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

[enterstellars]

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.

[itsgaga]

ᴀxʟ ʀᴏꜱᴇ ɴꜱꜰᴡ

a/n- im fucking cackling at the pictures. this was requested but I can't find the request. whoops. anyways here you go

ok.

first off this man is fucking horny

let me just say that

like he could get it up whenever wherever.

don't doubt that dick

a concert? hard. at dinner? hard. at a store? yeah you guessed it.

hes the type to grab your hand under the table and move it onto himself so you know what's coming

also the type to tease in front of others

not to the point where others know but to the point where you are STRUGGLING

hes a giver

he gets off from giving

what brings you pleasure brings him pleasure

y'all seen that interview? ik you have

where he was like passionately talking about watching someone cum

like girl.

def the type to take his time

like the foreplay, the lead up to actually doing it, he takes his sweet time

which can be good

but other times it can drag, like you just want him to shut up and get to it

a kisser

a sloppy kisser

kisses your lips, your necks, your tits, just your entire body

its his way of showing his love to you, he's being gentle

speaking of that.

him fucking a groupie is different than a significant other

hes so raw and passionate

he radiates dominance and confidence

but stays loving and sweet at the same time

he puts you first, if you aren't loving it y'all aren't doing it

rather than when he is with a groupie, he doesn't fucking care

gotta finish and go. that's it for him.

now im warning you if you don't wanna be shared then skip the next few lines

unless you are his fucking soulmate, I fear Axl would bring up sharing in the bedroom

I read somewhere how he would watch his girlfriend hook up with other guys

and I feel like the only way he wouldn't want that is if you his fucking soulmate or you are that bitch(which im sure you are)

like he is jealous and possessive when it is out of his control like a guy flirting or trying to hook up with you, because to him that is just disrespectful, but if its something that you and him talked about and planned like seeing someone else make you react that way gets him off.

he gives you princess treatment in the bedroom

you want toys? you're getting toys

you want him to be louder? he'll be louder

faster?slower? harder? you'll get it.

he loves to talk

to tell you how good you're doing, how well you're taking him, or how good you feel

hes the type of guy where he'll ask you how it feels

like as soon as he's in and slowly picking up the pace

"does it feel good?"

or when he's going down on you he'll occasionally look up to see your reaction or to ask you if you like it

not because he needs validation like he knows that hes good at it

but because he's trying to find what's best for you

I can see him at times slipping up and getting so into it he doesn't realize how rough he's getting.

would wanna tie you up

again, the second you'd wanna stop he would

but he would GO AT IT if you were laying there tied up

like he could do whatever he wants to you

tying you up is something he'd wanna do often

it gives him the chance to make you feel a whole different type of pleasure

and it shows the trust you have in him

once you're finished he'll clean you up, make sure you're good and comfortable and all is well

then he clings onto you

sometimes the whole dominant persona disappears and he's all vulnerable and cuddling on you

other times he'll pull you on his chest and hold you

anything you need he'd get for you

whether its a drink or food or clothes he'd jump up and get it as soon as you say so

and would lay there holding you until the morning.

[louisupdates]

At Louis Tomlinson’s debut show in the country at Lollapalooza India 2025 in Mumbai, the pop singer-songwriter’s fans were like an additional member. Right from the early roar from the thousands gathered for a slot up front right at the start of the day (in searing Mumbai heat and humidity, no less), there was an energy that was intimate yet expansive at Mahalaxmi Race Course on Mar. 9, 2025.

Tomlinson’s set was prefaced by a video of him writing on a lens, “India! I told you so”—signed with his trademark smiley face. It was a loud and clear message from the star to his fans—known as Louies—that he was making good on his promise to come to India. The artist opened with punchy songs like “The Greatest” and “Kill My Mind” and went on to include hits like “Walls,” “Saturdays,” and “Silver Tongues,” with the energy between him and the audience never flagging.

Now that he’s been here and done just a handful of interviews, Tomlinson—a former member of the erstwhile pop group One Direction, whose songs “Drag Me Down,” “Night Changes,” and “Where Do Broken Hearts Go” also made it to his set—says he’s keen to be back. Speaking to Rolling Stone India in a well-lit, mirror-filled hotel ballroom, Tomlinson made his entrance for interviews a little past 1 pm on performance day, clad in a black T-shirt and shorts, tousled hair and quick-witted energy. When he said that he often comes off stage “buzzing,” the prep before a show also has him quite excited.

He’s well aware that it’s only an hour-long set at Lollapalooza India, so it might just fly by for him. He thinks out loud, and what he might do to come down from his performance. “I think I’ll probably finish and run over and try to watch Green Day, to be honest,” Tomlinson says. He adds, “But it’s nice if you just kind of take five minutes after the show to just take it all in. I’m gonna feel like I walk out little bit nervous [then] adrenaline is going to slap me around the face, and then I’m going to blink, and it’s [the set] going to be over.”

