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textmel8r · 6 months ago

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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity

୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo

You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try.

The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”

“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”

You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”

Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“Some would call me experienced, yes.”

His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Steak au whatever.”

You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”

Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”

“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”

“Any more French, you mean?”

He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak.

“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass.

Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”

“No way,” you chortle.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”

The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail.

“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”

He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”

“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.

“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”

You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”

“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.

“Toji, honey, are you alright?”

What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?

“Can we fuck now?”

“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”

Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”

He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in.

A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.

Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance.

God, you won't even look at him.

Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”

You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.

“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”

It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.

This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips.

At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him.

“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.

You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.

He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I trust you, too, Toji.”

He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around.

Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.

He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.

“No marks, I’ve got work.”

His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now.

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.

“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other.

“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle.

“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”

And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”

You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”

His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”

Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline.

“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”

You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”

You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”

“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”

He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.

Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.

Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.

“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”

Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.

It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.

Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.

Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”

He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.

“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”

He’s good.

“You’re so good.”

“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.

Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”

“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.

The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.

Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.

He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.

“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”

“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.

“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.

Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.

His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.

“You alright?”

A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.

“Answer me, please.”

Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.

“You’re filthy.”

He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”

You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”

You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”

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godslino · 6 months ago

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HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.

“Do you guys have french fries?”

“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.

He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you.

“We do, yes.”

“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”

“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands.

“Why would you do that?”

Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.

“Do what?”

Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”

Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”

“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”

A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat.

Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.

“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”

“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”

“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off.

Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.”

You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness.

Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.

“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.

“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.

He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.

It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.

Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned.

But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.

“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.

“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?”

Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.

“Do I get to be in it this time?”

You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet.

You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.

It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.

"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."

Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”

You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”

Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food.

Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.

Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.

“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording.

He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”

“Are you insane?”

“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”

“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”

Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.

He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.

Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.

[ tags: @102598s @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @palindrome969 @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @astronomicallyyy @doohnut @linocz @romancerry @djeniryuu @pinkpunkdynamite @pynchkilledme @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @liknws @beeracha @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year ago

Text

herogasm ~ soldier boy;the boys

word count: 3678

request?: no

description: in which she’s trying to leave the supe orgy, just to stumble into the room of the man who started it

pairing: soldier boy x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, praise, unprotected p in v), mentions of herogasm (the event, not the episode)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I didn’t want to be there. There was a number of reasons why, but the most prominent one was definitely that I did not want to be involved in an orgy full of Supes.

My best friend, Maria, had convinced me to come. I had gone through a pretty hard breakup that left me basically inconsolable for days. I only left the house to go to work, and even then I was very much just operating on autopilot. Maria wanted to get me out of the house, so she came over and told me she had gotten an invite to some big Supe party and intended to take me with her to get my mind off of things.

She didn’t tell me until we showed up that the “party” was the infamous Supe orgy known as “Herogasm”.

Apparently, Maria had hooked up with a Supe who had an in to the party. She got the invite and thought an orgy would be the perfect idea to get me over my breakup. There was just one little flaw in her plan: I was not an orgy person. I was insecure enough about my body that I felt awkward being naked in front of one person, let alone an entire house full of strangers. Supe strangers at that.

Maria abandoned me the minute we walked through the door, taken by the Supe she fucked to get here. I was left, on my own in the corner, while a lot of naked people walked or fucked around me. A couple glanced in my direction, one even tried to proposition me, which I politely declined. I wasn’t sure how long I was stood there before everything became overwhelming. I needed to get away from all those people. I needed to be somewhere with no moaning or screaming or sex noises. Somewhere that I could calm myself down before I left.

I stumbled through the house, feeling my heart pounding harder and harder with every overwhelming second that passed. Behind almost every door I could hear more moaning and squelching. It felt like there was no true escape from it - there was even people fucking outside - until I turned the knob on a door that led to a seemingly empty room. I stumbled in, slamming the door behind me and sliding down it until I was sat on the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my head against my knees.

“Well, hello there.”

I jumped at the sudden sound of someone’s voice. I looked up to see I had hidden myself away in a bedroom. The main bedroom, I concluded, judging by the huge size of the room, the bed, and the fact there was a mini bar in the corner of the room. A mini bar with a man stood behind it. A very handsome man in nothing but a silk robe.

“Shit,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, I - ”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said. “Judging by the fact that you still have clothes on, you’re not here for the orgy.”

I shook my head. “One of my friends brought me here. She didn’t even tell me what it was until we pulled up.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment before stepping away from the mini bar. I tensed up as he got closer to me. I was trying to figure out if I’d get out fast enough when he reached me. He reached over me and turned the lock on the knob.

“Stay as long ad you want,” he told me. “Not that anyone usually comes in unannounced anyways. I think you’re the first person to stumble into my room in years.”

My eyes widened as he started walking away. “Y-Your room? So...you’re the host here?”

He turned back and raised an eyebrow at me. “You serious?” I nodded. “I created this whole fuckin’ thing. Herogasm is my baby.”

That’s when it finally clicked. “Holy shit, you’re Soldier Boy!”

He grinned at me before he took a sip of his drink.

I couldn’t believe it. I had stumbled into the room of the most famous Supe in the entire world and I didn’t even recognize him at first! God, this couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

“You don’t have to huddle up by the door like a scared kid,” he said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I wasn’t sure if I could take his word for it. I knew he was a Supe and all, and Supes were supposed to protect people, but he did have me locked in his room, while he was naked no less. Well, besides a robe. I’d be helpless against him if he did decide he wanted to hurt me.

Despite knowing this, I still slowly got to my feet. He was pouring up another glass as I walked further into his giant room. It was like the size of my living room and kitchen combined. I was in awe of it so much that I could hear Soldier Boy chuckling to himself. He extended a glass to me and gestured to the bed. I took the glass, hesitantly, and sat down.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Bourbon,” he responded. “Some of the best shit money can buy.”

I wasn’t much of a drinker. I could smell the strong, alcoholic scent before even raising the glass to my lips. I took a small sip and immediately cringed at the stinging feeling that ran down my throat. Soldier Boy laughed.

