking gorgeous, sweetheart.” 

You didn’t realize there was there now tears streaming down your face, smearing your mascara. You turn your eyes to glance at Nathan, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure. 

He abruptly pulls out, watching hazily as he shoots spurts of cum over your dress. You try and control your breathing. Once again hearing the rustling of clothes and the sound of his zipper. He grabs a couple napkins from the limos tiny bar. Half ass-ing the way he cleans you up. He pulls your cocktail dress back down before playfully smacking your ass again. Eventually his arm comes back up to wrap around you as you settle on his chest.

You pout at him, doe eyes glossing over, he knows he didn’t finish you off. You know he did it on purpose. You also know Nathan can be easy to crack when he’s vulnerable in his afterglow. He glances down at you with an amused expression. 

“C’mon, honey. Don’t look at me like that. Just wait till we get back to the hotel.” He purrs teasingly, promisingly. 

As the limo finally comes to a halt, Nathan emerges. Holding out a hand for you to stabilize yourself as you exit the limo. As soon as you do, you hear the sound of the driver door opening. You lower your head to avoid eye contact with the driver. Nathan places a hand on your spine and laughs at your embarrassment. 

“Don’t be so coy. He’s under an NDA.” 

[icallhimjoey]

In 120 Hours

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work as a temp and are offered a very exclusive interview for a very exclusive job. You see, someone needs a personal assistant for a very eventful week, and you happen to be the perfect fit.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, mentions of drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: I have no idea what being a personal assistant entails, or what London Film Festival is actually like, but we can all pretend that this is accurate shit, right? Enjoy!

Wordcount: 3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Have you got any–”

You were already holding a hand out to him. Joe saw, grinned, opened his hand to receive a piece of gum from you and looked out the car window, hand on the door handle but not quite stepping out just yet.

Then he turned in his seat, back towards you a bit, but stared into the space in front of him.

“I’m not sure how I...” Joe trailed off, then looked at you, not finishing his sentence, but hoping that his eyes would do the talking for him.

“Could thank me? Have ever managed to function without me? Will go on living your life without me?” they were all jokes, and you were smiling, but Joe just nodded and went, “Yea,” with a crazed sort of look in his eyes. “Exactly all of those things.”

Joe stalled, looked at you, until you nudged him with a knee.

“Go on, the people are waiting,” Not just the people you could see from the car, but you imagined also all the important people, actors and actresses alike, in the cars queueing up behind you.

“Come with me,” Joe suddenly said.

“I will, I’ll see you right after the–”

“No, come with. Let’s do the whole thing together,”

You hesitated. This wasn’t in the job description. Lots of things hadn’t been, sure, but those things had been, you know, not quite so out in the open. Not like red carpets were, anyway.

“I think we’ve been spotted together enough as it is, I don’t want you to-”

“I kind of don’t want to get out without you.”

And you frowned, but only slightly, because there was that smile again. Fuck, that smile had gotten you into enough trouble as it was, and Joe fucking knew it too.

You checked the time. There was over twelve hours left still, technically speaking. That was over ten per cent of the entire job – quite a few too many hours to screw everything up and risk not getting paid. You had said you were reliable. Professional. You couldn’t, really...

“Please?” Joe opened a hand, presenting you with his palm.

But, ugh.

Fuck it. Why not?

You grabbed Joe’s hand and silently wondered if this was breaching the NDA you’d signed. Maybe not. You knew exactly who it was going to piss off though...

Stepping out of the car with Joe, you were met with girlish screams of adoration. Well, Joe was met with girlish screams of adoration. Then cameras flashed brightly, blinding you almost instantly, and you thought back to how precisely one hundred and six and half hours earlier, you would’ve never envisioned that this is where you’d end up.

Doing a red carpet with Joe.

In a slutty dress. With slutty high heels on. Without the engagement ring on.

Not even a full five days had passed...

Not even a full six days had passed, since you’d phoned your friend and she had told you about the vacancy. The whole thing felt like a vague fever dream now, like it had happened years ago.

“Please tell me you have nothing going at the moment,”

It was a weird way for your friend to answer her phone when you called to ask her if she had time to go for drinks that week. Because, consequently, you had all the time for all the drinks, you see, because you had absolutely nothing going at the moment.

No professional things. No personal things. Zero job. Zero fiancé – you really had to remove that ring, but you couldn’t yet. It used to belong to your grandmother before, after all, so it kind of felt like if you just wore it on another finger, it’d be fine.

Still adjusting to life as a single woman - with big bills that belonged to single women - working as a temp and having a best friend work at a temp agency, the two of you seemed a match made in platonic heaven. She always kept all the good stuff back for you, called you on her breaks to slip you information she definitely wasn’t meant to be giving you, so you could officially apply for the right jobs at the right times and use the right words to actually be invited to the interviews. It was perfect.

Sometimes, the good stuff would be going through PowerPoint presentations in stuffy conference rooms in deeply exotic places, like Belgium. Or you’d manage an entire office for two weeks, a holiday-cover that would start Christmas eve and left you in charge of a lot of empty desks because, didn’t everyone take time off around Christmas and New Year’s?

But then, other times, the good stuff was actual good stuff and had you help run huge music festivals, unexpectedly brushing shoulders with the likes of The Wombats and Liam fucking Gallagher backstage wearing knee high wellies, covered in mud.

“Oh my God, what have you got?”

No dillydallying. As a temp, there was never time. All jobs came fast, and all jobs went fast.

“It just came in, this phone call is unbelievable timing because I’m allowed to recruit for fucking once, finally, and you’d be so perfect for it!”

She had said that too when you’d been hauled off to dog-sit a poodle for some CEO of a company you had never heard of for two months, so you held off on the jumpy excitement your friend seemed to be exuding down the phone.

“It’s very short term and the money is amazing – I need a personal assistant for a high-profile client.”

“How short term, how much money, how high-profile?”

Like you said, no dillydallying.

“We’re talking not even a full week, just five days, all expenses covered and the salary’s generous. Very generous. And the money isn’t even the best part.”

Temping meant everything was short term, but this was the shortest a possible job had ever lasted you.

“Okay,” you said, knowing things were always too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

“If this is for a tory politician, or like, actual royalty, I’m out,” you warned, earning a huffed laugh from your friend.

“Don’t let this put you off, but there’s nothing else I’m allowed to tell you. You’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I can even send the job description over, and I’ll need you down in London for the interview as soon as possible, like, today? Could you do today?”

Oh, she was serious serious.

Okay, so... what was five days, really? If it was shit, it’d be over quick enough. You could really use the money too if it really was as good as your friend was making it out to be. And maybe you’d meet Meghan Markle, you know, if it was actually going to be royalty.

“Are we... are we talking like, Hugh Grant or whatever? Adele, maybe?”

Your friend laughed heartily.

“I can’t tell you anything else until you sign the NDA, but, I’m being so honest with you right now, you’re not going to want to pass this one up.”

And so, you’d given her the go ahead. Sure. Try get me in for an interview, why the fuck not? She said she’d make a call, get your CV into the right hands, and would call you back in a minute. When she did, not all but 11 minutes later, she’d already e-mailed you the NDA to sign. The interview wasn’t that day, but the day after – still too soon, but ok – and if successful, you’d start immediately too.

“Don’t worry, I think the interview’s just a formality – they love your CV, and from the sounds of it, they’re desperate. You’re a shoo-in. Get that NDA back to me and I’ll send you everything you need to know.”

She ended the call letting you know to reach out to her if you had any problems, and you said you would, knowing very well that you wouldn’t. You didn’t have problems. It was part of your charm. You carried solutions. You were dependable, reliable, one hundred percent guaranteed to make everyone’s life easier.

The only person you ever made things difficult for, was yourself. The proof of it was around your ring finger – on the wrong hand now, but still there.

From the names mentioned in the e-mail, which you’d immediately googled, you became none the wiser. They really kept you in the dark about who you were going to be working for, and the job requirements list was a lot. But you were good at job interviews. You knew the right things to say, the right energy to exude, the times to smile, the times to frown in serious thought – you could sell yourself better than you could sell anything else.

And you were competitive to a fault. No matter how arrogant of a celebrity was going to need someone handling their business for five days; you were going to get that job, and you were going to excel at it. Watch me, you thought, as you packed a carry-on with enough underwear to last you five days in case you were right. And if you were wrong, you could just spend money you didn’t have and maybe stay in London for a few days anyway. Visit old friends and old familiar places, because you kind of missed the place if you were being honest.

The next day your train had been late, and the tube had been packed, and you’d almost been run over three times, but you didn’t care. London was gritty and grimy and perfect. The London-shaped hole in your heart could really only be filled with the smell of searing, hot dust that lingered underground and became thicker and more prominent the deeper down escalators would take you.

You aced the interview. Of course you did.

Every question you were asked felt like they were trying to find reasons to not give you the job. They were all questions about what you thought about certain things, what your opinions would be about certain situations, what you really wanted, and you’d rudely interrupted. You’d said that none of it mattered, did it? It didn’t matter what you thought about anything, what your opinions were or what you really wanted in any situation – what mattered was that you would do your job. What mattered is whatever the client wanted.

They’d congratulated you. Said you got the job. And then, right on cue, the door had opened behind you.

“Joe, come in, meet your new PA who’s going to be with you for the rest of the London Film Festival.”

Joe mother fucking Quinn walked in, smiling, looking at you, like you were an actual person that people could actually perceive.

“Hi, nice to meet you.”

It was only a brief introduction before Joe was off again, called out of the room by someone else, and he said he'd see you later. Smiled again, and God, it was the kind of smile that could defrost the coldest of hearts. Joe's expression was objectively neutral, this was just his face, but his eyes exuded kindness in its purest form. Almost dreamily so.

You cleared your throat as the door shut behind him. All right. Back to business.  

You were talked through the things you had already read the day before; the things you'd received in your e-mail. Things that didn't really need further explaining, but you listened politely anyway. You got a long explanation of how NDAs worked and it was almost laughable. Yes, they'd sue you if you broke it. You got it. But they were very adamant, needed to make sure that you really did in fact get it. Having to drag you to court wouldn't just be an awful thing for you personally, they also didn't want to do it because it was a lot of work on their end which they didn't have the time for.

Noted.

"All right. Get your things and meet us downstairs, your car is waiting."  

"Car? Where are we going?" 

"We're not going anywhere. You are. The itinerary, his full schedule, you'll find it all in your e-mail."  

And when you looked at your phone screen, you saw you'd just received it, mere seconds earlier. Man, these people ran a tight ship. 

Opening your e-mail in the car, you were greeted by a digital calendar that had all of Joe's days planned out, down to the literal minute. You could see past the five days that you would be working for Joe too, and although less busy, Joe had things happening nearly every day for at least the upcoming three months it seemed.  

"Wow,"  

This was... a lot.

It had everything on there. Wake-up calls, car pick-ups, lunch time, phone calls, coffee breaks, fittings... 

There were several film screenings scheduled every day, obviously, that was how film festivals worked, and you wouldn't get to go to any of them. You weren't hired to sit and watch films with Joe, unfortunately. You were hired to haul Joe from one place to the next. Accompany him. Get him coffees. Check for schedule changes, because, “Everything is always up for change, so you better keep an eye out!”. Things could be delayed, or be postponed, or switched around – times, or locations – and it'd be up to you to sort things out. Make it all run smoothly. It was your job to make sure Joe would get to the places he needed to be on time.  

"And he needs close eyes on him, because he tends to wander. Keep him company. He's used to having someone with him. A family member, a friend, but none were available for this. So, now he'll have you."   

So... you were a luxurious babysitter, if you really thought about it.  

"What other things are important? Anything that’s not been mentioned yet that needs special attention?" you had asked, and were met with a fast answer. 

"Networking."   

This whole week was all about Joe being seen and being spoken to by industry giants. Joe was invited to see many films, just about all of them, but it wasn't necessary for him to actually watch all of them. As long as he went to meet the directors, he'd be solid. 

There were other obligations too. Besides the screenings there were screen talks, in depth-interviews, panels, debates, workshops, partner events (Joe wouldn't be going to those, no worries) and networking events (Joe had to absolutely be going to those, worry a lot). The industry happy hours were where it all happened, you'd been told several times. 

Then, on Monday, day four, there was Joe's film screening - not his film, but the one he starred in. That showcased him. It'd be followed up by a Q&A, and then of course, happy hour after.  