In our interview, Tomlinson talks about his interactions with fans in India, finally getting here and his advice to artists who may join pop group. Excerpts:

Rolling Stone India: Part of the reason you’re here in India is possibly due to the fan devotion, people asking for you to come here, right? What have your past interactions with fans from India been like?

Louis Tomlinson: I haven’t really had enough yet, but the few that I’ve had has been absolutely amazing. But also, you know, right back to my time in the band [pop group One Direction], I’ve definitely felt the presence from the Indian fans online. Yes, part of the reason I’m here is because people have been asking. But also, this is just somewhere I’ve always wanted to come not just to perform… [that] really feels like a luxury. But even just to be here and to visit, it’s definitely somewhere, where as a young lad, I never, ever imagined I would be in India, never mind performing here. It’s a real honor to have the opportunity, actually.

Before you could come to India, I imagine perhaps that a lot of fans from India have been going to your shows in other countries. When you’ve been in Asia and other parts of the world. Have you had any interactions with Indian fans? Have you seen maybe someone flying an Indian flag in the crowd?

Actually, I have, yeah. There’s been occasionally, I can’t remember exactly where… my memory is questionable, but I can picture someone holding up a banner of “India when?” I’m like, “Soon.” I think I replied to a fan online about six years ago, saying, “I don’t know exactly when, but I’m going to be here.” I feel really proud to be here and it’s another moment that I’d say, to any of the Indian fans – I could not, I would not be here without them. Anyone who’s coming to the show today should really drink that in if they really enjoy it and feel proud of me. It’s a collective thing, man.

I’m guessing you do read a bunch of fan mail and fan comments online, then?

I see a lot of what’s online.

But I’m guessing you try to keep your distance from it?

Well, listen, sometimes social media can be a bit of a toxic place. I sometimes like kind of seeing the gossip, you know? Kind of what’s going on between the fans and stuff. It’s kind of funny. But no, I think it’s also important that I have a bird’s eye view and understand what’s going on within the fan culture, etc.

I was kind of new to it that way to understand just how much fans do for you, if they have fan actions during songs. What is it like having that – I’m not going to say power – but that kind of influence on fans?

It’s beautiful man. Yeah, maybe power would be the wrong word. It’s such a collaboration, the whole thing.

Let’s just say for the sake of argument that there might be someone there today that has followed quite a lot of my solo career. I’ve come a long way since the start. I could empathize and imagine being a fan in the room today and just taking that ownership for yourself as well. That’s what I kind of love about this whole thing – I think, and especially tour shows, fans get a real opportunity to see their worth in a very literal sense.

They create these nights for me and for us, for these great experiences for both of us. So I think that’s a really beautiful thing. That’s why I always just want to put on the best show possible. Because I’ve never – and I mean this – I’ve never, ever, ever played a show that has been less than an eight out of 10. Every single time, the crowd give it everything. That is something that I will never, ever take for granted, especially today, when it’s a new territory, it’s a new country. I don’t know what to expect. I kind of have an idea, but I don’t know what to expect. So I imagine I’ll come off stage feeling really buzzy and excited, but probably really grateful as well.

You were saying in an earlier interview about how you look fans in the eye in the crowd and feel that connect. A lot of people cry, a lot of people shout, all those things happened at your shows. What is that connection like?

I would say those connections are so raw. I think outside of the context of a gig, that would be kind of crazy, to have those moments. But I think within the context of the gig, if I could truthfully [say], in those kind of moments, I feel the importance of the night for me and for the fan that I may be having that experience with. This is a high pressure job. That’s what keeps me really ambitious and really motivated – those really magical live moments where you can literally look right into someone’s soul and see what the night means to them. It’s really fucking beautiful.

Was there any recent instance of that happening, maybe at the London show that you played early in March?

Yeah, that was great, because that was a little bit smaller of a show than we’ve done recently. It really felt like everyone was kind of on top of me and the sound was really great. The time that might happen the most is when on the last song, in “Silver Tongues,” I’ll always climb down and get into the pit, and that’s where I will really have these really visceral, literal moments.

India is a country that you’re playing in for the first time, and it’s a festival. It’s not the full Louis Tomlinson experience. How do you prepare a setlist for those kind of shows?

It’s a funny one, because probably, on paper, I should probably pick all the singles, but I certainly haven’t. That’s probably what most people do when they come into a new territory. But no, this is a set that we’ve done a couple of times on the festival run, and I’m really happy with the energy and the pace of it. There are a couple of ballads, but most of it is keeping the energy and matching the fans’ energy in the room. So I’m quietly confident that we might have a great night tonight.

One of the things that’s happened in India in recent times is that more pop groups are being started again. There’s been a big talent hunt that’s going to start. What would be your advice to musicians who want to go into that?

I would say, don’t let anybody tell you what they think you should be. I mean that especially in that kind of environment. I can remember being in that situation as a young lad. I didn’t have any experience. I was surrounded by these incredible CVs and everyone’s always willing to tell you about their experience, but truthfully, in reflection, nobody knows better than yourself in that situation. It’s also what people are looking for the most. That’s where artistry comes from, where people are willing to be opinionated and willing to kind of say no at the right times. And it’s not to be a dick, but actually just to cover yourself. I think that’s really important. If you feel in your gut that it’s not right for you, then just say no.