“That’s God awful,” I groaned.

“You just don’t appreciate fine alcohol,” he said.

“I appreciate it when it doesn’t taste like battery acid,” I retorted. “What are you doing in here, anyways? If you created this...thing, shouldn’t you be partaking?”

He grunted and took another mouthful of his own drink. I figured that was the best I would be getting from him.

“How did you get in?” he asked. “It’s invite only, and usually the only non-Supes invited are hookers.”

I looked down at my glass again, debating on taking another sip. “My friend hooked up with a Supe who gave her the invite. She lied at the door and told them I had been invited, too.”

“Then she ditched you?”

I nodded. “Probably getting her pussy super-stretched as we speak.”

That made him laugh. I felt some sense of pride at that. The most famous Supe in the world was laughing at my jokes. That had to be bragging rights.

“Sounds like a shit friend, then,” he commented.

“No, she is a good friend. She’s very...sexually liberated. This type of thing is very up her alley. Me, not so much.”

“Then why did she take you here?”

I gazed down at the glass of auburn liquid. The memory of my recent breakup brought back all my negative emotions. With one swift gulp, I finished the contents of the glass. I shuddered as it burned down my throat.

“My boyfriend of four years dumped me,” I said. “Just woke up one day and told me he didn’t feel the same way anymore. After we had just moved in together a few months prior.”

Soldier Boy whistled. “That sounds rough.”

“It was the worst fucking day of my life,” I muttered. “Maria, my friend, I guess she thought a super-sex party would be the best way to get me to move on. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, and all that.”

“That never works. Trust me.”

Oh, there was a story there. I could tell. One that was probably connected to the reason he wasn’t participating in his own orgy. Normally, I wouldn’t pry. I didn’t know Soldier Boy. He would probably forget all about me once I left his room. But the bourbon was starting to get to me. I found myself leaning forward, close enough that I could smell his aftershave.

“What happened?” I asked him. “What made you not want to participate in Herogasm?”

He looked at me. I could tell he was debating on telling me. I wasn’t sure if I should push the issue further than those questions, even if my curiosity was getting the best of me.

Finally, he sighed and said, “My girl left me because of one of these things.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I couldn’t even remember who Soldier Boy’s “girl” was in that moment.

“We used to host together,” he explained. “Once a year, we would allow each other to fuck whoever we wanted at Herogasm. One night, one meaningless orgy, and that was it. Then, a few years back, she comes to me the day after Herogasm and she tells me that she met someone that night. I don’t know, I guess they talked in between the fucking or some shit. She dumped me on the spot for the guy. Took all of her shit and left that same day.”

Okay, definitely a lot worse than my sob story. My ex completely shattered my heart, sure, but he didn’t leave me for someone else. Especially not someone that he fucked in our own house, during a party that we were hosting together. Even if they had an agreement that they could sleep around during Herogasm, that was a huge hit to trust. One that I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten over in his shoes.

“Since then, I haven’t participated,” he continued. “I’ll host, since it’s my creation, but I usually just walk around, make sure everything is going okay and everyone is having a good time, then I hide away in here until everyone gets too tired from the fucking and either leaves or falls asleep.”

“Why keep hosting it if you don’t want to participate anymore?” I asked. “Why not hand it off to someone else?”

“Because it’s my thing. I created it, and it got bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. I thought about cancelling it after Countess left me, but it’s become this huge thing to Supes and their groupies. I don’t want to disappoint anyone by cancelling it, and I wouldn’t want anyone else stealing it from me and making it a shit version of what it used to be.”

Before I could respond, there was a bang against his door. We both jumped and turned towards the door. Judging by the rhythmic beating on the door and the shouts of pleasure, it was just a couple that had decided to use Soldier Boy’s door as another fuck place. I chuckled and turned back to him. My laughter died out, though, once I realized how close we had gotten to one another. My face was mere inches away from his. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. The closeness made my heart start pounding a little harder.

The alcohol had definitely kicked in because I did something that was very unlike me in that moment: I leaned forward and kissed him.

He was receptive right away. His free hand moved to hold the back of my head. His lips moved perfectly in time with mine. His tongue slid against my lower lip, asking permission for entrance, and I gave it to him. I let my empty glass fall to the floor, luckily the fall being cushioned by a rug next to his bed, while he placed his on the nightstand next to the bed without breaking our kiss. In one swift movement, he moved me so that I was straddling his lap, not once breaking our kiss.

His hands explored my body, running down the sides of my torso, to my hips, then over my ass. He grabbed the meaty flesh there, rocking my hips forward unintentionally (or maybe it was intentional) against him. His cock was growing hard and I could feel that the tip was starting to peak out from his robe. Suddenly, I felt very overdressed compared to him, and I wanted to change that.

I broke away and Soldier Boy watched with lust filled eye as I pulled my shirt over my head and discarded it onto the floor. I stood from his lap to unbutton my jeans and let them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them and stood in front of him, just in my lingerie. Realizing how naked I was, I felt a little shy suddenly. Like I wanted to cover myself up or make all the light in the room disappear so that he couldn’t see me. But when he pulled me forward again, standing me between his open legs, and leaned forward to start kissing over the exposed skin of my stomach, the insecurities melted away into desire again.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Don’t you dare think of hiding this beautiful body away from me.”

I was shocked that he knew what I was thinking, but I didn’t have time to figure out how he knew. His hands were on me again, pulling me down onto his lap and then quickly turning the two of us so that I was laying beneath him on the bed. I could feel him pressing against my inner thigh as he kissed me again, a pool of wetness starting to fill in my panties.

He moved one hand between my legs, opening them up for him, and ran his finger over the clothed material. I gasped and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth again.

“You’re already so wet,” he noted. “How long has it been since you were touched?”

The answer was a bit embarrassing. That probably should’ve been the first sign that my relationship was going downhill, but I was too naïve to notice that we hadn’t been having sex. Or maybe just too blind to the downfalls of my relationship.