To make things even easier, more simple, not at all hectic or stressful: Joe also had studio photoshoots, two of them, and phone interviews to accompany the shoots. They were scheduled, slotted tightly in between all the in-person events and to be honest, it all seemed a bit much. Too much. No wonder they hired a PA for the week. This was overwhelming to say the least. 

Your duties would end after the most important day. The awards ceremony. Film Festivals were a competition, and there were awards up for grabs. You'd need to make sure that after five extremely busy days, Joe would make it to the ceremony in one piece, in the right outfit, and at the right time, because people had already been talking, and Joe was meant to give a little speech up on stage if his film was to win.

"Remind him of that. Maybe help him with the writing, too?"  

Sure. Why not?  

"And there'll be two boxes delivered, not huge ones, it'll only be about 5000 copies, but they all need signing,"  

Delivered where? Copies of what? 

"Copies?" you asked, deadly afraid of sounding stupid. 

"Photographs."  

Oh. Alright. Of course. Yes. Fine. 

In the backseat of a car, on your way to wherever they were taking you - they hadn't been clear at all - you saw that the signing of the photographs hadn't been added into Joe's schedule yet. You put down a few options and would check with Joe later until what time he minded working before you'd set it in stone. First task done. Your job had officially started. 

Five days. One hundred and twenty hours of this. You checked the time. One hundred and eighteen still to go, technically, but, who was counting?

The car stopped and you heard the ratcheting of the handbrake being pulled by the driver. You'd arrived. 

"Um, where are we?" you asked, undoing your seatbelt and gathering your things, but before the driver could answer, your door was opened from the outside. 

"Hey, welcome," it was Joe, and he held out a hand to help you out of the vehicle. What a gentleman. That warm smile, there it was again. 

"Are you ready?" Joe asked, taking your suitcase from you with an excited glint flickering in his eyes, and you weren't sure exactly what you were meant to be ready for. The whole week, was the correct answer.

Joe walked ahead of you, up the steps of a beautiful South London terraced house. Quite the mansion, by London standards. Joe stopped and turned as he reached the door. "I've only just moved in, so please, don't mind the boxes and, um, the lack of furniture. It's a mess. The only room properly done up is yours, so don't worry about that! They've made sure that at least one of us has a nice bed to sleep in,"  

 Oh.  

"They made it look like a proper hotel room, I'm kind of jealous of it,"

This was Joe's home. His actual place, where he... you know, lived, and stuff. And where apparently, you were going to be staying too.  

"This is your house?"  

Joe stood in the door opening, and beckoned you in.

"It's just easier to have you close, come on in,"  

Oh, this was going to be an interesting couple of days. 

"Wonderful, thanks."

---  

The Taglisted: 

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[petit-papillion]

2023 Qatar GP Post-Race Interviews

18 drivers (not counting SAI and HAM). 1 so ill he could not finish the race (SAR), 1 taken to medical center and excused from media duties (ALB), another to medical center after almost passing out after getting out of the car (STR). 3 to podium ceremony/cooldown room. The remaining 12 drivers all had to lay down on the floor and seriously cool down, before finally making it to the media pen (although 1 had to leave to cool off more after answering only 2 questions (HUL)).

Here are some of the comments made by the drivers:

"By far the most physical race I've ever experienced. I felt close to fainting in that race. I've never experienced anything like it before. I had to ask my engineer to give me encouragement just to try to take my mind away from it. I do a lot of heat training in the sauna and so you push your body to the limit and sometimes you just need to get out of that sauna. And that's sort of how I felt from about lap 20. I opened my visor for the whole race and it was hot air, but it was better than no air. It was brutal. I was so sick in the car. I wasn't physically, I wasn't sick, but I felt ill."

- George Russell

"I was feeling ill, lap 15, 16, I was throwing up for two laps inside the cockpit. And then I was like, ‘Shit, that’s going to be a long race.' (...) It was just like 80C inside the cockpit this race. I don’t think we probably do the best job in terms of not keeping the heat in the back, but dissipating it inside the cockpit where the driver drives, and I think that was probably the reason today why we felt so bad."

- Esteban Ocon

"Especially with the g-forces, when you have a lot of dehydration, you can drink but the drink is more of a tea than anything else because it’s at 60C-plus, so it’s extremely difficult to hydrate yourself and again with the g-forces, you don’t see as well. The track limits we’re speaking about are [the difference between just] centimetres at 280km/h; in qualifying when we’re fresh it’s difficult to respect them, but then at the end of the race it’s a nightmare."

- Charles Leclerc

"You don't want to be passing out when you're driving at 200mph down the straight. And that's how I felt at times. Any hotter, I think I'd have retired because my body was going to give up."

- George Russell

"Extremely hot. Even from the beginning, I put my helmet on before the start of the race and I was sweating. It definitely didn't get any better once I was driving! Very hot."

- Oscar Piastri

"I asked my team on the radio if they would tip water over me in a pit-stop, but it was not allowed. My seat was burning hot and felt my right side was burnt by this heat. We have to think for the future -- maximum temperatures or maximum humidity... In football, they have water breaks, but we can’t have that, can we?"

- Fernando Alonso

"It's ridiculous. These temperatures -- everything goes blurry. The last 25-30 laps it's just blurry in the high-speed corners. Blood pressure dropping, just passing out, basically, in the high-speed corners with high loaded G-forces. The kerbs are now painted because they're worried about punctures. I couldn't see where I was going because I was passing out. I was fading in and out. The temperature was too much."

- Lance Stroll

"The feeling is like torture. I would say it was harder than Singapore. Just because the temperature in the cockpit started to be almost too much, I think it's getting to the limit and someone is going to have a heat stroke."

- Valtteri Bottas

"It was crazy. I had to consistently open the visor to breathe, actually. It's just too, too hot. Obviously, I don't want to open the visor because sand also comes through the visor and I could feel that sand inside my eyes, but if I close it's insane the amount of heat I felt. I don't know if other helmet manufacturers are the same, but for myself, it was tough, and if you drive behind another car, it's even worse."

- Yuki Tsunoda

"I think some of the guys who are struggling today, they are extremely fit or even fitter than me. Just the whole day, it's like you walk around in a sauna and in the night, the humidity goes up. The races are quite long. But it's not the only place...a few places are like that. Singapore is almost like a two-hour race and it's very, very warm. I think it's also quite on the limit of what should be allowed. So there are a few things to look at, but this was definitely way too hot."

- Max Verstappen

"We're in a closed car that gets extremely hot in a very physical race and it's frustrating.. I guess on TV, it probably doesn't look very physical at all. But clearly, when you have people who end up retiring, or are in such a bad state, it's too much. For the speeds we are doing is it is too dangerous. I know this race is later on in the season [in 2024], it will be a lot cooler a few months later but it’s something that needs to be talked about and I’m sure we’ll speak about it as it shouldn’t have happened in the first place."

- Lando Norris

The 2023 Qatar Grand Prix, everybody.

Sources: The Race, Sky Sports, Fox Sports, ESPN, Sports Illustrated

[baby-alien11]

Dinner with the Ulrich family (Y/N Ulrich universe)

My requests are open btw (unfortunately for many of you, I won't write smut for Jack for the simple fact that I'm three soon to be four years older than him and I would be uncomfortable writting that for him, there are enough people sexualising him on tik tok which is wrong because he turned eighteen like a few months ago)

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @aonungsgirlfriend @ethanlandryluver

Lately, things have been bussy in Jack's life because of the new fame he gainned for Avatar and Scream VI, making him a little tired because of the interviews and next projects to film, so in a week when he didn't had any compromises he decided to spend a day with you in your house (of course after going to the gym), and Butters was also there

During most part of the day, the two of you spend time in your room watching movies and sleeping, with Butters and baby dragon Jake between you to, the only times when both of you leave the bedroom was to go to the bathroom or to eat when Skeet called you

That was until the middle of "Hamilton", when Skeet openned the door, with the sight of the two of you laying in your bed with Butters sleeping in one of your pillows

"Kids, time to get up", Skeet said turning the lights on, "Dinner's ready"

"Can we go when we reach the final of the first act?", you asked with sweetness, "It's only one song left"

"You can finish it later", Skeet responded, "Come on, the food is going to get cold"

Sighing in defeat, you and Jack got up from your bed to walk downstairs with Butters following close

At first you only were expecting a small dinner between you, your dad, Jack (and Butters), so you were surprised and happy to see two blond heads in the dinning room

"What are you doing here?", you smiled hugging your older siblings

"Dad said he needed help with the two tornados in his house", Naiia joked

"The champ!", Jakob exclaimed hugging Jack

"Hey man", Jack answered with a smile

After setting the table with the plates and drinks for everyone and serving Butters food, the five of you sit at the table to eat the chinese food that the twins had bought

"So, how was everyones day?", Jakob asked

"Surprisingly, chill", Skeet responded causing you and Jack to look at him with offense

"Wait, the two tornados haven't done a dissaster?", Naiia said in shock

"Today they are chill, so I got to talk with my agent about going to the MEGACON with a little Scream reunion", Skeet revealed causing big smiles on everyone

"That's awesome", Jack exclaimed

"Who's going?", you asked

"Neve, Matthew and Jamie", Skeet answered

"The OG's", Jakob joked, "So, I have a question about that, is Stu really dead?"

"Jack", you said turning to look at your boyfriend, "Ethan also had a TV falling into his head, what do you think about Stu's fate?"

"If Ethan is dead after that, also Stu", Jack shrugged

"Yeah, but Ethan was stabbed like a million times, Stu not so much", Naiia replied, "He could be alive, with scars and in a mental facility"

"Just like in the Tik Tok theories", you exclaimed

"What if we call uncle Matthew and ask him?", Skeet interrupted taking out his phone

Putting the phone on speaker, it was only a few seconds of the ringtone when he answered

"What's up Skeet?", Matthew greeted from the other side

"Hey man", Skeet greeted, "My kids want to ask you something"

"Hi, uncle Matthew", you speak due to being the "baby" of the family, "We were having a debate about the first Scream, is Stu alive?"

Instead of an answer, the only thing that was heard after the question was the sound of the call ending

"He hang up on us", Naiia pointed

"So rude", Jakob commented, "Anyways, Jack, how's everything?"

"Crazy", Jack admited with honesty, "That's the word to describe everything that is happening"

"Including the Ethan defenders?", you joked feeling how Butters jumped into your lap, "He was at econ, I know, trust me"

"That is actually fun", Jack laughed

"Believe me kid, you are going to have a lot of that", Skeet joked

"Yeah, it's not cool to see thirst traps of Billy Loomis in my for you page", Naiia murmured

"Oh my god, I thought I was the only one", you sighed

"What?", Skeet exclaimed in confusion

"It's for the scream tag", Jakob explained

"There a lot of videos dedicated to every character", Jack continued, "Including the theories, rankings and so much more"

"Welcome to Gen-Z, dad", Naiia joked

While the four of you laughed at that comment, Skeet only smiled at the sight of his four kids (including Jack) having fun

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Congratulations!

Can you do “Why do you need my approval?” W/Santiago Garcia?

Thanks!

100 Follower Celebration: Don’t Be Stupid

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F!Reader

Warnings: Aggressive and Possessive Santi, language, allusions to creepy older men, bad Spanish because I’m a no sabo

A/N: Hello angels!!! I know that this isn’t my typical bread and butter but… this is my guilty pleasure and I had soooooo much fun writing this. A couple of housekeeping measures… I am a no sabo kid. To my non Latinx friends that means that while I am Latinx, and did speak Spanish as a primary language for the first 5 years, I was moved to another part of the country and lost my ability to speak Spanish. So I’m trying to learn it again. It’s hard. For my Spanish speaking sisters and brothers, give me so grace, because I am trying. Secondly, I think I have two more 100 follower Drabbles, and then we can finish Interviews for New Beginnings and the other requests I got! Love you all so much my darlings!! Have a wonderful dayyyyy - Mo 💕

Summer nights in Florida were always far too hot. It was the price of living in paradise. The heat of the afternoon's sun baked into the pavement and stucco walls now radiated back onto your thinly covered body. The surrounding water made the air far too wet, and immediately upon going into the outside air did you feel the thin film of sweat and honeyed air cling to your face, arms and legs. Summer nights were brutal in heaven.

But you would never leave it. Not for a million dollars. And neither would your Delta Force boys.

It was on these brutal nights where you tried to beat the heat and the stickiness by going out to the dive bars in Ybor City, the smaller and rowdier younger sister of Tampa. The crowds were easy to get lost in, and the music was thumping no matter where you stood; which was just the medicine you and your friends needed on a night like this.