Lastly, a message for your fans in India.

I don’t even have enough words, man. Thank you so much for all the support all over the years. I’ve felt it for a very, very long time, and I’ve got 60 minutes tonight to give you the best thank you possible. And then hopefully, if—actually, when—we have a great show, I can come back on my own. I’d love that. Thank you to everyone.

Louis Tomlinson performed at Lollapalooza India, produced and promoted by BookMyShow Live.

[the-dreams-i-dream-blog]

The summary:

2025 the boys of BTS were in the biggest band of the world, they have sold out shows and finished their mandatory military service. The world was theirs until an accident that happened in the year 2027 with their bandmate Jeon Jungkook. They all decided to break up after this accident, nobody speaking about it until now…. These are their interviews.

Pairing: yandere jungkook x reader

Warning: Hey guys this is a mini chapter it’s chapter 2.0. It has humor and serious moments, but nothing to dark yet. I decided to try something new. It is a little unhinged lol.

Mini Chapter 2.0- Feelings

(Video recording of y/n finding out she won the Weverse contest.)

Hi guys, I’m so excited right now Weverse is just about to release the winner of the BTS comeback contest. I’m praying it’s me but if it’s not, that’s OK I know the army that wins it. Will be grateful.

Wait. Wait. They just released the statement.

OH.MY.GOD. I WON

(excitedly screaming)

Screen goes black then back to the BTS boys interviews.

Min Yoongi-

This trip was planned all the way down to the napkin Y/N was going to use. The contest stated that it was a two week trip to Korea. Nothing in that mentions that BTS will meet the winner. Jungkook wanted to make it seem like Y/N just happened to ran into him on the street.He wanted a little of the chase that he always craved.

Kim Taehyung-

Jungkook likes to switch up his personality to fit the situation. It was no different for the scenario. The player man he had became finally stopped. The man who would drink morning day and night slow down. All because y/n didn’t seem to like those traits. 

Kim Namjoon-

Him finally getting her to Korea seems so familiar to me, like I’ve heard the story before then BAM it hits me. Jungkook is Hades and y/n is Persephone. Korea is his hell, his domain.

Kim Seokjin-

Wait.

I’m sorry Namjoon really compared

Jungkook to Hades and y/n to Persephone?

(He lets out a loud laugh)

Aish.

Namjoon always trying to bring his books to life.

Interviewer- Do you think they resemble that pair? 

Kim Seokjin-

Oh yeah for sure… them or Princess Peach and Browser

(He continued to laugh)

Interviewer- OK can you state when YN arrived to Korea?

Park Jimin-

Seeing Jungkook track her the moment she got off that plane was like seeing a cat with a mouse. She was just excited to travel, but what she didn’t know was that this prize she had won wasn’t just for her.

Flashback

Y/n POV

Cloudy and rainy was the weather Korea had when I landed my eyes kept wandering around the airport, not believing that I was actually here.

“Wow” I said under my breath I finally moved my feet so I can reach a cab. It feels unreal how I got here. The fact that I won the contest is just… wow.

When I finally got into the cab, the thought I should’ve remembered was that I don’t know Korean.

“어디로 가시나요?” Asked the cab driver. I blinked trying to comprehend what he just said. two knocks on the cab window, brought me back to reality.

I roll down the window and see there is a man standing there. I hoped and prayed he knew some kind of English and thank God he did.

“Are you y/n?” The man asks

“Yes…yes I am, I’m sorry how do you know my name?”

“You won the BTS contest, correct?” He keeps asking questions.

“Yes?” I responded

“I will be your driver for the next two weeks. You are here complementary of BTS”

 The drive to the hotel I was going to be staying in was amazing, the whole time BTS music was playing. It felt like a 2000’s movie where the main character goes to the big city. When I finally get to the hotel, I couldn’t believe how beautiful the room was and how big it was. on the bed was the free BTS merch and a bunch of snacks. I decided I wanted some light in the room so I went to the window and opened the curtains, and Boy was the view something I’ve never thought I would see. I’m just kind of upset that I couldn’t bring a plus one on this trip. 

(Back to the interviewers)

Park Jimin-

Oh yeah I forgot!

Jungkook made sure she couldn’t bring a plus one.

He didn’t need someone in the way of his plans.

Min Yoongi-

He thought about everything, except the fact that she didn’t speak any Korean.

Kim Seokjin-

This stupid stupid boy

HA!

He didn’t think about that detail!

She was American that only spoke English.

Min Yoongi-

The only person who was in the way of his plan was himself

(He let out a little laugh)

Kim Namjoon-

I really didn’t want anything to do with this.

So I distanced myself from him I mean, I talked to him during rehearsals but I pulled back.

I’m the type of person who knows their limits and boundaries and Jungkook during this time was breaking all of my boundaries and limits.