When I didn’t answer, he pulled my panties to the side and slid a finger into me. The sudden protruding felt painful at first. I dug my nails into his arms hard, but didn’t leave any marks or didn’t seem to hurt him in any way. He slowly started thrusting his finger in an out of me until the pain turned to pleasure, and then he added a second finger.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he commented. “That asshole must not have stretched this pussy out in a long time. Either that, or he had a microdick.”

His fingers gained speed. I could hear them becoming wetter and wetter every time he thrusted them inwards. I was well beyond cloud nine, probably cloud twenty at this rate. Whenever I opened my eyes all I could see was stars, and Soldier Boy’s face watching me as I came undone beneath him. He was an expert in ways I could only dream of, reaching places I didn’t even know could feel so good. He had me on the edge of my orgasm, when suddenly the pleasure was ripped away as he pulled his fingers from me.

I whined, trying to reach for him to get the feeling back. But he pulled away from me, putting the two fingers covered in my slick into his mouth and sucking them dry.

“You taste just as sweet as I thought you would,” he said.

“Please,” was all I could manage. It almost sounded pathetic how desperate I sounded.

He smirked down at me. “I’ll give you what you want. I just want you to cum on my dick instead of on my fingers.”

He sat up and untied his robe, throwing it to the floor along with the other discarded clothes. His cock finally sprang free, standing at attention against his stomach. My eyes widened at how big he was. I should’ve anticipated it, I figured most Supe men were probably well hung, but it a shock none the less. I wondered if I would even be able to take his whole length.

He spit on his hand to lube himself up, moved my panties to the side again, and then lined his tip up with my entrance.

“Ready?” he asked. I nodded and he began to push into me.

My gasps and moans filled the room as he slowly slid into me, inch by inch, almost at a painfully slow rate. I felt so full with him completely inside of me. I could feel the burn of him stretching me out around his girth, but even the burn felt like pleasure. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him back down to me. I kissed him again, hungrily, desperately, and he got my silent message to start moving.

His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters. It felt so good to feel him pushing in and out of me. His dick was so long that I could feel it not only poking my g-spot, but absolutely abusing it with every thrust. It sent shockwaves of pleasure through me that I wasn’t even sure I had felt before. My head fell back onto the pillow, letting moans tumble from my lips as they felt the need to.

“F-Fuck,” I breathed. “S-Soldier Boy.”

“Ben,” he said, not breaking his pace. “Call me Ben.”

“Ben,” I moaned instead. Definitely a better name to say in bed. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? I think I can tell.”

I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he had a cocky smirk on his face.

I ran my hands from his shoulders down his toned back to his ass. I gave it a squeeze, urging him to go faster. I could feel my high coming back, and I desperately needed to chase it. He did as I wanted and his thrusts became faster, rougher. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with my moans and his grunts. He took hold of my legs and wrapped them around his waist, giving himself a better vantage point for his rough thrusts. I screamed out as his dick pounded against my g-spot, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“I can feel you’re close,” he said. “I can feel this fucking pussy getting tighter. Cum all over my cock. You can do it, beautiful, I know you can.”

His words of praise and encouragement sent me toppling over the edge. Stars exploded from my vision as my body trembled and convulsed around him. It was the hardest I could ever remember orgasming in my life, and it was definitely the best orgasm I could remember having. I felt like I was flying off of the bed and high into the sky, never to return to Earth again.

If it weren’t for Ben above me, still thrusting and whispering words of praise into my ear, I probably would’ve thought I had actually floated away.

His release came shortly after my own. I could feel his dick twitching inside of me before he was coating my walls. His arms tightened around me as he rode out his own orgasm, grinding into me until he has squeezed every last drop into me. He pushed himself up so he could look down at me again.

“You look fucking gorgeous after being filled with my cum,” he commented.

I felt myself grow hot at the compliment, but my body felt too heavy to cover myself.

“Are you...are you on the pill or anything?” he asked. “I probably should’ve thought of that before, but I was kind of...busy. I can get you a plan b. We have plenty of those lying around for this day.”

I lazily shook my head. “I’m good. I’ve been on birth control since I was a teenager. Besides, I don’t think Supes can reproduce, can they?”

“We’ve been unsuccessful in that field thus far. Thank God.”

I started to chuckle, but it turned to a gasp as I felt him pulling his soft cock out of me. Even when it was soft, it was big. I could hardly believe all of that fit inside of me.

He took hold of my panties and pulled them down my legs, gazing at the mess he had left between them.

“That’s a fucking beautiful sight,” he commented. I rolled my eyes and tried to close my legs, but he quickly held them open. “No, let me see this for another little bit at least.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“You just fucked me, what does that say about you?”

He eventually climbed back into his bed next to me. I could still hear the orgy raging on outside of the door. I chuckled to myself, causing Ben to look over at me and arch an eyebrow.

“I fucked a Supe at the Supe orgy,” I explained. “But just one Supe, and it was the guy who created the whole fucking thing. I was planning on leaving when I stumbled into your room.”

“Well, thank God you didn’t.”

He put an arm around me and pulled me into his chest.

“Maybe getting under someone does help you get over someone,” I said. “I don’t even remember my ex’s name now.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “That is a good thing. If you find yourself remembering, though, you know where I live. You can always come over and I’ll help you forget again.”

I looked up at him. “Really? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

“I don’t intend for it to be. Did you?” I shook my head. “Okay, good. Since we’re on the same page, my offer still stands. Although, the offer actually extends to any time you want to come over, for any reason. Not just for some rebound sex.”

“That’s a dangerous offer. In a house this big, a bed this big, I might never want to leave. I might just live in this bed, honestly.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

We both laughed as he pulled me in to kiss my forehead. I made a mental note to thank Maria for dragging me to the super-fuck party when I finally found her again. Turns out, it wasn’t such a bad time after all.

#soldier boy #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #imagine #one shot #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months ago

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Hiii! Could you imagine one where the reader finds out she's pregnant during one of Spencer's missions and when he comes home she has a crisis and ends up feeling ill and Spencer doesn't know how to help and the reader doesn't know how to tell him she's pregnant. (Both are already married)

i took this opportunity to set my pregnant!reader series into the future cause i already planned for them to have another child. request is tweaked justttt a little.