In the back corner of such a bar, you were squished between Frankie and Santi, trying to fit in the massive and unruly Ben and Will to this too small table. "Whats good boys!? And baby girl, looking beautiful as always." Ben laughed out with a toothy grin. He was always all too happy to be with you all. And if a night out also involved a couple drinks, he was more in paradise than usual.

You laughed mirthlessly at his flirtatious jokes. He always threw one your way whenever he got the chance. You only wished that Pope would do the same.

Though you met the rest of the boys when you joined the Delta Force, you had actually known Santi since middle school. Your mom moved you both to the apartment next to his back in the 6th grade. When the creepy older men were harassing you on the way down to the school bus, Santi stepped in. And from that day on you never walked to the bus, or rode the bus alone. He kept the creeps and bullies away. You helped him with his math homework. Perfect partners. Best friends. A perfect pair. And God how you were in love with him.

You both had had your flings and boyfriends and girlfriends. But they all came and went. You were there and he was there when it eventually went to out the window. Some times you wondered if maybe he felt the same ache in his chest as you. But you pushed it to the side. He never saw you that way. He never would. You were best friends. A sister to him. It would never be more. And it never bothered you until recently. Maybe it was because you were getting older. Maybe it was because your girlfriends were having babies and in serious and solid relationships. Yet you were still here. Drinking barely cool enough beer with the Delta Force ding bats. You loved them. You loved them more than life and would and have put your life on the line for them. But you were getting older. You wanted to be seen as a woman. Not just another teammate.

Santi smirked and ruffled your head like a child, messing up the hair you had corralled into a pony tail, "Chiqitita muñeca is pissy tonight. Heat is getting too much for her."

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. Frankie looked up from his ever present hat, "Pissed because she is stuck next to you and you won't let her up. Querida vamos. Let's get you another drink. This white boy at the bar has been giving you eyes all night and I wanna put him out of his misery."

Benny and Will whooped and laughed and your eyes widened, "Fish stop no he's not."

Frankie stood up, stretching out his long limbs and shaking his head, "He is. C'mon you haven't been putting yourself out there and it's dumb."

Frankie was right. You hadn't. In the past 3 years you hadn't even gone on a date because you were hoping, HOPING, that Santi would maybe make a move. That he would do something. But he hadn't. And you were tired of waiting. Frankie pulled you by the hand out of the booth and out of Santi's orbit. You smoothed out your cotton sundress, turning to the rest of the boys in the booth you hold yourself out to be appraised, "Yay or nay? Do I look gross?"

Will gave a thumbs up while Beni gave theatrical worshipping bows, "Hot sexy hot sexy hot sexy. Go get em tiger."

You noticed that Pope hadn't said anything, you turned to him waiting, "Pope??"

Eyes stern and cold he didn't even look up from his beer, "Why do you need my approval?"

You stomach dropped, and your face crumpled. Frankie rolled his eyes, "Coño la madre, don't listen to Pope you know how he gets when he's PMSing. You look nice. C'mon white boy is waiting. "

White boy was indeed waiting for you. His name was Connor. Clean cut. Not a Florida native which you clocked before you even made it up there. Worked in financing in downtown. Loved the Florida lifestyle but was still getting used to it. Super polite. Cute. And wanted to get to know you and buy you drinks and call you pretty. Soon any insecurity you had about Pope was miles away.

Frankie was pleased with himself, and brought back a round of beers to the table. Will and Benny were snickering in their seats, and Santi... well... Santi was fuming.

"What the fuck was that Fish?"

Smirking, he took a sip of his drink, "Que paso? No te queires chiqitita si?"

"Cabron, tu sabes quiero ella."

Benny cut in, "Hey hey hey. Don't let the gringos out man! Pope why are you getting pissed off? Nothing happened?"

Will spoke up, "He's pissed because Frankie basically delivered Chiqi to khakis boy over there."

Benny shrugged, "And??"

Will turned to him, looking as if Benny had grown another head, "And... Pope has been in love with Chiqi this entire time?? And Frankie knows that?? Benny did you get too many punches to the head or something?"

Benny’s eyes widen. The pieces fitting together. Will rolled his eyes, but Santi couldn’t care less. He was enraged with Fish. And Fish didn’t even care!! Fish knew that Santi had been in love with you for years. That he wanted you more than anything or anyone. That he had purposefully cut in on past relationships to keep you to himself. That he had building the courage to finally ask you to be his and only his. And yes here comes Fish. Delivering you to some… to some guy at a bar?

Frankie finished his beer and looked into his best friend’s eyes, “Hermano… I love you man. But you’re being a little bitch. No in fact you’ve been a bitch. Chiqi has been free and available for three years and you’ve done nothing about it. She’s clearly head over heels for you and you have been tiptoeing around it for no reason. You’re stupid. Chiqi deserves more. And if you’re angry about it you can go fix it.”

Frankie held his arm opened, lighting the way to you. He saw you laughing, your smile bright, things that he wanted to reserve for him and him alone. The things he had said were for him. The moment he saw Khaki’s hand brush up on your thigh, he saw red. He downed the rest of the beer that Frankie had gotten for him, and pushed his way out of the booth. The whoops and laughs from his brothers faded into the buzz behind him as he made his way to you.

“So… if it’s alright with you, I’d really like to take you out to dinner. Maybe next week?”

Connor was cute you thought. Not the same breathtaking handsomeness that Santi had, but Connor looked sweet. He looked honest. He would do for a boyfriend. You smiled, about to accept and give him your number, when Santi shoves himself in between you and Connor. “Oye Chiqi. Come dance.”

Connor gets up to look at you, “Hey man she’s with me relax.”

Santi turned around, “She’s not actually she came with me.”

You pushed Santi’a shoulder, “What the hell bro? Connor I’m sorry. This is Santi, we grew up together and he’s stupid protective and drunk. Santi can you please go back with Frankie I’m talking to someone.”

Without looking away from Connor Santi answers, “mm not drunk. I’m just making clear what’s mine.”

Connor looks at you and then Santi. Before he sheepishly smiles, “It was nice meeting you. I hope you guys figure things out.”

Connor walks away and you feel the rage building inside you, as Santi triumphantly turns back to you. You shove Santi’s shoulder, barely moving him, “You’re such a fucking asshole Pope. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Dance with me.”

“I’m not fucking dancing with you.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you to the dance floor despite your protests, your skin burning in shock and anger where his hand clutches your wrist. You make it to the center, him hungrily grasping at your waist. You’re pissed off but also so confused at this change in temperature. Santi won’t stop looking at you. Those dark lashes attempting to hypnotize you back into his orbit. He brings his mouth to your ear, “When’s the last time you danced with me Chiqi?”

You scoffed, but brought your arms to wrap around his neck as he tugged you closer, chest to chest, “Senior prom. After Michael Vazquez left me for Torrence Sheltzer. And I stepped on your toes all night.”

He laughed, “Michael was such an idiot.”

You stay like that. The bass coursing through your body, right in time with the pounding of your heart against Santi’s chest. He was always a good dancer. Too good of a dancer, it was almost obscene the way he had you moving against him. You don’t know how long you had been spinning, and you had to rest your head on his shoulder because of how light headed you became.

“You shouldn’t have done that Pope. He was nice.”

“He was a wimp. Wouldn’t be able to take care of you.”

“What you’re going to chase away any man who comes up to me? I’m tired of being alone.”

“You’re not alone. You have me.”

“You know what I mean.”

He pulled your face off his shoulder to make you look in his eyes, “I do know. And i know what I said. You have me. You’re mine. I’m yours.”

You feel tears in your eyes. Either from the smoke, the alcohol, or the embarrassment, “Santi stop being stupid. You’re being mean. You know I love you and you’re making fun of me.”

He presses his dry lips to the tear that escapes your eye, then puts his forehead to yours, “I’m not Chiqi. I’m not. Chiqi I’ve loved you since the 8th grade. I’ve hated every one of your little boyfriends and I’ve coveted you for years. I’m not joking.”

“Then why haven’t you said anything? Why didn’t you come get me when I was right here?”

The tears fall more now. And he keep kissing your cheeks to remove them, “Because I’m an asshole. I’m a fucking asshole who was too afraid of you saying no. Too afraid of when you left. I didn’t want to lose you. But I can’t take it anymore Chiqi. I can’t take another boyfriend. I’m selfish. I’m a selfish asshole. I want you for myself. I want you to yell at me and call me stupid as long as it means you never leave my place and you never leave my side. Cmon Chiqi…. Let me call you mine.”

You stared at him. He was telling the truth. He was being raw and real and you knew that this wasn’t some act. This was Santi in his rawest form. He wanted you. You brought your hand around to squeeze his cheeks together, “I want you to take me on a date. A real one. Not the bar or the bowling alley with the boys. I want dinner that you pay for. And flowers. And for you to wear a real shirt.”

He shakes your hand off and smiles, “Tomorrow night. I take you to The Colombia. I pick you up. With roses.”

“Do I get to order flan?”

He smiles even wider, “Only if you let me feed it to you like those stupid romance books you read.”

You shove him and he laughs and pulls you closer, “Kiss me and seal the deal Chiqitita. C’mon don’t be mad. Kiss me and tell me you’re mine.”

You couldn’t keep yourself from laughing, making him work for your kiss. You finally relent, pulling him in for the best kiss ever. The best kiss of your life. Until tomorrow’s

[bellewintersroe]

Carlos Sainz x Celebrity OC Mer&Der trope… Part 2.

Jenna Ashley, a well known actress and model has been hired for the 2021 Grands Prix a reporter. It’s her first day on the job tomorrow and heads to the bar to shake the nerves she feels, what she doesn’t expect is to bump into a handsome, Spanish F1 driver in the exact same bar. Also IK F1 drivers can’t drink the night before a race but this is a fanfic let’s just go with it for the flow. Just a pre warning, this contains smut, mentions of drinking and swearing, so 18+. This is a flashback to what Jenna remembers from the night before interviewing Carlos on the grid. Kinda like a prequel to part 1 you could say?

“I’m going to the bar, do you want anything?” I asked my new friends from Sky. It was my second night partying, last night I had the pleasure of meeting many drivers, tonight, I had been out for a meal which turned into food with drinks, and then afters at a bar, and now back to the hotel bar.

“I’m okay, thank you.” Anise responded, “I’m gonna go to the toilet, can you meet me back outside once you’ve got your drinks?”

“Of course.” I pressured, stumbling towards the bar, thirsty for another glass of wine. I’d been alternating between that and vodka cranberries all afternoon. It was safe to say my head would dislike me tomorrow morning, but that was a concern actually for tomorrow, not now. So I happily ordered myself another glass of rose. “Small, medium or, large?” The bartender asked, smiling. “Uhhhh…” “Large.” I heard a male speak from besides me. My head snapped to my left to see the most beautiful man in my whole life. I swear my jaw was on the floor, “uh-“ I glanced back to the woman behind the bar. “Yeah, large please.” I giggled, turning back to the dark haired man. He was giving me the eyes, I could tell, impressed by my choice. The buzz from the alcohol gave me a drunken confidence like no other, and I eyed up the man again, noticing the pint of beer in his glass.

“Good choice.” He commented, accent thick with what I assumed was Southern or Eastern European. I never was good at guessing. “What’re you drinking?” I asked, resting my chin on the back of my hand. My eyes lingered over his face, and down to his tanned hand gripping the glass.

“Mahou.” He responded, swallowing as his jaw tensed, I watched him take a swig, the muscles around his face and mouth tense. After, his tongue tan over the plump of his lips, the sensation going straight down to my lower stomach as it fluttered with excitement.

“Mahou? I’ve never heard of that, I’m not really good with beers.” I shrugged seeing him smile back to me. “I usually just go for wine.” “Rosé?” He drawled out in his sexy accent. “Mmmh.” I flirted as he smiled, running his tongue over the top of his teeth. “Thank you.” I nodded towards the woman who handed me over the large glass of wine. They definitely weren’t messing around here. When I went to take my Apple Pay out, the man besides me placed a hand on mine, holding out his card. “Oh no! Are you sure? You don’t have to!” I was quick to quirk my brows up, watching him tap his card against the machine as he shrugged it off like it was nothing. “Thank you… I appreciate it. What’s your name?”

“Carlos.” He held out a hand as I took it within my much smaller one. He eyed up the size difference the same time I did. Carlos? Carlos… sigh what a sexy name. As I glanced over him one more time it clicked who he actually was. “Ah, Carlos Sainz?” I casually asked, our hands slowly sliding apart. “Jenna Ashley.” He nodded back to me as I giggled, charmed at the fact he knew who I was. “Wha- aren’t you racing tomorrow?!” I frowned as he pulled out a stool for me to sit on besides him. I climbed up, intrigued by the driver currently sat besides me. “Yeah… I shouldn’t be here.”