Kim Taehyung-

What a shame he was fucked in the head.

Interviewer- Wait I’m sorry I feel like we are getting away from the story here. Just tell us when Jungkook finally decided to approach y/n?

Jung Hoseok-

I will keep it short… okay?

She got off that plane.

She started having everything tracked.

They met at the Han River at 7:37am because she wanted to experience it early when not a lot of people were there.

Jungkook just happened to be on a early morning “run”

(Hoseok rolls his eyes)

Interviewer- I’m sorry you look annoyed, what’s wrong?

Jung Hoseok-

It’s just…

I know I could’ve stopped this somehow. I’m annoyed at him and I’m annoyed at myself.

She didn’t want this she never asked Jungkook to do the things he did.

I saw everything he was doing, and I didn’t step in to stop it. I blame myself for that night.

(He starts to tear up)

Min Yoongi-

Hoseok and I were really close to y/n, she became our little sister. Hobi blames himself a lot because he dropped her off at her and Jungkook’s place that night knowing she didn’t feel comfortable.

I’m sorry I’m going way ahead of the story.

Interviewer- No.No. It’s okay, I want to hear your guy’s feelings, we can continue the beginning in the next episode.



***Sorry guys if this one seems off I wanted to try something new for this. That’s why it’s a mini chapter if you don’t like how it came out please let me know. Chapter 3 will be out next week and it will be more on top of the beginning and go into detail. Love you guys

Tagz: @kokoandkookie @petersasteria @crispynutella







[nophunleague]

stare decisis: chapter eleven - indicium

indicium: latin for clue

masterlist

wc: 1202

rafael barba x original female character

Quinn’s bony fingers rap Rafael’s front door authoritatively as she taps her toe impatiently on the tile flooring in his building’s hallway. 

She checks her watch impatiently as her wait reaches a minute then huffs and begins to look at her legal pad again in her apparent downtime. Her ginger hair is pulled back in a french braid but in her haste to get to his apartment, small wisps of warm tendrils have fallen out and in front of her face. She lightly blows a few out of her eye line as raises her hand to knock again when the door swings open. 

“Ms. Brady, it’s awfully late,” her foot is through the threshold before he finishes his sentence. She looks up briefly to orient herself, she’s met with a rich but bare apartment; warm accents and a brown leather couch compliment the amber toned lighting and the walnut coffee table in the living room. 

“Please, by all means, come on in,” he remarks before he slams the door shut and follows her into his abode. 

“Yeah, yeah. No time for that,” her flippant speech flies through the air as she tosses the few case files and her legal pad onto the coffee table and sits down on the floor next to it. 

Mac’s departure last night has given her ample time to dive back into the Claudia Gundy case; “there’s something missing here. Our accessory/witness, Justice Yang, says that Carson called him at 7:45pm asking for a ride, Rudnick says Claudia is maybe dead by then. But there’s not call in the records coming from Carson’s phone at that time. Not to the witness, or anyone else. Now, in their second interview with Rollins and Carisi, the witness says that the call came from Carson but not from his number, so maybe Carson borrowed a phone, you would like to think. But no, the witness says the call came from a payphone. It’s 2015, there’s maybe, what, two payphones left in Manhattan? And none of them are anywhere near where the witness picked Carson up; that of which we have on video. There is a hole in our timeline that will jeopardize a conviction. We need to figure this out,” she continues on by spouting different theories of what they could be missing. 

Barba watches with eyes wide before speaking again, “how did you find out where I live?”

Quinn continues to pull different pieces of discovery from the files, laying them out in some sort of organized fashion “I called Sergeant Benson first, but you know she’s not my biggest fan so then I had to call Carmen - someone who actually halfway likes me.”

“Have you been drinking?” is his next question as he eyes the familiar drop of red liquid on the chest of Quinn’s “Germany” sweatshirt. She stops flipping through her legal pad to make siren-like eye contact with him. 

“It’s a Friday night and I was home. Of course I’ve been drinking, and don’t tell me you haven’t been doing the same. I can smell the scotch from here. But at this very moment, I - no, we, do not have time for your petty I hate Quinn bullshit. You. Need. To. Listen. To. Me,” her words are sharp, they cut through his judgment like a razor sharp blade. His eyes bounce from her to his momentarily abandoned glass of scotch on the kitchen counter and then to her masterfully made mess of evidence. 

“Will you say that all one more time, just a little slower?” She nods slowly and turns back to the coffee table, he stands behind her getting an eagle eye view of the paperwork. As she explains her theory once more, she points to each piece of evidence that supports the theory, working her way through the papertrail of a timeline she had managed to organize. 

As her explanation draws to a close she holds up one piece of evidence up to him, “There are exactly two payphones in Manhattan, one in Times Square and one in Harlem. But Carson was picked up by the witness in Chinatown,” Barba takes the paper from her hand and studies the map intently.

“He could’ve made the call and then taken the subway, this doesn’t destroy the timeline,” her hand flies up again immediately with the suspect’s metro card account and his bank statement. She had been anticipating that argument.