“my dear sweet penny, can you hit me with a bus? i want this misery to end.” you’ve been hit with the worst stomach bug or flu or just something that’s been lasting since spencer went on his case, five days ago.

your mom took your daughter for the day when you realized you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon and you called in your reinforcement of one penelope garcia. the case ended yesterday but the team had to stay an extra day due to weather in their state, so penelope has been keeping you company for the past two days. it was nice to have an adult conversation instead of bluey and the same princess movies.

“okay, if you’re pleading for death that means it’s time to head over to a hospital. i don’t want spencer to hypothetically bite my head off if something happens to you.” her bright blonde hair was your shining sun in your darkened bedroom. and her jewelry were loud gongs with each step she took. “i hate to sound like a bitch but can you like, be the opposite of yourself today?” moaning and groaning as you tried pushing off the tossed sheets.

“yeah, you need a doctor. cause and i quote ‘penny if i even say to change yourself i’ve been abducted and that’s an alien.’ hopefully they can give you good drugs.”

at the hospital they took some blood, made you pee and just did a bunch of other check ups when it was shown you were sick with anything. so after an hour or so your doctor renters the sterile room with his clipboard and a poker face. “well, you’re not sick, but you are pregnant. we’ll get an ultrasound in here to check on the fetus.” talk talk talk and then he left again, leaving you and penelope open mouthed shocked.

“holy shit,” breathing out as your hand rubbed over your still small belly. “i told spencer i couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” telling that to the ceiling.

“oh, i’ll have another godchild! i’m so happy to live vicariously through you.” penelope stood at your side and smiled down at you. you turned your head towards her, “you know when they’re older, you’ll be our go-to babysitter then. so just be prepared for that.”

with the ultrasound done they confirmed you were almost done with your first trimester and that left you a bit shocked. you were three months pregnant but didn’t know, now you understand how some of those other ladies feel. but you were excited for another, but then you were done, seriously.

you tried calling spencer after leaving but his phone when to voicemail, but you didn’t think anything of it. probably feel asleep or out doing something with his team. so when you arrived to your mom’s place you were a bit surprised to see your husband holding your daughter and swinging her around.

“you’re back!” penny the first to speak and move further into the home. spencer and anna both turned their heads and smiled at the bright lady. “auntie penny!” your annabeth squealed with an arm out.

she happily took her from spencer’s hold and moved her away so you could talk with spencer. his puppy eyes and downturn mouth made your heart soar, oh how he’s gonna get you into so much trouble.

“you feeling better? your mom said it’s been a week.” pulling you into his hold, cheek pressed into his chest as his palms rubbed over your shoulder blades and spine. you sighed, “yeah, penny took me to the doctor. turns out i wasn’t sick… i was- i am pregnant.”

spencer’s hands stopped and leaned back, “what?” his brows raised into his curling locks. “how far along?” “three months…” biting into your bottom lip as you watched him go through his mental calendar. you both knew your period was irregular, that’s why you didn’t think anything of it.

“so it must’ve been sometime after annie’s fourth birthday,” spencer came to the conclusion. leaned in to peck your forehead, “are you okay with another?” always making sure you were okay with the decision.

you smiled up at him with a twinkle in your eyes, “absolutely.”

#erin’s blurb requests #a 1k special #erin writes spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x pregnant!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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hyperballart · 3 months ago

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taking aphrodisiacs with patrick as a joke…

being at his place and both of you being bored out of your minds. you’ve been hanging out with him for a couple months since he came up to you one day after class asking for notes. now youre on his couch half listening to a movie he put on the dvd player while eating the remnants of the pizza you ordered. you turn to him, “i need something sweet, got anything here?” he murmurs something about you looking through his pantry and you get up, dusting off small crumbs of bread from your skirt. as you’re rummaging through all the junk stored in there, you miraculously spot a bag of kit kats on the top shelf. you’re about to call patrick to help you reach for it when a sudden tug of your fingers is enough to bring it to the floor. you curse and pick it up but next to the bag you find a few chocolate bars from a brand you’ve never heard of.

you pick them up and examine the black packaging with gold detailing and read the contents in the back. you come to the realization that you’ve found your friend’s stash of sex chocolate edibles. you hold them behind your back and walk in front of him with a shit-eating grin. he looks up to you annoyed, “what? do you mind? you’re blocking the tv.” you pull out the boxes and giggle, “why do you have these?”

you see him slightly blushing and stutter something out about them actually belonging to his roommate and telling you to put them back. you don’t listen, instead suggest something that you’ll probably regret later.

you don’t know why or how exactly everything came to be, but now youre both giggling and surrounded by all four empty chocolate boxes on the couch. it’s been about forty minutes and you feel a bit airy, patrick no doubt does as well. the previously neglected movie suddenly becoming hilarious as you’re both fighting tears and holding your stomachs. you come to the realization that you haven’t yet checked how legitimate those treats were so you ask your friend, “how are you? like, do you feel anything? i’m not sure these did their job.” he turns to you as his laughing dies down, “god i’m so fucking hard right now,” he leans his had back and keeps eye contact and brings a hand down to cup himself through his sweats, “it’s been like this for a bit—mm fuck,” your eyes are growing lidded and your starting to notice the effect on you as well.

for about thirty seconds, you look between his face and where his hand is softly petting his dick through his clothes, his mouth parts a bit and he’s quietly panting when he reaches down and squeezes his tip. he notices how unusual it is and quickly mutters a sorry, i’m a little high before picking his hand back up but you stop him. your own palm reaches out to touch him and he’s dragging it under his sweats and letting out a shaky sigh when you touch him bare. he’s hard, harder than you’ve ever felt a man and you almost feel bad. how long has he been like this? you pull him out and he fucking moans in your ear, his tip is steadily leaking and he won’t stop throbbing. “oh my god, yeah—touch me please”

you don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, you let him know this and hes quickly begging you to sink down on his cock—“c’mon baby, sit on it,” he roughly handles you to straddle him, “cum on me, i need it” your panties are still on but you’ve soaked right through them, they’re basically transparent and the feel of patrick desperately humping your cunt through them is enough to bring you to an orgasm within a minute. “oh holy fuck, yeah—“ patrick is shaking under you, he’s trying to push you down harder on him and he looks like he’s about to cry.