“Who are you with?” I blinked a couple of times. “A few of my buddies, ah, I was only going to stay to finish this.” He gestures to his almost empty pint. He had a drunken haze in his eyes, giving them almost a glassy expression as I scanned over them. “One more wouldn’t hurt.” I teased as he laughed, dropping his head. “Maybe just one more. It is only… 11.” He shrugged as I giggled, watching him order another pint. “I’ll pay.” I beat him to the card machine, tapping my phone quickly. His jaw dropped momentarily, tutting playfully. “No, no!” “It’s fine.” I shrugged it off as he sighed. “Now I just have to buy you another one…” his knee nudged my own as I giggled, “are you trying to get me even drunker?” “I thought that was what you were doing to me.” His accent was thick, yet he spoke English so well. “Maybe.” I teased, taking another sip of the wine that was going down maybe a little too easily. “Jenna!” A voice called out and I turned over my shoulder to see Anise stood, glancing between Carlos and I with a wide smirk on her face. She looked breathless with excitement. “Oh… sorry, text me when you’re back at your room, yeah? I’ll just be over there.” She was painfully eyeing us up, hinting to something going on between Carlos and I. I had only just met the man.

“Yeah, you too.” I called out after her and she skipped over giddily, probably to spread the news of what she’d just seen. I was too drunk to care, turning back and drinking from my glass once again.

“We work together, it’s our first day tomorrow for sky. I’m kinda nervous.” I giggled shyly. “You are nervous? Suppose we are here for the same reasons then.” Carlos smirked, gulping down his beer maybe a little too quickly.

“Nervous for driving?” “I always am.” He nodded, lifting his shoulders slightly. “I’m sure you’ll do good. You’re where you are for a reason.” I nodded as he smiled to himself. Oh god, I knew I was drunk when I was slurring out motivational words to people who most likely didn’t care. “Thanks.” He spun his drink around on the table slightly. “We will see.” He sighed before taking another swig of his drink. I began to play a dangerous game of catch up, and as we continued talking we were slowly but surely going through more and more drinks. “Where are you staying?” Carlos’s legs were now pushed, once between mine, one on the outside as they became entangled in some flirtatious manner. “Here, I’m on the 7th floor. How about you?”

“4th floor.” He scrunched his nose, resting his head on his hand as he practically gazed up to me with those eyes that I just found myself melting into. “I bet I have a better view than you.” I teased. “Prove it.” There was the comment I’d been waiting for the past hour we’d been here.

“Okay.” I smiled as he pursed his lips, attempting to mask the smile that spread across his cheeks. “Ok.” He nodded, scraping his chair back as I followed suit, sneaking off out of the hotel bar to the lift. He stood besides me, shoulder brushing against mine as I poked my tongue to the inside of my cheek. He was so close to me now, all I’d have to do was turn…

I tilted my head up, eyeing him up and down as he softly smiled, closing the gap between us and reaching down to kiss my lips ever so tenderly. His hand hooked over my cheek, caressing softly as I immediately melted into the kiss, smoothing my hands over his white polo shirt. Despite being much taller than me, and evidently stronger (with the protruding muscles he had) his touch was light and careful, he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries, and despite the drunk swaying between us both, the kiss remained light.

The slowing of the lift broke us apart as I slipped my hand easily into his larger one, leading him through the hotel hallway and down to my room where I fumbled with my key card from the anticipation of having the hottest man ever behind me. He was seriously the best looking man I’d ever seen, and that wasn’t even an exaggeration, I fancied the living fuck out of him. So as soon as that hotel room door closed, the taller man stepped closer to me, ducking his head and attaching our lips together once again. This kiss was deeper, hungrier, his hands settled on my hips whilst mine ran over the back of his neck and through his thick, dark hair. I raised up on my tip toes slightly, feeling his arm curl around my waist and tug me directly into his crotch. Oh my god. My hand ran over his cheek, and followed down his chest to his lower abdomen. Carlos let out a quiet hum as my fingers danced over the top of his waistline. Beginning to guide me backwards, Carlos stumbled, knocking us both down onto the bed as I broke apart from the kiss with a slight gasp. “Sorry! I am sorry, are you ok?” He worried, pushing his arms up besides me as I glanced over the position. “I’m fine.” I giggled, a little lost for breath as he smiled, chuckling at his drunken antics before dipping down and kissing me once again. He seemed almost shy, a little nervous, even though we were both steaming from all the booze we’d consumed. I trailed my hands down his back and then up his shirt, feeling the bare, smooth skin, the muscles that were tense from holding me up. Tugging on his shirt, he pulled it off, gulping as he tossed it to the side, moving his hands over the spaghetti straps of my pastel, green summer dress. His hands were light as they smoothed the dress off me, revealing my breasts as he eased down the material, bunching it up below my chest. Carlos was evidently hard now, clenching his jaw as he moved his kisses down onto my chest. Light breaths of satisfaction escapes my mouth, the alcohol buzzing through me making everything feel 10x better. “You are so beautiful.” He commented causing a smile to grow on my face. Who was this guy?! A literal god?! With a kiss to my ribcage, I let out a soft gasp, bucking my hips as he peeled the rest of the material off my body, leaving me in only my small, pink underwear. I giggled, seeing him kneel between my legs on the side of the bed as he left a trail of wet kisses and the glide of his tongue down my abdomen. One hand, hooked under my legs and before I knew it the guy was kissing my clothed pussy, moving the lace off my lips without breaking eye contact once.

Oh, did he know how to treat a girl. It felt like he was worshipping my pussy licking and sucking, kissing and humming against my wetness as my legs spread wider for the man. “Can I?” He asked before moving a finger to my entrance. “Uh huh.” I nodded, panting from the amazing amount of pleasure he gave me. 1. He was the best looking person I’d EVER seen. 2. No man I’d met on the first night had worshipped me so much. 3. oh my god he was going to make me-

“I-I’m gonna cum.” I gasped, eyes wide as I focused on the roof, hearing him grunt against my pussy that throbbed for him at every move. My fingers tightened in his hair, voice cracking as I felt him continuously hit his finger against that one spot inside of me. Within minutes, my lower stomach knotted and I came with a breathy moan, body arching as I writhed in an intense pleasure, humming out in content when I’d hit my peak.

“Oh my god.” I almost choked out, pushing myself back up as he smiled, removing his fingers slowly as he crawled between my legs. His hair was a dishevelled mess, somehow making him even more attractive. His lips were plump and covered in my wetness as he licked them clean. “That was okay?” He asked as I almost gasped out. “It was so good, I’ve never finished from that before.” I was practically yanking him on top of me again.

When Carlos kissed me, I grimaced at the slight wetness that coated his stubble. “Sorry.” He laughed a little, wiping at his face. “Not your fault.” I giggled, hands moving to the front of his jeans.

“Your fault.” He smiled, glancing down to see me unzipping his trousers. “Do you want this?” He asked. “Yeah… do you?” I nodded as he was quick to copy my gesture. “I do.” He muttered, letting out an internal sigh whilst kissing me. Now, his tongue lapped over my own, slowly, but it was deep, sensual, it made me want even more of him.

“Carlos.” I whispered, hand dipping into his underwear and wrapping around his hard cock. He felt big- I knew he would be. Carlos moaned in response, breathing out into my neck as he shimmied his jeans at least half way down before falling between my legs. “I-I dont have a- what’s it called- a condón.” He muttered and somehow I found his accent even sexier.

“Condom? I- I’m on the pill, or… we don’t have to.” I was way past the point of using a condom. Carlos moaned, kissing me again as he lubricated his hand with his spit before pumping himself, once, twice, before nestling between my lips and slowly pushing himself in. The alcohol meant I felt 0 burn, only a pressure that added to the intense pleasure I was beginning to feel.

Carlos was undeniably louder than I ever imagined. He wasn’t screaming in my ear or anything, but his heavy breathing mixed in with manly grunts had me wanting to beg for more. My hand landed on his ass, then his back, gripping at his skin as he thrusted into me, head hiding in my neck as I spread my legs wider.

“Oh my god.” He muttered in response as I whined, gripping hold of his bag. “You feel so good.” He cooed in his sexy accent, pushing himself up as his eyes roamed over my face and body. He squeezed at my tits, nipping at my nipples, sucking, licking, groaning into them. Fuck! Soon enough I was on all fours, becoming much more vocal now as he thrusted into me, desperate fingers gripping into my hips as he tugged me back into him. I yelped with each time he’d fuck into me, reaching back for something to hold onto. Carlos reacted by wrapping his arm over my body, forehead dropping on my back and leaving several kisses there.

“Carlos!” I gasped, my shaky arms collapsing as he continued to fuck deep inside me, hands pushing my back into the bed as I gripped at the sheets. His cock was working deep inside of me, it was giving me an insatiable hunger for him that I couldn’t control. When his breathing got shakier and heavier, I followed suit, allowing him to flip us over so he was between my legs again. The bed was squeaking with each movement, the headboard banging as we carelessly fucked like there was nobody else in this entire building. “Are you going to to cum?” I asked, borderline whining as one of his hands rubbed at my pussy, the other jerking himself off at a pace just as fast as he fucked me with. “I am going to cum.” He maintained eye contact, his heavy eyelids drooping as his jaw hung slack, beautiful moans and groans of pleasure leaving his mouth. “Mmm, cum on me, please, Carlos.” I writhed my hips as he choked out a groan, jerking even harder, moving his hand to grip my thigh, breath held before he seemed to finally burst. Cum spurted out of his tip, leaving trails of his cum over my belly and chest, simultaneous, he let out a loud groan, one that sent me to heaven and back as I gazed up to him in a drunken haze. “Fuck.” He cursed, loosening his grip on my flesh with a rub of his hand. His body fell forwards, leaving a lingering kiss on my lips. One I didn’t expect. “Are you okay?” He then asked as I smiled, giving him a nod as he offered me a smile back, pushing himself up again.

The man cleaned me up, wiping my clean so I could swiftly move to the bathroom. When I returned he was pulling his underwear back on, a slight disappointment filled me as I searched for a fresh pair of my own, sliding back into the bed after. I was still panting slightly, as was he, he dropped onto the bed with a quick breath and a relief washed over me when he’d reached his arm out for a cuddle.

A cuddle?! This man was cuddling me after meeting and sleeping with me one time?! My drunken mind couldn’t quite comprehend it as I snuggled up to his warm, muscly chest. His pecs were rock hard. Just like his large manhood was. The thought made me blush.

Before I knew it I was passed out in a drunken haze, content with the basic stranger who’d given me the time of my life…

[ilguna]

☼ silent and terrified (Mike Munroe) ☼

summary; you did it, you made it until dawn, but can you handle reliving the past ten hours for the police report?

warnings; swearing, alcohol, gore, death mention.

wc; 3.6k

notes; HEAVY GAME SPOILERS BELOW.

–

“Okay, (Y/n), we need you to speak clearly and loudly for the camera’s microphone.” The policewoman says, you pick at your nails before meeting her eyes. 

When they land on her face, you can feel your nose twitch. She wears her emotions on her face, you can tell that she’s already prepared for whatever story you’re about to tell her. She’s already interviewed Ashley, Chris, Matt and Mike. You’re not sure what new information you can tell her at this point.

“Okay.” You breathe, eyes finding the camera briefly, and then you look down again.

The room is silent for a long couple of seconds. She clears her throat and readjusts in her chair, “Why don’t we start at the beginning, when you first arrived at the lodge?”

“Oh,” You sigh, “I walked up the path to the lodge by myself. I passed Mike on the way, but he wanted to play a prank on the next people to come up, so I helped him onto the roof of the bridge and kept going up. Besides Josh, I think I was the first one to get there.”

“How was Josh?”

You shrug, “He was his regular self. He didn’t say anything weird. We talked about the possibility of throwing a party. Ashley and Matt came up soon after, so there wasn’t much to say after that.”

She nods, writing on the notebook she has in front of her. She’s used half of it on the people before you. You can’t imagine the report she’s going to have to write after about all of you. 

“Okay, and what about inside of the lodge?”

“Josh was trying to start a fire, and a brief fight broke out between Mike and Matt, but they relaxed soon after. Then Emily came into the lodge and started picking a fight with Jess because she was sitting with Mike.” You shake your head, “It escalated, Jess and Mike were asked to stay in the guest cabin by Josh, and they agreed to get away from Emily.