“His metro card was not swiped during the time between the call and being picked up, plus he didn’t pay for another metro card to get to Chinatown,” Barba runs a hand over his chin, his five o’clock shadow rough on his fingertips. 

“He could have jumped the turnstiles,” he ponders.

“And if he did, we could have him on camera, we can look at that on Monday,” she says, she’s tilted her head back to look directly up at him, her braid almost tickling his legs through his slacks - which he still has on for some reason. 

“So if he wasn’t where he said he was, or where he got picked up at the time of the call. . . where the hell was he?” he looks down to meet her eyes, a magnetic and mischievous smirk graces her face, there’s a fire in her eyes as red as her hair. 

“That’s what we’ve got to figure out. And why I brought all of this to you,” she motions to the pile of papers and then pats the floor next to her, “come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

They work for another hour or so and by that time they have both resorted to sitting on the couch, sore bottoms and all. They’ve slowed down considerably, sleep’s warm embrace calls to Rafael as he rubs his eyes harshly. Quinn seems to be unphased by the late hour. But they’re in the middle of a big break in the case, sleep is not an option for him. 

“Do you drink scotch,” he offers, her blue eyes look up to meet his, a small smile on her lips.

“Well I started my night off with a great red wine but I guess scotch will do now,” she quips and then her head is back down combing through the case files. 

She thanks him when he returns with the glasses of scotch, she takes the glass into both hands from his singular one, her fingers brush the tips of his, she then pulls the glass to her lips to take a sip. She breathes in slowly as she takes in the taste of the well rounded scotch, eyes closing as she lets it wash over her senses. “This is a good one,” he smiles at her and tells her the brand and year. 

“I’m glad you can appreciate it, not many people do.”

“Well I’m an attorney, so I guess I had to grow into the stereotype,” she shrugs and sets the drink down on the coffee table then begins to flip through the notes she had made in her legal pad again before speaking up one more time, “plus I’m Scottish, so it would be sacrilegious if I didn’t like the water of life.

(a/n: updates might be slow for the next few months, traveling a lot for work at the moment.)

[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.” 

[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…

[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...

[redsupulse]

On Fire, Filled with Love

"Are you killing me finally?" He grew drowsy, on fire, filled with love. "Do it, yes."

Tim Drake x Reader, Interview with the Vampire/Devil's Minion inspired AU. Vampire!Tim Drake x Human!Journalist!Reader

MDNI, this fic is not explicit, but the overall series will be.

Warnings: Pre-Relationship, Stalking, Unhealthy Dynamics, Reader does hook up with someone else but it is only very vaguely described, breaking and entering, Minor Monster fucking (as much as vampires are monsters), Mind reading, Reader is Gender Neutral. Implications of a Sugar Daddy dynamic, minor mentions of blood, mentioned minor character death/murder.

AO3 Link Here. This is a direct sequel to my work, The Hunt Begins, and both are a prequel to my other fic, Beloved

-

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen the vampire who's been keeping you company. Tim’s schedule is inconsistent, but this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing him since you started actually getting along. Usually he’s only gone for a few days at a time - never any more than five. You don’t always speak, but he will lurk a couple steps behind you at least. After six months together, you’re beginning to think he’s gotten bored of you. You should be elated to be rid of your vampiric stalker. You aren’t.

Unfortunately, you can’t stop to wallow, you still have work to do. You go out, find the interesting stories in the world, sell what you write. Every time dusk comes around you expect for him to appear, and he doesn’t. So you continue on with your life. You end up in a bar after a particularly long interview, trying to relax your stressed nerves. Someone buys you a drink. He’s not bad looking, and he’s good at maintaining conversation. But he’s not Tim. 

But Tim’s left you. Who knows if he’s ever going to return?

It’s also been longer than you care to admit since you’ve gotten laid.

So you go home with him. You’ve already decided you’ll be out as soon as the deed is done, but why not have fun while it’s happening?

And it’s okay. The stranger has set a steady rhythm behind you, but your mind still wanders - always working a mile a minute to find out everything about everyone around you. You happen to glance at the window and realize his blinds are open.

Radiant green eyes stare back at you, glowing brightly in the dark. The realization forces a gasp out of you and a jolt of arousal down your spine. Tim is standing on the fire escape of the building next door, staring at you with hunger in his eyes. Part of your brain thinks you should probably stop this, tell your companion. Instead you shove your hand between your thighs and bring yourself off in a few quick touches of your hand. When your vision clears, you expect for Tim to be gone, a trick of your own mind, but he’s still standing on the fire escape of the adjacent building, now smirking. At this point you’ve completely drowned out what your… companion is doing, locked in a hypnotizing stare with your monster. Rise, his voice purrs in your head. It’s only then that you realize that the man you had gone home with had finished and vanished off to… somewhere. You rush to get off the bed and get dressed, only to be interrupted by… (Harlan? Halen? Hal? You can’t remember). “Oh, are you leaving already?” It’s hard to tell if he’s disappointed or relieved. Or you just don’t care.