you don’t even need to hold him, he’s hard as steel, but you do anyway. you press him at your entrance through your panties and he squirms, pushing his hips further so they poke at your covered entrance, wanting to get inside you. both of your eyes roll back at the sensation, and you’re starting to drool. you keep going until he groans a shit, i’m coming on you and you decide you need more.

he’s coming back slowly, and you’re lifting up your skirt to reveal where you’re both connected. he glances down and the sight is enough to be engraved in his brain forever, he’ll jerk off to this memory until he fucking dies. your white cotton panties are soaked and soiled, they cling to your pussy and outline your lips in a way that makes patrick twitch under you. his cum is still dripping from your pussy and your thighs keep twitching, he can’t wait anymore.

he groans—almost angrily—and in one moment, he has your panties pulled to the side and pushes up into you in a single thrust. both of you release disgustingly obscene sounds at the relief and there’s no time before you’re fucking each other like rabbits. he’s in your ear, “you’re getting everything wet, messy fucking girl,” he moans when you clench down on him hard, “that’s it, milk this fucking cock, i’m gonna come in you—that’s what you want.” he doesn’t phrase it as a question, he knows you do.

after a couple minutes he’s doing just that, and you follow right after. even as you’re spent, laid down next to him, you still ache and he’s still hard. you don’t even wait until his cum stops dripping out of you until you’re going at it again. and again, and again.

art is gonna be pissed when he comes home and sees you two got into his stash.

#got carried away #this was supposed to be a lot shorter #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #challengers fic #patrick zweig #my writing #challengers smut

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itneverendshere · 4 months ago

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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - five

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

warnings: angst <3333333 for everyone <33

word count: 7.7k

The ride back to home was a blur. The plane ride, the ferry.

Everything.

Every mile away from Rafe felt like reopening an old wound, over and over. The cops kept trying to make small talk, but you barely said a word. One-syllable responses if anything. Eventually, they just gave up and let you stare out the window in awkward silence.

By the time you pulled up, even the streets of The Cut didn’t make you feel any better. Home didn’t feel like home anymore. It was weird, almost like you didn’t recognize it. Walking in with the officers behind you just made everything feel more real, like a slap in the face of the life you were stepping back into.

“Your brother and your friends were rescued from a remote island a while ago. He was informed of your whereabouts an hour ago, he’ll be here soon.”

You barely processed what they were saying. It didn't really sink in. You just nodded, like you were on autopilot, but your brain was still stuck in everything that went down two days ago. What kind of sister doesn’t freak out when she hears her little brother’s alive and okay?

You should’ve been losing it with relief, right? But all you felt was this weird emptiness. You were supposed to protect him. You didn't.

Their words barely registered.

You nodded numbly; your mind still stuck between the events that had unfolded just two days ago.

What kind of sister had you turned into? Barely phased over the fact your little brother was thankfully alive and well? You were supposed to protect him.

They could tell you were checked out, they exchanged this look, like they didn’t know what to do with you, then quietly stepped out onto the porch, leaving you to rot with your thoughts.

You wandered around the house, but every step felt so heavy. Every room was just a reminder of what used to be. The couch where you'd would argue over stupid TV shows while Luke was off doing who-knows-what, the kitchen table where it was just the two of you, eating and sharing stories like nothing was wrong... It all felt so distant, like snapshots from another life you couldn’t touch anymore.

You knew, deep down, things would never go back to how they were.

You ended up in my room, collapsing onto your bed, the sheets still smelling like home. But even that didn’t help the ache in your chest.

It didn’t feel right. Nothing ever did unless your brother was there.

But now, not even the thought of him being back could bring you peace. All you could think about was Rafe. His smile, his touch, his voice—every part of him was still so clear in your head, and it hurt so bad to remember.

That must be your punishment.

A soft knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. You sat up, heart racing. Your body was still on high alert, even the tiniest noise made you jump, like you were waiting for something bad to happen.

The sound of gunshots still echoed in your mind. It hadn’t even been three days.

The old wooden door creaked open, and there was JJ, his bright blue eyes wide and full of worry. He rushed to you so fast, you almost lost your breath when he pulled you into this bear hug.

"Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky, "Holy shit."

Tears just started pouring out of you, and you couldn’t stop. You were full-on sobbing while he held you like you used to hold him when he was little, and it killed you. It was all so wrong. It devastated you. It felt so disappointing. He was never supposed to be the one carrying the family burden, you were.

After what felt like forever, you pulled back and wiped your face, your throat tight. JJ sat next to you, searching your face with those big, worried eyes.

“You’re not hurt?”

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to get a grip. All you could manage was a small “No. You?”

“No,” JJ nodded, lips pursed into a tight line as if he was figuring out what to say next, “They told me about the shooting.”

Your heart sank further at his words. You had hoped to avoid talking about it, at least for a little while. You didn’t want to talk about that. Not yet. But the way he looked at you, like he used to when you'd protect him from everything, you couldn’t just shrug it off.

“I’m fine, I swear.” You reached out and squeezed his hand. "What about you? How did you get off that island?"

JJ let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“It was a mess. We were stuck there for weeks, trying to find a way out. Pope and Kie kept us sane, but it was rough. We finally managed to signal a passing boat, and they rescued us. But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You squeezed his hand even tighter, his words hitting you like a truck, and the guilt just kept building. You squeezed his hand tighter, trying to keep it together.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, JJ."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, don't apologize. None of this is your fault. I—I should’ve saved you on that ship, okay? It’s on me, not you.”

You felt another wave of tears coming but swallowed them down.

“You did everything you could. We both did. None of this is your fault."

“The one time we changed places, and I couldn’t do it.”

"Jay—"

"I should have been there for you," he cut in, his voice cracking. "I hated not being there. "I hated it."

God, if only he knew.