“Emily realized that she was missing one of her bags, so she and Matt left again to go and find it. She said it was somewhere by the cable car station. Sam went to take a bath to warm herself up, and I asked Josh if it would be okay if I raided his cupboards for alcohol. I got permission so I walked away to do that.

“Um… they started talking about a spirit board, and Sam came down saying that there wasn’t any hot water. So Chris and Ashley went to get the board while Josh and Sam went to the basement for the boiler room. Sam went upstairs when it was fixed, and they came back with the spirit board.

“They uh—they set up at a table, and I pulled up a chair but I didn’t play with them.”

The woman pauses, and then looks up to you, “Were you drinking at that time?”

“Yes, I was halfway through a mixed drink.” You shake your head. You shouldn’t have drank, you wouldn’t have if you knew what was going to follow.

“Did you share this drink with any of them?”

“No, none of the people in the lodge at that time drank. As for the people that left, I have no clue.”

“What happened with the spirit board?”

“I—well it seemed like there was a spirit, but I don’t believe there actually was one there. I think one of them was playing a trick but wanted to milk the reactions. And then Josh got mad and left the table. After that, the mood was ruined so I finished what I was drinking and made a stronger drink.”

“How many drinks did you have?”

“In the span of like, two hours, I had five drinks. I fell asleep behind one of the couches upstairs because I was trying to get cellular on my phone to let my parents know that I’m okay, because they get worried.”

“Did you get a hold of them?”

“No.”

The room is quiet for a second, she rolls her shoulders and readjusts on her chair. She then motions for you to continue, “What do you remember when you woke up?”

“Ashley and Chris woke me up. I was drunk, everything was moving in a blur. I barely remember going down the stairs and to the basement. They had to help me the entire way because I almost slipped a few times. They were trying to tell me that there was a psychopath on the mountain and Sam was missing.

“While we were in the basement, Ashley kept saying that she was seeing a ghost, but Chris and I kept missing it. Chris saw it before I did. I think they were saying it was Hannah’s ghost that was guiding us through there. The deeper we went, the more fucked up it was. Our faces hanging on the wall, the prank video on Hannah from last year—there were even pigs hanging from the ceiling. It was sick.”

You take a few deep breaths, “And then we found Sam, she was strapped to this chair in her bath towel. When Ashley and I turned, Chris was unconscious on the floor and the man—Ashley stabbed him with a pair of scissors to defend us. He hit her in the head and he cornered me and strangled me against the wall.

“When we um…” Your eyes fall to the table, quieting, “woke up, Chris, Ashley and I were tied to the chairs. The man who knocked us out said that it was up to us who we killed, but if we didn’t make a choice, then the saw would kill all three of us. Chris had the gun in front of him, so he picked it up.”

“Did Chris shoot either of you?”

“No, he couldn’t, not if he wanted to.” You press your lips together, “He um—he pointed the gun at himself and said that he wouldn’t choose either of us.”

“(Y/n), I need you to speak louder. Can you repeat that?” She asks.

You look up to the camera, “Chris pointed the gun to the underside of his jaw and said that he wouldn’t choose either of us and pulled the trigger.” You grit your teeth, “The gun was full of blanks. It obviously didn’t kill him.”

“What happened next?”

“Sam and Mike came into the room, Sam was dressed again in her athletic wear. And the man that had knocked us out came out, too. He took off the mask he was wearing.” You grind your teeth, shaking your head.

“Who was it?”

“It was Josh.” You snap, “Josh had set us up like that to teach us a lesson about what happened to his sisters last year. They played a prank on Hannah, which made her run into the blizzard, and Beth went running after her. That night, there were only four people that didn’t help or want to do it in the first place; Josh, Chris, Sam and me. The rest of them set it up.”

“Why?”

“Josh and Chris passed out drunk in the kitchen after drinking. Sam said it wasn’t a good idea, and I refused to help them because I thought it was cruel to tease Hannah about a crush. They went and did it anyway, all of them in that room, also recording her, and she got embarrassed and ran away.”

The woman nods, “Okay, and what happened after you figured out it was Josh?”

“I was suddenly sober.” You scoff, “The spirit board, the ghost in the basement—he strangled me against a wall!” You pull down the neck of your sweater to allow them to see your throat, “He left bruises!”

“What happened?” She repeats.

“Everyone got pissed pretty quickly. Mike says that what Josh did killed Jess, and then punched him. After that, we were helped out of the ropes. I was having a hard time standing upright.”

“Because you were still intoxicated?”

“No, because one of my closest friends just admitted to pitting us against each other, thinking that we’d result to murder.” You wipe your nose, “Chris and Mike took Josh to the shed to talk to him privately to see if they could get anything out of him. Mike was pretty shaken up about Jess, and Chris was mad because he punched Ashley and gave her a black eye.

“Mike and Chris tied up Josh at the shed and came back to the lodge when they heard Emily screaming because she was running away from something.”

“Was Matt with her?”

“No.” You look down, “No, he wasn’t.”

“Who was at the cabin at that time?”

“Uh, Mike, Emily, Ashley, Sam, Chris and I. We were trying to ask Emily what happened but the guy came, carrying a flamethrower. He made us sit down and then told us that the mountain wasn’t safe and we shouldn’t have come back.”

“Why?”

“He—he said that there was a monster… a wendigo.”

“What was the man’s name?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did he look like?’

“I wasn’t really paying attention.” You shrug, “I remember there being a scar over his eye. I was thinking about how batshit crazy everything was. I didn’t want to hear the fairytale.”

She lets out a sigh, “And then what happened?”

“The man said we needed to get to safety, but Chris said that Josh was still outside. The man agreed to take Chris outside to help him find Josh, and the rest of us waited for them to come back. I guess Josh was gone when they got up there, and the man died, because only Chris came back. After that, we went down to the basement to hide behind the fence.

“Mike made sure that there was another exit in case one of those wendigos found us. Emily was trying to show us a map of the mountain when Ashley saw something on her neck. One of the wendigos had bitten her, and then everything went to shit. Mike wanted to shoot her—”

“Isn’t Emily the ex-girlfriend of Mike?”

“Yes.” You sigh, “Ashley wanted to shoot Emily because she was afraid that Emily would turn into a wendigo but I managed to convince Mike to put the gun down. Mike said that he was going to go try and find Josh, so I volunteered to go with him and he let me.”

“Even though you were intoxicated?”

“The world was no longer spinning.” You snap, “I wasn’t slurring my words. I was comprehending everything around me just fine, officer.” You shake your head at her, “I wasn’t a hazard, that’s why I was allowed to go.

“We took the basement tunnels to the Sanatorium. We got to the chapel, where Mike lit a torch and grabbed a shotgun. He took a handful of bullets, and I took a handful too for him, because I had room in my pockets.”

“Do you still have these bullets?”

“Yes, they’re in my pockets.” You pat the spot, “They’re probably going to have my fingerprints all over them.”

“We’ll collect them later on, continue with what you were telling me.”

“Mike shot off the lock on one of the doors so that we could continue through to where we were going. We ran across this white wolf, Mike recognized him because he had been in the Sanatorium a few hours before. The wolf led us through the building, and through a fence gateway into another building. It was a lot more secured, and half the gates were broken so we had to squeeze through them.

“We went down one of the hallways, and it led us to another wolf—a black one. Mike said that one had tried to attack him, but he didn’t kill it and string him up, so she doesn’t know what happened.”

“The wolf was dead? How?”

“His insides were ripped out and he was hung from the fence so his innards were facing outwards.” You grit your teeth, “It was a gruesome sight. We went down the rest of the halfway, it brought us to this big center room. There was a wendigo waiting for us in there, so Mike shot in, and then grabbed me and started running.

“He brought us to a hallway, and we hid in one of the rooms and blocked the door with a locker to keep the wendigo from coming inside. We left the room and went into the next room, trying to get out, but there was another one waiting for us. We stopped moving, because the man told us that it’s harder for them to see us if we don’t move.

“When it looked away, we hid behind the counter, which shook it and knocked a bottle over. Mike and I both reached to grab it, but he ended up with it in his hand. We managed to get out of the room and into another hallway…”

“What then?”

“We saw the wendigos trapped in these cages—like prison cells. We started running because they were getting more violent. Mike made sure we got into the room, and while he tried to find a way out, I barricaded the door. He jumped down through the hole in the floor and helped me down because I was shaking.”

“Why?”

“I was cold and scared.” You make a face, “Mike knocked over these oil barrels and then shot it to try and kill the wendigos that were inside. We escaped through one of the doors, but we weren’t safe. One of them came flying out, red hot like they were made of coals. 

“I couldn’t move, watching it come hurdling itself at us, but Mike grabbed me again and started pulling me with him, forcing me to move. We started running, and he brought us through these large wooden doors to the mines. The wendigo jumped, Mike pushed me and let the monster attack him. I fell. Sam was there, so she killed the wendigo with the pipe she had.”

“What was Sam doing in the mines?”

“She was looking for us to make sure we got out all right. Emily, Ashley and Chris were with her but they had to turn around and go back to the lodge because they couldn’t climb the rock wall.” You let out a breath, “I um, I went to check on Mike while Sam shut the mine door to make sure nothing else would follow us inside.

“How was Mike?”

“Banged up, but not bitten. He said that he was okay, and asked if anything had happened to me.”

“Did anything happen?”

“Besides from a few scratches, no. He took the hits for me. I owe him for saving me.”

She nods, “What did you three do next?”

“We went deeper into the mines, looking for Josh because we couldn’t find him anywhere else. The mines are huge, there’s so many areas we didn’t even touch on. I mean—Sam and Mike were describing where they’d been and they didn't recognize each other’s places.

“Anyway, we ended up in this water that we had to wade through to get to the other side. Sam went off and found this journal that Hannah had written in. Something about her leg being broken, and how hungry she was. She held out for thirty days before she undug Beth’s body and ate a part of her.”

You can see the woman’s face pale, you let her fix herself before you continue.

“We found Josh in a cave, he wasn’t well, he was clearly having a mental breakdown. He needed help. Mike gave Sam a boost on the wall to let her get out and let the others know we found Josh, and she also took the cable car key. While Mike, Josh and I went the way we came through the water.”

“How was Josh, even though they left him in the shed?”

“If he was mad, he didn’t show us.” You press your lips together, “We got into that water again, backtracking, when Mike got pulled under the water right in front of me. I went to help pull him out, thinking he slipped, but then there was this screech—did they tell you the wendigos screech? It’s horrifying, it’s a mix between a human and a pig screaming, and it’s loud.

“Well, it grabbed Josh. And they’re so strong, that there’s no point in fighting it. I just—I hid, and Mike came out of the water right next to me. He went to speak, and I clamped my hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. And then we left, we managed to get back up to the way we came in, and left through there since it was the easiest.

“We um… we got back to the lodge to find that Sam was already there, waiting to be let in. We went in through the back door, and while we were going down to the basement to find Chris, Ashley and Emily—they came out of the theater room screaming.

“There was a wendigo chasing them through the basement, so we went up the stairs into the main room and…”

You let out a breath, pressing your palms against the surface of the table to keep them from shaking. You don’t know how seven of you managed to get out of the lodge. So many mistakes could’ve happened and yet—only three of you were lost. Jess, Matt and Josh.

“And?” She prompts.

“There was a wendigo hanging from the chandelier over the living room. Which meant there was one in front, and one behind. And then another one appeared from upstairs, and we were all standing in that foyer, quiet and terrified of what would happen next.” 

You sit up in the chair, “You need to understand that it’s so incredibly difficult to keep completely still like that. If any of us moved, we risked getting the other six killed. It’s much harder when you start fucking crying because you know that death is right in front of you.

“We had to be very still and very quiet. The three wendigos then started fighting one another, breaking the gas line that led to the fireplace. Mike looked at the lightbulb, which would spark the flame if the light switch was turned on. It had to be perfect, though. I wasn’t a part of this plan, it was between Mike and Sam, the rest of us had to make it out of there to let them do it.

“The chandelier wendigo killed one of the other ones, and Sam stepped on a floor board, which caused the other two to look at her. We didn’t move, and it let Mike break the lightbulb, but then the attention was turned to him, letting Chris leave first. Sam shouted to make the wendigo turned around, Emily left second.

“Sam hid behind a pillar, and then the wall, letting Ashley leave. By then, I had inched my way over to the door. It looked at me, though, and I had to stop moving. Mike ended up throwing something to the far end of the lodge, taking the attention off of all of us. I left fourth, and met up with the others outside.