“Uh, yeah, I have an early morning. Sorry.” You hunt for your shirt without looking up, pulling it on as you slide your feet back into your shoes, “I had fun, thanks for that.” 

He steps in front of you, blocking your way long enough to hand you a scrap of paper - probably with his number on it. You cram it in your pocket without thinking, then you’re out the door before he can say anything else.

Tim doesn’t join you at any point on your journey home, though you can feel his presence lurking on the edges of your mind. You stay up waiting for him until you physically can’t anymore. 

-

You awaken early the next afternoon, on your couch, still in the clothes you were wearing when you left your apartment the day before. Nothing of note has changed when you do a quick scan of your apartment before you shower.

It isn’t until you re-enter your bedroom that you spot two scraps of paper on your nightstand. One has been neatly ripped in half, directly through the center of the guy from last night’s number. The other is a sticky note from the pad on your desk, with “TD” initialed neatly in the center.

You ignore the way your heart flutters in your chest. 

-

You only go out for a few hours that day, too wired from the tease of your immortal companion returning to do anything productive with time. The sun goes down and you wander the city like a ghost waiting for a taste of his presence, but none comes. Dejected, you return to your apartment. You’re two steps into the door when you notice the trail of gift boxes. One rests on the table in your entryway, one on the edge of your kitchen counter. On your bookshelf, atop your dryer, the floor right in front of your bedroom door, and one last one on your bed. They increase in size as you go. Carefully, you begin unwrapping them as you perch on the end of your bed. A basic silver chain, a press pass for your favorite band’s first show in a month, a bottle of your good (expensive) perfume, a new bag for when you’re out interviewing people, and a brand new laptop. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who left these. If you were a sane person the idea that he can break into your apartment at your moment's notice would scare you.

Instead it sends a bolt of arousal through you.

You’re still not entirely sure how the whole “vampiric telepathy” works - but you decide to try something out anyway. After a minute of focusing only on thoughts of Tim, you think Thank you for the gifts. The silence that follows kills your excitement. You know it’s not limited by distance (he once started speaking to you while you were in the middle of nowhere America and he was - or at least claimed to be - in Dubai). Maybe it’s one way limited?

This does only work one way, Tim’s voice in your head supplies, though if you think hard enough it makes the thought louder for us to hear. 

A smirk breaks across your face, aw, were you keeping an ear out for me?

A moment of silence - you have particularly loud and annoying thoughts. 

Something is making you act up, maybe it’s the thrill of his return or maybe it’s the hurt you’ve been feeling about your abandonment. No, you counter, I think you like me or something. Why else would you get me a, your search of the laptop sitting in front of you finally loads, thirteen hundred dollar laptop? You try to play it cool, keeping the shock out of your… voice? Thoughts? Who needs a laptop this expensive? Why do they make laptops this expensive?

You can hear Tim’s laugh in your head, this is mind reading, dear, I heard all of that. 

Whatever, I give up on trying to look cool. Thank you again for the gifts, but I have to go to bed, I have an early morning tomorrow.

What is so important that it interrupts our time together? He sounds petulant, rejected. You hear him huff at just the mere passing of those words.

My boss is paying me to go to Pompeii to follow some leads, early flight. Another huff from the terrifying predator of the night. Goodnight Tim.

A few moments of silence, then, Goodnight.

-

It all comes to a head one night soon after, walking the ruins of Pompeii - places you probably aren’t supposed to be this late, unsupervised. There’s not a security guard or another person in sight though, late enough in the night that the last of the crowds from the evening tours have left. Something tugs at your brain, bringing you down a series of complicated paths you probably won’t be able to retrace. It calls you into the ruins of one of the houses. For a moment, you’re standing alone in the dark, then in the next, Tim has emerged to stand in front of you. He slips an arm around your waist, kisses your cheek, and whispers, “would you like to come inside?” He’s warm with the blood of a fresh kill. The pair of you enter the house, the low ceilings and his arm around your waist giving an air of intimacy.

That’s when it hits you. He’s not going to kill you. He won’t make you like him, but he isn’t going to kill you. Your game won’t end like that. He-

“Of course I love you,” Tim turns to you so you're pressed together, chest to chest. His arm doesn’t leave your waist. “How could you not know? If I didn’t love you, I would have killed you months ago.” 

There’s a hesitation, just for a moment, as you process this realization. A many centuries old monster, a predator who sustains himself on killing people like you, has fallen for you. You should be terrified of this. And yet, you find you’ve fallen for him in return, in all of his forms. More monster than man, more man than monster, it doesn’t matter. 

A soft, restrained smile graces Tim’s face as he looks into your eyes. He bends, slowly, and presses his lips to your neck, right over the mysterious scar. Sharp teeth pierce your neck, bringing a sudden pain and a burning warmth that flows through your body. You prepare yourself for a swoon that never comes, as Tim pulls away just as quickly as he bites down. He probably took less blood than your last cooking mishap did. His arms leave your waist, fiddling with something behind you. He brings one of his wrists up to his mouth and bites down. When he turns it toward you, “drink beloved.” So you do.