If he found out what really happened with Rafe, he’d hate you. It wasn’t his fault—it was yours. You pulled him into another hug, trying to say everything you couldn’t with just your touch. The weight of everything—your guilt, your pain—was too much, but at least you had each other. You could feel his body shaking, and you didn’t even know if it was from exhaustion or emotion.

When you finally let go, you took a deep breath, hoping to find some semblance of strength.

"We’re gonna be okay.”

JJ nodded, though you could see the doubt in his eyes. "I know. It's just... hard."

"I get it. But we're both here, we're alive.”

He gave you this sad little smile, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

You sat there in silence for a bit, and it felt fragile, but at least it was peaceful. Outside, you could hear the waves crashing, like life was still going on, even though yours felt like it was stuck.

"Do you think things will ever go back to normal?" JJ's voice was quiet, almost hesitant, like he didn't want an answer.

Normal? The nightmares of him finding out about Rafe haunted you every night, mocking at your mind. But You couldn’t tell him that. It made you want to scratch your skin raw.

“Yeah.”

"Yeah," I lied.

You could see how tired he was, like he was just as drained as you felt. You both needed sleep, but honestly, the idea of closing your eyes terrified you. The nightmares were always there, waiting.

"Let's try to get some sleep," You suggested softly, though you weren't sure you could follow your own advice. "We both need it, ‘kay?”

“Let’s try to get some rest,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I could actually follow through. "We both need it."

JJ nodded, even though you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He lay down next to you on the tiny bed, and you barely fit, but it was comforting. Just having him close made you feel a little less broken.

The minutes passed in silence, the only sound being the waves outside. You focused on them, using them to ground myself. Slowly, you felt the tension start to slip away, just a little.

"Do you remember the first time we went out on the boat alone?"JJ’s voice was barely a whisper in the dark, like he was holding onto a memory that felt safe.

A small smile crept onto my lips. "Yeah. You swore you knew how to steer, and we almost crashed into that sandbank."

He chuckled softly. "We were so scared. But you figured it out. You always do."

The memory was bittersweet, a reminder of when things were simpler, back when your biggest problem was not sinking a boat and you weren't a complete fuck up.

Now, you felt like you were drowning every day.

Your eyes started to get heavy, and JJ’s breathing next to you slowed, evening out. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn’t. If you did, you'd lose him for good.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless. Empty, like how you'd been feeling for way too long.

Morning came too fast, sunlight slipping through the curtains and filling the room with a warm glow. You blinked awake, feeling disoriented for a second before everything from the past few days came rushing back. JJ was still asleep next to you, his face finally relaxed, looking so much younger and peaceful.

You carefully slid out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The officer who comforted you after the shooting promised he’d call as soon as there was an update on Rafe. So far? Nothing.

You couldn’t help but wonder if the hospital had already contacted Sarah. She was basically the only family Rafe had left, other than Wheezie, who was just a kid, and Ward… well, a literal wanted criminal now. It made sense for them to reach out to her first.

If you called the hospital yourself, they wouldn’t tell you anything—You weren't family. And asking Sarah? She’d immediately know something was off. There was no way you could risk that.

The kitchen was weirdly quiet, the early light stretching shadows across the walls. You made a cup of coffee, letting the warmth calm the cold ache inside you, but even that didn’t really help. Sitting at the table, you tried to think of some kind of plan. You needed to know if he was okay, but every option felt like a trap.

Suddenly, your new phone buzzed on the table, shaking you out of your thoughts. You grabbed it, heart pounding, seeing an unknown number flash on the screen. Your stomach twisted, but you answered.

“Hello?”

“This is Officer Thompson. I promised I’d keep you updated on Rafe Cameron’s condition.”

You closed your eyes, thanking God for finally giving you some piece of mind, “Yes, thank you.”

“He’s stable,” Officer Thompson continued. “The surgery went well, and he’s in recovery. It’ll be a while before he’s fully back on his feet, but he’s out of immediate danger.”

The knot in your stomach loosened just a little. “Thank you for letting me know.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“I know this is difficult, but you should focus on your own recovery too. There’s a chance the feds will contact you, they’re building their case on Ward. What happened to you is, unfortunately, considered a minor crime compared to everything he’s done, so maybe you’ll get some peace. If not, you might have to testify against him.”

Testify. The thought of standing in a courtroom, reliving everything in front of strangers, made your skin crawl.

“And Rafe? What are his charges?”

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

A deal. The idea of him getting out that easily should’ve made you angry, but instead, you felt this weird sense of relief. You hated myself for it. You wanted him to pay for everything, for all of it. But now? You were clinging to any slim chance of freedom, even if it wasn’t fair.

You thanked Officer Thompson again and ended the call, setting your phone down with a shaky hand. The coffee had grown cold, but you didn't have the energy to make another cup. You sat there for a long moment, staring into nothing.

The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see JJ in the doorway, his hair sticking up in all directions, still half-asleep.

“Who was that?” he asked, his voice groggy.

“Uh—Officer Thompson. He was at the scene the other day and told me he’d keep me updated.”

JJ tilted his head, his messy bed hair making him look like a confused puppy. “Updated on what?”

“Rafe’s condition,” You replied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. It was a half-lie, but at least you were giving him something.

He stopped mid-step, “And you care because…?”

“For closure, I guess," You mumbled, trying to brush it off like it was no big deal.

His gaze softened a little, but not by much. He pulled out a chair and sat across from you. “You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

You winced inwardly. "JJ, you can't just say stuff like that."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Why not? After everything he’s done, he deserves whatever he gets."

You couldn’t really argue with that, but something inside you felt the need to defend Rafe, even if you hated that feeling. He had saved your life, and that wasn’t something you could just forget.

“He’s still a human being, okay?”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head like you’d said the dumbest thing ever. "Barely."

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so angry, so defensive. But it made its way up your body until your lips were moving again, practically spitting the words out.

“He saved my life.”

Your brother stared at you like you were speaking another language, “Saved your life? Are you serious? It’s his fault you were there in the first place!”

“He chose to help me. And I can't just forget that."

JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “This is insane. One good deed doesn’t make up for all the shit he’s done.”