“Mike then came running out, with Sam right behind him. She turned on the light switch, which sparked the lodge to blow up. Mike ran straight into me, taking us both to the ground. And that’s when the helicopter showed up.”

You take in a shaky breath, letting out a quiet sob, “Something seriously fucked up was going on in the Sanatorium and the mines for it to be the way it is—torture, experiments—Hannah and Beth are just another one of the victims to the mountain.”

“Did you see Matt at all in the mines?”

“Were you even listening to me?” You ask, “I told you that the mines were too big to run across each other like that.”

“You found Josh and Sam, didn’t you?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

You rub the tears out of your eyes, standing up, “Can I be done now? I don’t need you patronizing me! Can’t you see something happened? Four people are dead! My friends are dead and I’m never going to see them again!”

“We have search and rescue—”

“You couldn’t find Hannah and Beth—what makes you think that you can recover Jess, Matt and Josh’s bodies? What about the man that helped us understand? How are you going to find him?”

“Please, calm down.” She motions to the chair.

“No, no I’m done—I wanna see my friends now. I’m not talking to you anymore.”

You turn to the door, shoving it open. The officer on the other side jumps at the sudden noise, and makes a grab at you. You manage to dodge his hand, heading straight for the front of the police station, wanting to see them, wherever they are.

They’re all lined up on the chairs, all in varying degrees of exhaustion. The moment they hear footsteps coming down the hall, they sit up. You press your hands to your mouth, letting out a sob through your fingers.

Mike’s the first to get to his feet, wrapping his arms tightly to comfort you, “It’s okay, it’s over, (Y/n).”

The hug grows as the others join in, and suddenly you’re not the only one crying anymore. It makes it harder to hold in the tears, especially since you know that they feel the same way that you do. You grip onto someone’s arm as support to keep you from collapsing.

You did it. You don’t know how, or why you deserved to still be here, but you made it. You made it until dawn.

[bravo4iscool]

i kinda like the idea of cato being a nice mentor so, take this blurb🙂‍↕️

(mentor!cato hadley & fem!tribute)

i made slight changes to the time before the games. instead of one week, they spend two months in the training centre! (this is purely for my little one shot to make sense lol)

tagging @bumblebeesfromvenus because she likes my cato fanfic and maybe she'll like this too🧍🏼

(masterlist overview | join my tag list!)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

when he was told he would be a mentor he thought he would train one of the district two careers, not some random 12 year old girl from district 11.

district 11 never had any victors and his district had too many. it was only natural they’d send him off, he was the new one.

but he had hoped for a guy, strong build and maybe a small chance of a win. not this fragile little girl. she was small, not even reaching his shoulder. her eyes were hallow and he was pretty sure some of her bones were showing under her skin.

he studies her as the district 11 escort, panacea, leads her towards one of the arm chairs in the train wagon. she looks afraid, scared; terrified actually.

he pushes a glass of water in her direction, his expression stoic. “i am cato,” he then says. “i am your mentor for the next two months.” the girl absently nods. cato watches her again for a few minutes. “you should drink something,” he then speaks up again, looking at the glass.

“i’m not thirsty,” she whispers, averting her gaze. she was intimidated by cato. everyone knew who he was and what he’d done. he was ruthless, without any remorse. she was afraid he’d handle her the same way.

“i don’t believe you.” he purses his lips and pushes the glass further towards her. “you don’t need to be afraid of me. i’m not gonna hurt you.” he tries to keep his voice as soft as possible, but he wasn’t used to being soft.

panacea sits down beside the girl and pats her arm. “you have one of the best—if not the best—mentors one can have. this is going to be thrilling!” her face beams with a smile, and cato wants to wipe it off her face.

that’s no way to talk to a 12-year-old kid who just got thrust into the last two and a half months of her life.

“well, training won’t start until next week,” cato clears his throat. “it gives you time to get settled in.” he tries to catch her eyes, but she avoids any kind of eye contact. looks like he would need to get her to warm up before all the interviews. there was no way she would get sponsors like that.

-

“this is your room,” cato says as he leads the girl around the district 11 floor. “you can retreat here when i’m done showing you around.”

panacea has a permanent grin on her face as she leads the tribute around by her shoulders. “isn’t it lovely?” she enthuses and cato just rolls his eyes. the girl hasn’t talked since she boarded the train and denied the glass of water.

he continues his tour without paying much attention to panacea. “i’ll show you the training room and then you can rest until dinner.”

the tour is finished faster than he thought and he finds himself in one of the bars littering the capitol. he has a drink in his hand, staring at the wall of liquids behind the counter.

"well, who do we have here," a familiar voice then sounds and cato rolls his eyes.

he takes another sip of his drink before he turns his head. "haymitch," he greets his fellow mentor, slighty pulling back a stool beside him. "what brings you here?" he wants to know, putting his glass down.

haymitch lets out a drunk chuckle. "as if you don't know that." the former district 12 victor didn't expect the young man to be here. cato has never been much of a drinker. he was too focused on his physique to waste his life with liquor.

cato rolls his eyes again and orders another drink. "what do you want?" he asks the older man. there was no reason for haymitch to talk to him. actually, haymitch should hate him. cato killed his precious tribute.

"little birdie told me something," haymitch shrugs, swaying his bottle of liquor. "they ain't letting you mentor district two." cato doesn't reply to that. everyone knew who he'd mentor this year. no need to make fun of him now.

haymitch dramatically sighs and pats cato's back. "maybe you'll know how i feel each year now." he gets up and smiles crankily at cato. "may the odds be ever in your favour."

cato's jaw tenses as he watches haymitch leave. he would show this old drunk how his tribute could win. she would win. he'd make sure of that.

to be continued. maybe...

[sunflowerrosewood]

Burns ~ Tony Stark

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the one shot! This is a plus size reader and a soulmate prompt where you have similar markings as your soulmate.

Ever since you turned 25 years old, you noticed burns and bruises form down your arms. You weren’t noticing these earlier but you must have recently got these with your soulmate. For a long time, you believed you did not have a soulmate. Now he or she has finally showed up.

You were so surprised but why did you have to get their burns. It hurts so much every day. It’s like working in a factory with heat. But you know your soulmate is not very happy about you. I mean who would like cellulite marks on their bodies and wrinkle marks where fat is. Stretch marks on top of it. It is disgusting.

What you did not know is Tony Stark, the playboy, billionaire, philanthropist was your soulmate. Ever since Pepper left as his secretary, he had to find someone who could fill that space. He knew his soulmate was somewhere because he started to see stretch marks where he had not used to see. While his mindset on women is the skinny broads, he realized that he would not mind someone on the thicker side. 

You were looking for a job in New York and noticed Stark Industries was looking for a secretary. You used to do secretary work in your hometown so you applied immediately. Sure you did not look the part but you did keep a mean schedule. You were called in for an interview by Tony Stark for Monday. 

As Monday rolled around, your nerves were going crazy. You dressed your best professional wear and drove to Stark Industries. A button up blouse, a black skirt, and black flats. You noticed the system JARVIS allowed you in and you saw Tony Stark in a lab.

“Morning. You must be the new secretary. Tony Stark.” He said as he held out his hand which was smeared with oil and grease.

“Y/n L/n. What do you mean new secretary?” You asked. 

“I went ahead and hired you. You’ll live here in Stark Industries. Don’t worry about it beautiful.” He said nonchalantly. 

“I don’t know what to say.” You said softly.

“Don’t say a word about it. Just take the position.” Tony said as you smiled.

“I will.” You said as he grinned.

“Perfect. You start tomorrow. Come on, let’s have a drink.” He said as you blushed.

“Bu-But-” 

"Nothing! We need to celebrate this!" Tony said proudly before pulling out some scotch and two glasses. 

As Tony picked up two glasses, one of them shattered on the floor and a few shards of glass cut your leg. 

"Ow!!" You both said loudly. Tony froze looking at your leg and his which suddenly also began to bleed. Your mind raced as you knew what this meant. Tony Stark is your soulmate and you had to go. 

You booked it with your bleeding leg back to your car in his garage. As you began to start it up and pull a first aid kid out of the backseat, you saw Tony was immediately behind your car so you couldn't leave. You sighed and rolled down your window.

"Mr. Stark please move now." You said as he crossed his arms.

"I'm not moving till you let me come sit with you and explain." Tony said as you sighed again. The doors unlocked and Tony got into the front seat. 

"How's your leg?" Tony asked as you hissed. 

"It will be fine. I just have to clean it and bandage. Yours?" You questioned as he smiled softly. 

"I wrapped it before I came out here. I feel like we need to discuss what occurred." Tony said as you finished placing the bandage. 

"What is there to talk about? You are soulmates with a fat chick that's your secretary. That's what this is about. Just go ahead and fire me and we do not have to see each other." You rambled before feeling Tony's hand on yours. 

"Y/n please let me speak." He said softly before you sighed. 

"Go ahead." You said as he turned your face to look at him. 

"I knew my soulmate was thicker than most girls I have dated. I was honestly happy to see someone different. Just imagining holding your warm and soft body against mine will be a change. Just having someone who is a lot softer will make my life so much different. When you first walked into the building, my mind was already set on asking you out. It wasn't until the glass shattering that it gave me assurance to ask you out." Tony said. 

"But I'm just some fat girl." You sighed. 

"But I do not care. You've had to deal with my injuries of creating Iron Man and I'm surprised you don't hate me. You are not just "some fat girl". You are so much more and I would love to prove that to you." He said as you chuckled.

"I honestly thought you worked in a factory." You said as he threw his head back and laughed. 

"Please give me a chance as your soulmate Y/n. I promise to treat you well." Tony said as you were blushing. 

"I will." You said as he kissed your lips. It felt like a missing puzzle piece fit right in and your lips moulded so well.

When you broke off the kiss, you turned your car off so the two of you could go back into Stark Industries where you moved in later and became his soulmate for a long time. 

[avenirdelight]

A Conversation With Ralph

Jack Grealish

They have a quarrel in the morning before Jack leaves for training. When he comes back, he finds her having a conversation with their dog. [Requested]

“What do you mean you can’t?”

She folded her arms, leaning on the kitchen counter. The gesture was a sign that she was being serious—Jack had been dating her for long enough to know it. The demanding tone of her voice also said so.

“I can’t. I can’t go to lunch with you and your mum today,” Jack said as he picked a can of drink from the fridge, quickly shutting the door. “I’ve got an interview after training.”

“What interview?”

“An interview with Sky Sports or something.”

“But you said you’re available today, that’s why we chose today to pick my mum up, have lunch, then we’ll go to the hospital to visit my sister and the baby. I’ve even bought the presents you told me to get.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I forgot that I’ve got an interview, I’ve just gotten a reminder from the staff just now. I won’t be able to make it to lunch.”

She was getting really upset, Jack could tell by how tense she was, how her eyes were glaring at him with disappointment. He gently grabbed her by the waist and leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead. It was out of habit—they would always give each other a kiss before they leave the house—but he also did it with the hope that she wouldn’t get so mad at him.

“If the interview finishes early, I’ll catch you at the hospital, how about that?” Jack persuaded.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re making another promise right now, after you can’t even keep one?” 

Jack couldn’t say that her words were not bothering him. He admitted that it was his fault, but he thought she was making it bigger than it actually was. “What do you want me to do? I can’t just cancel the interview.”

She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. “Yeah, whatever.” She walked past Jack, slightly bumping her shoulder on his.

“What? You’re mad now?”

“Can’t you tell?” She abruptly picked up the dirty pan from the stove and the utensils that were scattered on the counter. “This is not the first time this is happening, Jack.”

“Babe, this is work.” Jack’s tone was rising. “You know I can’t really do anything about it.”

She dumped them in the sink and they clattered rather loudly—Jack shrieked. “You could’ve actually re-checked your schedule. Last night we literally talked about what we were going to do today and you said it sounded like a perfect plan.”

“Well, I’m sorry. We could just reschedule it.”

“That’s so easy for you to say,” she said as she turned the faucet on and began to wash the dishes.

Jack’s shoulder slumped—it could’ve been a perfect, peaceful morning. But now she was upset, and he was upset too. It was never a good thing to leave the house being stressed out and without a kiss from her, but today, Jack had to.

—

The interview took longer than Jack had expected. He’d thought that he could leave right away and go to her hospital to see her sister’s newborn baby, but it turned out that the boss wanted to speak to him about some important matters for the next game, so he stayed.