The first touch of vampiric blood to your shocks through your entire nervous system. It’s like your body is getting electrified in ways that would kill a normal human. All at once, the quiet ruins seem to be filled with whispers, as if the ghosts who haunt this place have risen to see your exchange. It cuts off soon after, the bite on Tim’s wrist healing like nothing was ever there at all. There’s blood all over your chin and neck that Tim quickly dives in to clean up. You don’t know what of it is his blood and what of it is yours. He traces a line from your collar bones up to your lips. Finally, finally bringing you into a kiss. “You’re now mine,” he whispers as he pulls away.

“Haven’t I always been yours?”

[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. 

[nerawrites]

Chapter 17: Last day

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Ships: David x Fem!oc

Warnings: None i think

Song: Changes-Langhorne Slim & The Law

Masterlist

Alicia hadn’t expected to feel anything about leaving New York.

She had come here for a reason—to test herself, to sharpen her skills, to get some space from The Bear—but now, as she walked into the bar for the last time, she felt something settle in her chest. Not regret, not quite nostalgia, but something close.

The city had been a whirlwind—loud, relentless, indifferent—but it had also given her something. She just wasn’t sure what yet.

After her last night of work she did what now became a nasty habit, ending her night at a bar. David was already there, nursing a beer like always. When he spotted her, he gave a small wave, his usual smirk softening just slightly, like he was actually glad to see her.

“Still here, huh?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Alicia slid into the seat beside him, ordering her usual. “Figured I’d stick around a little longer. Finish what I started.”

David raised a brow, feigning surprise. “Oh yeah? And what exactly was that?”

Alicia smirked. “Getting under your skin.”

She gave him a playful shove, and he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Well, mission accomplished. But, you know, I’m not mad about it.” He took a sip of his beer, watching her with something unreadable in his gaze. “Not everyday you meet someone who can actually keep up.”

Alicia grinned. “Oh, so you are gonna miss me.”

David scoffed but didn’t deny it. “Let’s just say, it’s rare to find someone worth arguing with.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, but Alicia felt the weight of the last few days pressing in.

She knew she should’ve been thinking about Chicago—about going back, about what waited for her there. But she had been avoiding it.

Not because she didn’t care—she did. More than she wanted to admit.

But thinking about The Bear meant thinking about what she was walking back into. And right now, she wasn’t ready for that.

She swirled her drink, keeping her voice light. “What’s next for you?”

David shrugged. “Got an interview tomorrow. The usual—convince them I still give a shit, remind them I know what I’m doing.”

Alicia lifted her glass. “You’d better mention me. Tell them about all the times I had to fix your dishes these past days”

David snorted. “Right, because you were keeping me afloat.”

She smirked, but when she spoke next, her voice was quieter. “I don’t know what’s next for me, though.”

David glanced at her, his teasing expression shifting into something more thoughtful.

“I thought Chicago was it,” Alicia admitted, staring down at her drink. “Thought I could belong there, that The Bear was the right place. But now… I don’t know.”

David was quiet for a beat before speaking. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, you know.”

Alicia scoffed. “Yeah? Tell that to everyone who’s waiting on me to be something.”

David leaned forward, resting his arms on the bar. “Here’s the thing, Alicia. You’re good—really good. And you don’t just ‘fit in’ somewhere. You change the places you walk into.”

Alicia blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice.

David smirked, sensing her hesitation. “I mean, you are still a pain in the ass. But you’ve got more going for you than you think.”

Alicia let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. “Thanks, I think.”

They drifted into easier conversation, the usual jabs and teasing, but something had shifted. The sharp edges between them had softened, even if just for the night.

As the drinks kept coming, their laughter became looser. They swapped kitchen horror stories, poked fun at each other’s mistakes, and admitted, in the haze of alcohol, that maybe they didn’t totally hate each other.

“You know,” Alicia said at one point, her words slightly slurred, “I’m gonna miss this.”

David raised an eyebrow. “The city or me?”

Alicia snorted. “Oh, definitely not you.”

David smirked, lifting his glass. “To being a pain in the ass.”

Alicia clinked her glass against his, shaking her head. “To tolerating each other.”

The night stretched on, neither of them rushing to leave.

By the time Alicia finally stood, she felt… lighter.

Maybe she didn’t have all the answers yet. Maybe she wasn’t sure if Chicago was home, or if she even wanted it to be. But something about this trip—about David, about Eleven Madison Park, about testing herself in ways she hadn’t in a long time—had given her something.

She just had to figure out what.

The terminal buzzed with the usual travel chaos, but Alicia barely heard it. She scrolled through her phone, her unanswered messages still sitting there.

Sydney. Marcus. Richie. Even Ebra had sent a simple Hope you’re good.

She should text back.

She should let them know she was on her way.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her thumb hovered over David’s contact.

She hadn’t planned to text him—hadn’t planned on saying anything at all—but something about leaving things unspoken didn’t sit right.