“I know that,” I said, reaching out for him, but he pulled back before I could touch him, your fingers only brushing against his shirt.

“Do you?” His voice was cold, and the way he looked at you—like he didn’t recognize you—cut deep. It was the look you dreaded seeing in your nightmares, and now, it was real, it ten times worse.

"I’m not saying he’s a good person. I’m just saying… it’s complicated."

He started pacing around the kitchen. "Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is even alive. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who screwed us over gets to play hero for one day, and now you’re defending him."

"I'm not defending him," You said, voice rising. "I just… I saw a different side of him. Maybe he can change. Or at least help put Ward away."

You never raised your voice at him.

JJ stopped and spun around to face you, his eyes blazing. "And what if he doesn't? What if this is all part of some twisted game for him? People like Rafe don't just change, okay? They manipulate, they hurt, they destroy."

“JJ—"

“You sound just like her.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. Suddenly your entire soul felt like it was being drained out and slashed into pieces. A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment. All you life, you’d been told you were like her—just as blind, just as soft.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s exactly the type of bullshit she would spit out about dad, wasn’t it? And look where it got her.”

"That’s the kind of crap Mom used to say about Dad, remember? And look where it got her."

Memories of mom came rushing back—the excuses she made, the false hope she clung to, and the endless disappointment. You weren't like her, were you? You weren't defending a man who was never going to change. You couldn’t be. You’d spent your entire life trying not to be like her.

It wasn’t fair. You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you mercy. How could he think you were blind to Rafe’s faults? You knew them all too well. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and fiercely defensive.

“I’m not her,” You finally managed to say, your voice cracking, “I’m not defending him like she did.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “I’m not doing this with you, not right now.”

You turned away, your fists clenched at your sides as you fought to keep it together.

He followed you hot on your heels, "Don't walk away from me.”

"I'm not defending him," You insisted, your back still to him, “I’m just trying to understand, okay?”

“Understand what? Jesus, Rafe is who he is.”

"And maybe he can change," You fired back, the words spilling out despite the tightening knot in your chest. "Maybe he saved my life because he wants to change."

"He's manipulating you," JJ retorted, his jaw clenched. "Just like he always does. You went through some traumatic shit together, but that doesn't mean you owe him anything."

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face him again. Your head was tingling, the headache already forming itself, and you felt hot all-over. The word "traumatic" set you off.

“Some traumatic shit?” You repeated, “Are you fucking serious?”

JJ raised both his hands, tangling them in his hair in frustration, “You almost died, and now you’re standing here, defending the guy who put you in that position in the first place!"

The accusation hurt. You hated fighting with your brother and he wasn’t wrong. You hated that Rafe was coming between you both, but you couldn’t shake what you felt.

He shook his head, disappointment oozing from him, "Good luck with that. Just don't expect me to sit here and act like everything's okay."

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes, "I'm not asking you to. Can't you see that maybe things aren't as black and white as they seem?"

“All I know is what he's done to us, to you."

“And what about what he did for me?” The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth.

“And what did he do exactly?" Your lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from his mouth, “What did you do?”

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. You couldn’t let it out. Not yet. Not to him.

Not to JJ, not yet.

"I don't expect you to understand," Your voice was strained,"But I’m not turning my back on him.”

JJ's eyes narrowed; frustration etched on his face. "Why?”

“Because I want to!” The scream ripped from your throat before you could stop it, tears spilling over. "I’m still my own person, and I can make my own decisions."

He opened his mouth to fight back, but the words seemed to evaporate from his tongue. The kitchen was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and your instant regret.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning away. “Do what you want.”

You watched him walk out of the kitchen, his back stiff with anger and disappointment. It was the first time you'd ever yelled at him, and you hated every second of it.

Alone again in the kitchen, you sank back into your chair, your energy completely drained. Part of you wanted to run after him, to explain yourself, to make him understand.

But he wouldn’t. How could he?

None of them would.

Because unlike you, they weren’t stupid enough to sympathize with Rafe Cameron.

Sitting there, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd crossed a line. You stared at your hands, still trembling from the argument, and let out a long, shaky breath. What was it about Rafe that had such a grip on you?

You heard the front door creak open and shut—JJ leaving. Maybe that was for the best. You both needed time to cool off. You got up, poured the coffee down the sink, watching it swirl away. Weirdly, the sound was kind of comforting, like you were washing away the mess clinging to you.

You spent the entire day locked away in your room, ignoring the sun, ignoring everyone. Your phone buzzed again, and for a second, you thought about letting it go, but you couldn’t. You picked it up, expecting another call from Officer Thompson, but the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat.

Sarah.

With a deep breath, you answered. “Hey sweets.”

“Hi,” Sarah’s voice was almost unsure. “JJ and the police called earlier, told us what happened. Are you okay? I’m on the mainland with John B, we’re taking the next ferry back home.”

You closed your eyes, somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to face them yet.

“Yeah, I’m…Managing. I'm okay.”

“Good, that’s good,” There was a pause, and then she asked, “Have you heard anything about...Rafe?”

Had the hospital not called her? How much should you tell her.

“He’s stable. The surgery went well.”

Sarah sighed, “Good. That’s good to hear I guess.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should ask, but you did anyway. “Sarah, did the hospital call you?”

There was a long silence on the other end before she replied, “Yeah. But I…I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I knew it was coming after the police called. But—Yeah, it’s just, it’s really hard.”

You didn’t know what to say, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re the only one not giving me shit about still… caring, I guess. He’s my brother, you know? And I want to hate him. I should hate him. But I can’t.”

"I get it, Sarah. He’s your brother. It’s okay to feel conflicted."

"Yeah," She exhaled heavily, "But I don't know how to deal with it. He's done so much harm, and yet. I keep hoping there's still some good left in him. I know there's no hope for my dad, but Rafe..."

She trailed off, and you knew exactly where she was coming from. She’d seen Rafe before Ward broke him down. And you knew she still carried that guilt—the guilt of being the favorite, never standing up for him, even when she saw Ward lose control.