It was almost dinner time when he arrived home. Her car was on the driveway so he knew that she was already home. During the drive home, all Jack had been able to think about was the quarrel that they’d had this morning. He regretted that it had happened, regretted how he’d handled it; he felt like he could’ve done better, mostly because he realised that the fault was his in the first place.

Jack took the time to stop by the kitchen and down a glass of water to collect and compose himself. He prepared himself to apologise to her and try to make it right—he knew he needed to apologise to his mum and his sister too, they’d surely expected to see him but he ended up not showing up. When he was ready, he went up the stairs to their bedroom with heavy steps. 

But he slowed his steps when he caught her voice from the hallway. It sounded like she was speaking to somebody.

“So what I’m trying to say, yeah, is that I wish Jack could show a bit more of a commitment to my family. He hasn’t been doing that lately,” she said in a quite serious tone. “They understand that he’s always busy and all that but since we’ve been dating for a while now, they actually wanted to see more from him.”

Jack’s heart dropped. She was talking about him. Is she on the phone? With her friend? There was a moment of silence before she started speaking again.

“You know, my parents didn’t approve at first when they knew I’m dating such a high profile person, but since day one I’ve only told them good things about Jack. I got them to see what I see in him until they gave their blessings. Jack has done a lot too to prove that he’s genuinely a good guy, so I don’t want him to lose their trust…”

He suddenly felt like he was intruding. As much as he wanted to know what she was thinking about him, he shouldn’t be hearing any of this.

“Do you think I’m being too pushy? Am I being too hard on him?” She continued. Jack was thinking whether he should just go into the bedroom or go back downstairs. “Ralph? Are you even listening to me? Ralph? Oh– You’re sleeping now? I’m not done talking to you.”

Jack didn’t realise that he’d been holding his breath—he let out a long sigh of relief upon the realisation. Ralph. She was only talking to Ralph, their dog. She loved talking to Ralph and it seemed like he was sharing about her troubled mind to the dog. Jack tiptoed towards the bedroom. The door was ajar and he carefully peeked inside.

She was sitting on the bed. Ralph was lying beside her, his head resting on her thigh, as she gently stroked Ralph's head. The view warmed Jack’s heart.

“I hope that he’ll at least make time to go see my niece. She’s gonna be his niece too…” She said, sounding rather hopeful. She then let out a little giggle. “Well, if he’s serious about being serious... Serious about this relationship, you know?”

“But I’m serious. I’m serious about us,” Jack said. He saw her snapping her head to the door with a horror face—it even startled Ralph, the dog woke up and whined.

“Oh my God, Jack!” She said, holding her chest as she let out a strong sigh of relief. “You’re scaring me! Why didn’t I hear your car?”

Jack stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He shrugged. “Maybe you’re too focused on having a conversation with Ralph.” He tossed his wash bag on the armchair and walked to the bed. He held her chin and slightly lifted it so he could put a kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, I mean it. I’m serious about us,” he repeated. He then sat in front of her.

“How much did you hear?” A tone of worry was noticeable in her voice.

“I heard enough.” Jack took a hold of her hand. “I’m sorry, babe. I know I’ve got to do better. I will.” He said, staring deep into her eyes. “Please, trust me. I love you so much, I always mean it when I say I’m serious about this relationship.”

Jack sounded so genuine. Her heart clenched almost painfully because she knew he was being sincere, his voice and face said it all.

“Work has just been overwhelming and I was stupid for thinking that I could maybe put the other things aside. I should’ve realised how these things mean so much to you,” he continued. “I’m really sorry.”

Jack’s eyes looked tired, his hair was messy, and there was a slight pout on his face. She frowned, actually feeling bad and definitely regretting the quarrel that they’d had this morning—maybe she was being a bit too hard on him.

“I know, Jack. You know I’d be fine if you want to put your work first, or put yourself first… I just need you to communicate it with me, maybe I could even help,” she tried to reason with him. “But sometimes your actions don’t reflect your words and I can’t help but to feel upset and disappointed.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” He dropped his gaze and it landed on their linked hands. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll do better.”

A subtle smile grew on her face. She hated how he almost looked like a kid when he was sorry—or maybe she loved it, the differences were thin. And most of the time it was easy to forgive Jack, because she knew that he was actually trying, he just needed a little bit of reminder and a little bit of push sometimes, and it was her role to do that.

“I’m sorry too,” she said as she ran her hand through his hair, before it ended up holding his face. Jack looked at her again. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did this morning.”

Jack nodded again. “Come here,” he said, opening his arms. She wasted no time to shuffle closer—moving Ralph in the process—and sat on Jack’s lap. Jack searched for her face and pampered her cheeks with kisses before he pressed his lips into hers. She smiled as they kissed, making Jack do the same.

“I need to call your mum tomorrow, say sorry I couldn’t make it today,” Jack said. His hand was wrapped around her, as the other rested on her thigh—her arms circled around his neck.

She fell silent for a moment. “Do you know what? I haven’t given your present to my sister. If you’re free tomorrow or the day after tomorrow…” She shrugged. “Maybe we could go visit. My mum will be there anyway, we could bring lunch for everyone.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m free tomorrow after training.”

She slightly raised her eyebrows. That was what he’d said last time.

“I really am. I’ve checked.” Jack got a bit defensive as he tried to convince her. It made her chuckle, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay.” She smiled. “Well, I could take you to training, go to my meeting, pick you up, then we go to the hospital.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan. Wait– I said that last night, didn’t I?”

She chuckled again. “Yeah you did.”

“Yeah, but it’s for real this time.”

“Okay.”

Jack wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer for a hug. He buried his face on his shoulder. Tonight could have gone so much worse but he was lucky that she was yet again so understanding. He couldn’t take this for granted and this was a reminder for him.

“So, tell me about the baby,” Jack mumbled as he let her go and searched for her face. Her face lit up immediately at the mention of her new niece. She crawled out from Jack’s lap, but she was quickly replaced by Ralph. Jack gave the dog a cuddle, as she began to gush about the baby.

—

it's been an awfully long time since the last time i wrote for jack! this one is quite cute and i love it so i hope you'll enjoy it too! reblogs, likes, and comments are always very appreciated<3

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[jack grealish tag list: @smileytaa @delicateearthquakellama @chicken-fifi @muglermami @mehrmonga @landosmilkjug @koufaxx @kayleea122 @blueanfield @p4st3lst4rs @charlesxavierenthusiast]

My Masterlist🤍

[thenebulochaoticwriter]

Chapter Five: Inconveniences Happen, Too

Stephen sighs, brushing a hand through his hair and leaning up from the oven. It was now spic and span- according to Moira. If it were Stephen’s own oven then he’d definitely put in more effort personally, but he didn’t come here to clean Moira’s oven. The only reason it was so clean now was because he was a perfectionist.

Moira watched from the couch, tapping her fingers onto her knees anxiously. As Stephen seemed to finish up, she spoke up. “Ah, thank you.” She stiffened when he gave her a judgemental look. Returning it with a sheepish smile, she continued. “For cleaning up. Thanks. And saving my life, essentially. I probably would’ve been dead if you hadn’t butted in.”

“I agree.” Stephen comments coldly, tossing the rag in his hand onto the nearby bin with a sigh. “So, do you have an explanation as to why there was a half-full jug of vegetable oil in your oven at 425 degrees?” He asks, turning his back to her as he washes his hands.

Moira sighs, recalling that she still had several questions she needed to answer for herself. “I really wish I did.” She mutters, standing up to examine the oven. Stephen really did a good job at cleaning up all of the oil. She didn’t know if it was because there was oil still spread on the oven or if Stephen really was just that amazing, but she could’ve sworn there was a brilliant shine spread across the oven now.

“It’s actually really confusing considering it all happened in less than five minutes.” Moira explained. After receiving a reluctant but sure nod from Stephen, she began to explain in detail, which took a bit longer than she had liked due to her confusion about the whole ordeal.

“Do you drink, Moira?” Stephen asks immediately in a tone that Moira couldn’t decide whether it was more concerned or more judgemental.

Of course she didn’t. She was sure that he knew that to some extent due to their extensive interviews during shows. “Owch.” Moira chuckled wryly, resting her face in her hand. “Honestly, if I did I still don’t think it would explain everything that happened.”

“Unfortunately.” Stephen adds, looking to the now dark sky outside. “One moment.” He stands up and walks towards the still-open front door.

Moira stands up as well, suddenly. For some reason there was a sharp feeling of fear at the thought of him leaving, which really wasn’t normal for her at all. “Are you leaving?” She asks, putting her hands together with a sheepish smile as he gives her a suspicious look.

“I’m grabbing my bag. I dropped it outside.” Stephen claims, walking out of the door. His bag was set near the mailbox, but fortunately too far for Jester to get to him. Stephen picks up his bag along with the couple of books that had fallen out, simultaneously untying Jester’s leash and allowing him to run inside the house.

Stephen follows, and as he closes the door behind him, Moira speaks up. “Why were you here, anyway? You don’t live on this side of town, right?” She asks, only just now realizing that it was strange that Stephen was able to save her at all.

“Are you avoiding our previous topic of conversation?” Stephen asks, setting his bag onto the counter and sorting through it.

“No! No, I promise. I’m just..” Moira trails off, not having a legitimate answer outside of being curious. “..well… were you coming to visit me?” She asks, despite being shaken up she still looks flattered at the thought.

Stephen sighs at this and turns his attention back to his bag. After a second, Moira turned away as well, assuming that he wasn’t going to answer. After another quick glance her way, Stephen clears his throat. “Yes, I was thinking about it.”

Moira gasps, intertwining her hands with a big smile before Stephen holds a hand up her way. “Originally, I was running an errand. I thought that I could drop by and ask how the book was coming along.”

“The book?” Moira tilts her head to the side. Despite his mention of the book she was still a bit struck that he was actually going to bother to visit her. Suddenly, she gasps again, but her expression was far less happy and far more dreadful. “Oh, the book!”

Stephen raises an eyebrow at her, his expression hardening as he realizes what her mistake was. “Where is the book?” He asks, although based on his expression and cold tone of voice, he already knew what the answer to that question was.

“...it’s.. At the library, I think.” Moira stutters and raises her hands as she continues. “I mean- I- I let Watanabe look at it, and then I completely forgot that he had it because he was showing me something. I’m sorry.”

“Well, it wasn’t my book at least.” Stephen rationalizes, placing his books back in his bag in a newly organized manner.

Moira silently thinks for a moment before gasping suddenly. So suddenly that it nearly makes Stephen jump, and he glares at her. “Sorry.” She whispers, standing up. “I actually have something I wanted to give you..”

Moira quickly walks upstairs momentarily, looking through her bedroom for something. Eventually, she pulls out a book that had been sitting and collecting dust on top of her bookshelf. Brushing it off as she walks down the stairs, she lifts it up to reveal the cover of the book with a proud smile. “Ta-da! William’s Chocolatier in its beautiful paper form!” She cheers, tapping on the cover with her fingernails.

Stephen lifts an eyebrow at her, not necessarily looking suspicious, but more like he wasn’t allowing himself to look surprised. “You didn’t tell me you owned this.” He says, taking it as she proudly offered it to him.

“Would you believe me if I said I forgot I had it?” Moira asks, tapping her fingers together sheepishly.

“I’d take it as seriously as whatever excuse you can make up regarding your near-death experience.” Stephen responds, once again thrusting the conversation back onto the uncomfortable topic that was the fire. He nods his head at her as he looks to the back of the book, as if saying that it was her turn to speak.

“Uh..” Moira sighs. “I can’t really tell you much else.. I’d like to assume that someone started the fire. I mean, that’s really the only explanation. It’s just- the window of time that it happened is so, so small.”

Stephen hums in response and Moira grants him a moment of silence as she exhales and brushes some leftover dust from her dress. She looks to the oven and to the apple pie that was likely warm on the counter. “Is the oven able to be used?” She asked, walking over to her unbaked pie.

“Yes.” Stephen responds. Moira nods, turning and putting the oven back on its original time. She stares at the oven for a moment as Stephen speaks up again. “You said the second floor window was open, right?” He asks, resting his face in his left hand. He rested the other hand on top of the book, not seeming to be able to read at the moment as he thought about Moira’s situation.

“Mhm.” Moira puts her hands together in front of her and takes her fingers together anxiously. “I checked up there when I was opening the windows, but I didn’t see anyone anywhere.”