She tapped out a message.

Alicia: Yo, you were right about me.

She hesitated, thumb hovering over the send button.

Then, almost immediately, her phone buzzed.

David: Knew it. Secret’s safe with me. And just so you know, you’ve got more going for you than a name.

Alicia exhaled, a small, unexpected smile tugging at her lips.

Maybe she didn’t have everything figured out.

But for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel so lost.

As she boarded her flight back to Chicago, she pocketed her phone, her messages to The Bear crew still unanswered.

She’d text them soon.

Just… not yet.

Because once she did, she’d have to stop avoiding what came next.

And right now?

She wasn’t quite ready.

[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.

[ear-worthy]

Everyday Sommelier Podcast: Wise About Wine

Alcohol consumption seems to be a popular topic for thousands of podcasts. There’s the WhiskyCast podcast, The Best 5 Minute Wine Podcast, and The Beerists Craft Beer Podcast, along with a cast of innumerable podcasts.

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Wine has long established its snobbish appeal and is constantly trying to shake it off, appealing to more middle-class Americans. For example, actor Patrick Warburton is known for his commercials for Barefoot Cellars wine, particularly for their spot featuring the tagline “Official Wine Sponsor of the NFL.” These commercials often poke fun at the complexities of both football and wine, highlighting the ease and enjoyment of enjoying Barefoot Cellars with friends. He also appears in Barefoot Cellars commercials that emphasize the ease of enjoying wine with friends and making your own traditions.

That’s the case with the Everyday Sommelier podcast with Kristi Mayfield, wine educator. Mayfield’s marketing pitch is a simple one: “Welcome to Everyday Sommelier, where we make learning about wine approachable, fun, and something you can actually enjoy. I’m your host, Kristi Mayfield — think of me as your sommelier next door, here to help you cut through the complexity so you can enjoy every glass with confidence and learn wine your way.”

Like many who use a podcast about an alcohol product to generate revenues for their ancillary business, Kristi Mayfield is no exception.

Mayfield explains: “Driven by a passion for wine and a desire to empower others, I founded WINE WIZE to provide foundational wine education and take the fear out of wine. Combining extensive corporate experience with a deep knowledge of wine, I understand the importance of creating memorable experiences and ensuring that your wine skills shine.”

Mayfield continues: “Discover wine confidence with Wine Wize’s programs designed for YOU. Whether you’re a wine enthusiast, service professional, or business leader, we offer approachable classes, immersive workshops, and custom corporate training. Learn wine your way — building skills, connections, and confidence with every sip.”

It’s a smart way to use podcasting to bolster your core business. The podcast, which began in December 2024, is off to an encouraging start. First, the episodes run about 25 minutes, which is perfect timing before listeners’ heads explode with wine jargon. Second, Kristi Mayfield is both knowledgeable about wine and excellent at conveying interesting and valuable information about wine drinking. For example, Mayfield explains the concept of vintage variation, when the exact wine with the same grapes grown in the same location can have a taste differential.

For example, in the first episode, Mayfield explains that there are only 400 Masters of Wine in the world, 200 Master Sommeliers. She also tells that there are over 1,000 wine-making grapes around the world. That’s news to many wine drinkers, who know only Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay!

Mayfield explodes the myth that “to truly enjoy wine, you have to know it all.”

Mayfield, it turns out, is a superb podcast host with an intuitive knack for speaking to listeners via the microphone. Her interviewing skills are solid, and her passion for her topic is evident.

In the January 14, 2025, episode, “Why your favorite wine tastes different this time,” Mayfield explains the difference between predictable wines and authentic wines.

Kudos to Kristi Mayfield for adding a section to her show notes called, “By the time you finish listening, you’ll discover.” It’s an excellent teaching tool and lends credibility to her show’s objective about wine education. Nicely done, Kristi.

Kristi Mayfield also has an uncanny ability to devise episodes that hit at the heart of understanding wine. Other episodes so far include The Truth about Wine Additives, Good Cheap Wine (My favorite subject!), Mastering the Art of Wine Tasting and Navigating a Wine List with Ease.

Mayfield is eminently qualified in the study of wine. Wine & Spirits Educational Trust (WSET) is a world-recognized leader in wine education. Kristi has completed WSET 3 with Distinction, the highest mark, and continues to test her wine knowledge and skills.

Additional Certifications: WSET2 with Distinction, Court of Master Sommeliers Intro, Texas Wine Ambassador

Mayfield is proud of her resume: “With over 20 years of corporate experience in sales leadership and international business development, I confidently navigate the world of wine in both personal and professional settings. From corporate dinners to networking events, wine tastings to beverage industry gatherings, I approach the wine list with assurance, knowing exactly where to begin.”

I highly recommend Everyday Sommelier podcast. Kristi Mayfield makes the show interesting, informative, and engaging within a convenient runtime. If you drink wine, you can become more knowledgeable with no expectation of expertness. If you don’t, you can learn about an activity you’ve not yet experienced.