Stephen sighs, “So from my understanding… This unknown person was…in your backyard, presumably and crawled through a large hole that neither you nor your dog noticed. Your dog chased them, but lost them just as quickly. From what we can guess, this person ran back into your house- hence the open door, tossed a bottle of vegetable oil into the oven- hence the fire, ran upstairs and escaped through the window while you were busy- hence the open window.”

Moira nods, although very slowly due to her hardly being able to process something that sounded so insane. Stephen frowns at her. “The culprit might have gotten caught and they would not have even gotten into the house if your door was locked. I hope you know that.”

“I know, but I was planning on being in and out anyway. The house gets really hot when I bake.” Moira explains briefly, before looking down to the counter with a frown. “I get it, though.”

The oven chimes, alerting Moira that it was at the correct temperature. Moira jumps a bit, and quickly brings a light smile onto her face- a far cry from her previous dull expression- as she adds another layer of egg wash and places the pie into the oven. After closing it, she sets a small timer and places it onto the counter.

“I think a more important subject of questioning is why exactly they would set fire to your house. Or at least try to.” Stephen says, covering his mouth with his hand in thought. “Considering you were busy handling your dog, it’s not as if they would have gotten caught if they’d simply jumped a fence.”

Moira frowns, thinking about that as well. It seemed a bit specific for someone to want to do so spontaneously as an attempt of a distraction. And even so, what are the chances that this person knew exactly where the vegetable oil was? Finding it in such a small amount of time would mean that they were likely looking for specifically that. And what if she didn’t have any oil? What would their random idea have gotten them?

“Do you think it’s a personal vendetta against you, then?” Stephen asks, which Moira immediately returns with an irritated scoff. If Stephen guessed what she was feeling based on her expression alone, he’d guess offended. Unnaturally so for someone like Moira, he thought.

“I don’t think so.” Moira says, tapping her fingers on the counter. “I don’t think anyone has a reason to set my house aflame. Or at least try to.” She frowns again. “And even so, why bother trying when I’m already home? If they wanted to trap me inside it’d be more effective to do so while I’m sleeping.” After a second of thinking, she asks, “What reason would they even have?”

Stephen raises an eyebrow at Moira, almost asking if she were serious. Moira in turn laughs. “I don’t think even you would commit arson, regardless of how annoying I am.” She puts her face in her hand. “I think you’re smarter than that.”

“If I didn’t know any better, Moira..” Stephen comments, “I’d say you were trying to flatter me to prevent that from happening.”

“Gosh, I thought I was more stealthy than that..” Moira blinks rapidly and holds a hand to her heart dramatically. Stephen scoffs, nearly chuckling at her remark. “Speaking of smart..” Moira mumbles, looking at the phone hanging onto the wall, “We probably should have called the..” She trails off, just now noticing something. The wire to her phone had been cut. “...well, I guess that wasn’t an option.”

The critic sighs, likely stressed at having to add that to their unlikely story. “We’ll have to go in person and report this, then.” Stephen comments, standing up to observe the cut phone wire. He then looks over to the oven, “..now wasn’t the best time to make a pie, though, I admit.”

Moira frowns, “Well, you did give me the ok.” She points out, folding her arms behind her back. “I can go after I finish up this pie. There's only half an hour left, I think.” Moira raises her hands again, tapping her fingers together as she smiles sheepishly, “So.. are you going anywhere after this?” She asks hesitantly.

“I am going to walk you to and from the police station, Moira.” Stephen says bluntly. Moira immediately exhales at his response, glad that he was able to pick her brain and prevent her from embarrassing herself. If he hadn’t she’d probably stretch the topic as far as it could go until she forgot to ask him at all.

“Thaaaank you.” Moira hums, smiling. “Speaking of, I haven’t properly thanked you at all, yet!” She claims, looking as if she had a particularly devious plan that obviously wouldn’t slide with Stephen.

Stephen raises an eyebrow her way, as if asking what she was planning with his facial expression alone. “Would you take a kiss?” Moira asks, grinning widely as she taps her lips.

“If it sent you to jail for assault, then maybe.” Stephen quips, walking past Moira to sit back down in the bar stool chair at the counter. “I’d like a slice of pie.” He then states, opening William’s Chocolatier laxly.

Moira claps her hands together. “That’s actually way better!” She says, standing across from Stephen’s spot at the counter. Stephen shot her another suspicious look.

“Explain. If you leave me without context I’ll feel obligated to avoid eating any pastries you make.” Stephen scowled at her, before looking back down to the book.

“I just.. Really want you to try it.” Moira claims, only receiving a disbelieving glance from Stephen. “I’m not lying! I’ve gotten used to my own recipe, and I’ve had others try it, but I don’t know if it’s really all that good.” She turns and grabs a glass plate, excited even though the pie was only half done in the oven. “I know at least that you’ll tell me the truth.”

“I am not a food critic.” Stephen reminded Moira. “Additionally, I don’t eat enough varieties of food to have any impactful opinion.”

No one really knew much about Stephen’s daily life, and Moira was no exception. This could be a good chance to learn a tad bit more about him at the very least. “Yeah? What do you eat regularly, then?” She asks, smiling widely as she cupped her cheeks in her hands.

To her pleasant surprise, Stephen didn’t seem to overthink her intentions when she asked him that. “Oysters and Gray Owl Cheese is my regular breakfast.”

“My God, you have horrible taste.” Moira immediately grimaces, and Stephen scoffs at her sudden change in demeanor.

“It’s healthy.” Stephen comments.

“It’s expensive!” Moira retorts.

“You make far more money than me, Moira. I’m not sure how you find that expensive.” The critic points out, folding one arm over the other as he gives her a judgemental look. He of course knew her net worth because of his amazing ability to strip her brain of everything that was available to grab.

Moira huffs, “It’s too expensive for something so gross. How often do you eat sweets?” She asked, peeking into the oven impatiently.

“I heard it takes longer when you’re watching.” Stephen comments, and Moira laughs, recalling her sister telling her as such. “And my sugar comes in the form of fruits and grains. Nothing else is needed.”

“Sounds like something an old man would say.” Moira mumbles. She immediately looks away with a sheepish smile as Stephen gives her a judgemental look. Their age difference was only two years, so Moira assumed that reaction.

As Stephen returns to reading William’s Chocolatier, Moira turns her attention outside. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to sit down or relax. It could be because of adrenaline because of the incident that happened just half an hour before, but Moira personally thought that it was because Stephen was here. She enjoyed having people over and always wanted Stephen to visit, but she never planned any of this. It wasn’t very flattering to be saved from a fire on a first date- especially if the fire and the date itself was completely unplanned. Moira scoffed quietly at her own thoughts. As if someone would plan a house fire for a date.

“Do you think that someone would plan a house fire for a date?” Moira asks suddenly, against her internal better judgement.

“Did you set a house fire in hopes that I would walk by and save you as a sad excuse as a date, Moira?” Stephen states more than he asks, not even bothering to look up from his book. Likely because he already knew the unlikeliness of her question.

Moira smiles, pulling a chair up to the counter to a spot across from Stephen. “Someone wrote about someone doing.. That.” She hesitates as that sentence plays again in her head, but quickly continues talking. “The girl was picking some apples from the tree outside of her house one morning, and apparently she’d knocked a candle over during one of her trips inside.”

“And someone came and rescued her.” Stephen finished.

Rolling her eyes, Moira taps her fingers on the counter and continues. “Yes, someone came at a very convenient time and put out the fire for her.”

Before Moira could continue her attempt at a cryptic storytelling, Stephen spoke again. “Her neighbor. He planned it specifically so that her house would be unlivable and so that she would stay at his house for the time being.” He finishes for her. “Typically gaslighting her.”

Moira kicked her feet a bit and smiled in surprise. “You read the book?!” It wasn’t too surprising that he would read a book, he has to do so to critique things of course. But the fact that he read her sister’s books was a pleasant surprise.

“You did recommend the book to me.” Stephen replies as if it was common knowledge. It was to him and her, but it wasn’t so much so common knowledge that Stephen actually took her recommendations seriously. She wouldn’t, with how much she blabbed mindlessly about her sister's books. If anything, she just uses it as a way to break the ice with new people.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually read it..” Moira hums, putting her face in her hands with a smile. “Do you give her any advice? Feedback?”

Stephen looks around the counter briefly, and Moira successfully guesses what it is that he’s looking for. She plucks a nearby coupon from inside of a drawer and hands it to him. After nodding his thanks, Stephen responds. “Critique. Yes.” He slips the coupon between the pages and closes the book, straightening his back. “Her stories have intense potential, she just needs to hire someone else to look at her books before she publishes them.”

Moira tilts her head to the side. “Yeah.. I think she knows that, she just doesn’t want to pay for it.” She responds, chuckling. Smiling, Moira adds. “I appreciate you looking into it, though. She says that despite all her readers and buyers, she’s gotten no critique back. No articles complaining about the bad things that weren’t just unchangeable opinions.”

“Like complaining that a character that the audience doesn’t want to be unlikable is unlikable.” Stephen sighs, as if he’d gone through something similar. “It’s as if the readers believe that consuming the content makes them eligible for altering the story as they wish.”

“Agreed!” Moira laughs. “I can’t stress enough how often good literature brings out the ego in consumers. And I think it’s even worse for artists!”

Stephen raises an eyebrow. “That’s debatable.” He claims, sitting back in the chair a bit. He seemed far more relaxed than when he first arrived. Which was understandable, considering the unlikely circumstances. Even outside of emergencies, though, Stephen was usually more stiff than this. “Did you write, Moira?”

“Huh?” Moira sits up a bit, looking at Stephen curiously.

“How you spoke of readers reminds me of a struggling writer. I haven’t heard of you writing on the side of designing, so I have to assume that you used to at some point.” Stephen explained, “Before you moved here, or else I’m sure I would’ve heard of it.”

Moira opens her mouth immediately to answer, but only a strangled “Uhh..” comes out. “...well.. I, ah.. Feel like that’s a long story.” She says, chuckling more so at the fact that she was taken by surprise at that question. “What about you?”

“Did I write?” Stephen inquires, and scoffs when Moira nods. “I tried for a very short time.” He pauses, before deciding to explain further. “I studied psychology when I was younger- as much as I could. When I was a teenager I had the idea that I could take ancient- or at least old incidents and attempt to dissect the brains of their masterminds.”

“How’d that work out, then?” Moira asked, leaning her face into her hands with a curious smile.

“Well, as I said, it didn’t last very long. I researched every biography- that and auto that I could find. But when I actually looked for the thoughts of my readers, I realized that none of my readers actually thought similar to me. They saw it as some bizarre conspiracy theory. Or even worse, some fictional story.” Stephen scoffed, scowling at the thought.

He exhaled, “I’m going too into that, though. I decided that if people were so set on leaving people’s histories to only the victor’s words, I’d leave history alone. Now, I focus on the present, albeit in an evidently smaller area.”

Moira hums quietly, her eyes half-lidded as she thought over what Stephen had just said. “So, are you.. Content? You said it wasn’t what you studied for, but is it something you enjoy?”

“Enjoyment isn’t my number one priority, Moira.” Stephen responds blandly. After a moment of thought, though, he decides to respond to something that might appeal to Moira more. “I enjoy my psychological input being put to the test. With my original goal, I was only looking into those of the past; those who had passed away. Now I focus on people who are here with me now.”

Stephen pauses for another moment before adding in a quieter tone. “I suppose in that case I appreciate your honesty as well. No one in this town is stupid enough to tell an obvious lie when people know the facts. But when it comes to things that others might be embarrassed about, they not only shy away from the topic but antagonize my thought process, even calling me incorrect.”

Moira chuckles a bit at Stephen’s irritation on the topic. “Well, I feel like any normal person would want to avoid embarrassing things like that. Is the reason you’re so offended because you’re honest?”

“I’ve been told as such.” Stephen says, averting his gaze from Moira’s. “Putting it simply, I expect from others what I give out to them. Which I’m aware is fair, but I’ve also been told that the way I treat myself is too harsh for others to treat themselves.” He looks back to her, “But you’re more honest than others I met. Hence why I said I appreciate how you.. are.”

Moira smiles, tapping her blushing cheeks. “It feels nice to hear that from you since I usually only hear criticism.” She hums.

“Hm..” Stephen looks away, his eyebrow twitching, seemingly embarrassed. “How’s that pie, anyhow?” He asks before placing his mouth in his hand.

“Oh, yeah!” Moira quickly fumbles with the mittens, excitedly looking into the oven as Stephen watches silently. This was certainly a pleasant end to such a chaotic day, Moira thought.