“I get it,” You whispered. You were both tangled up in love and hate when it came to him, the messiness of family making it impossible to separate the two.

“He was good to me.”

There was a long pause. You expected her to hang up on you, to freak out and call you a list of degrading names, all of which you felt you deserved. She had enough at the hands of her brother— the same brother you had come to care for, despite knowing the full extent of what he’d done.

But you underestimated her. You'd momentarily forgotten just how compassionate and noble she was. She possessed a goodness smiliar to your own—loyal, forgiving, and endlessly understanding.

Both lovers and fighters.

"I know, the feds told me about the shooting," Sarah finally said, "And I think that's what makes it so hard. Picturing him as the same monster from before was a lot easier.”

You nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling a deep ache in your chest. "Yeah."

"I don't know what to do," She confessed, her vulnerability cutting through the distance between you. "Part of me wants to see him, to talk to him. And part of me wants to never look at him again."

"I think... whatever you decide, it's okay," You offered tentatively, not entirely sure if your words were comforting or just empty platitudes.

“John B disagrees.”

“Yeah, so does JJ.”

"I appreciate you telling me about Rafe," Sarah continued, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "I... I don't think I could have handled hearing it from anyone else."

Guilt prickled at you. “I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. I wish things were different.”

"We all do," she replied softly. "Thank you.”

“Of course," You said, "Take care of yourself.”

"You too. We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah. See you soon."

You hung up and stared at your phone, the screen going dark. It matched how you felt—empty, lifeless.

You spent the next few days in a haze, avoiding JJ and the rest of your friends as much as possible. You’d only seen Sarah. Somehow her presence didn’t make you feel as nervous as you thought. It weirdly calmed you down. You’d always been close, ever since she joined the group, but now you felt like she was the only one who understood your point of view.

You knew Pope and Kie wouldn’t, and you couldn’t blame them.

Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself.

Your small house felt like a prison. It wasn’t until a week later, as you sat on the beach watching the waves crash against the shore, that your phone buzzed with a message. It was the officer: "Rafe’s awake."

Your heart jumped straight into your throat. You still hadn’t told anyone the full story about what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, you didn’t even know if you ever could. They knew the basics—he was in the hospital, you both got caught in a shooting, and somehow, he’d saved your life. That’s all anyone knew.

But now, with him awake... you were completely lost.

With shaky hands, you fumbled for the phone, dialing the number the officer had given you. It rang a few times, "Hello, this is St. Michael Hospital. How can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm calling to check on a patient, Rafe Cameron. I was told he’s awake."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of keys clicking away. "Yes, Mr. Cameron is awake. Are you a family member?" the nurse asked.

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. "No. Uh, a friend, I guess—" You almost started rambling, but instead, you settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

"Okay, just a minute, please."

You stared at the sand, biting your lip, trying to figure out what you’d even say to him. When the nurse finally came back on, her voice was softer, almost pitiful, and you immediately knew you weren't going to like her answer.

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

Your whole body went numb. You wanted to throw the phone, scream into the void, drown yourself in the ocean and not come up until you didn’t feel anything anymore.

What the hell?

You’d spent weeks thinking about him, on edge, worrying if he was gonna make it, praying for him even though you weren’t even sure you believed in any of that. And now...he didn’t want to speak to you? Unbelievabl, like all of it—every single moment you spent worrying, crying, hoping—it was for nothing. You didn't have it in you to put up a fight.

"No, that's all. Thanks," you mumbled before hanging up.

You stared at your phone, trying to process it. Rafe didn’t want to talk to you. It was like someone ripped the ground from under you. Everything you thought you had shared, everything he did for you, saving your life... Had any of it mattered to him?

Had you just imagined it?

You tried to think back—Rafe had kissed you, touched you like you were precious, like he didn’t want to break you. And that moment when he’d saved you—had that meant nothing to him? Maybe you were just fooling yourself. Maybe, to him, you were just a temporary distraction, someone who didn’t mean anything outside of that life-or-death situation. Just a pogue.

You were just sitting there, staring out at the water, trying not to fall apart. The sun felt too bright, the world too loud, everything too much. The anger, the hurt, the confusion—Before you even realized what you were doing, a scream tore out of you, raw and guttural.

It ripped through the air, echoing across the beach as if it could somehow take away everything inside. Tears came next, hot and salty, and you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to.

Without warning, a scream ripped from your throat, raw and unfiltered. It echoed across the empty beach, a primal release of everything you had been bottling up. You hadn’t cried properly in weeks.

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give. The sun cast long shadows on the sand, the beach deserted except for you. Collapsing back onto the sand, you let the tears flow freely.

There was no one to judge you, no one to see you fall apart. You’d spent a lifetime pulling yourself together, it was only fair you finally got to breathe properly. When the tears subsided, you wiped your face with the back of your hand and took a shuddering breath. The tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by a hollow ache.

You were many things, but none of them were weak and yet...It was almost unbearable, the way your mind replayed every interaction, every look, every word, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that would have warned you not to get attached.

Footsteps crunched in the sand, and you tensed, knowing who it was even before you turned to look. JJ. Of course, it was him. You still weren’t ready to face him after the argument. But he sat down next to you without saying a word, just looking out at the water like you were.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry for what I said about Mom,” he continued, sounding just as broken as you felt, “I shouldn’t have compared you to her. That wasn’t fair.”

You swallowed hard, your throat still aching from the scream. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I get it.”

“I did, and I didn’t,” he admitted. “I just... I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t trust him, and I hate that you’ve been caught up in all this.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

JJ turned to you, frowning, “What do you mean?”

“I called the hospital. They said he’s awake, but he doesn’t want to speak with me.”

You could barely get the words out without choking up.

Your brother frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “That fucking piece of shit. After everything—”

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. ““Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s for the best.”

JJ sighed, softening as he looked at you. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, trying to believe his words. “I just... I thought there was more to it. That maybe he could change.”

“People like Rafe... it’s hard to change.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill again.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wanting to see the good in him.”

He spoke with such gentleness and wisdom. You forgot he wasn’t a kid anymore. That he’d also done his fair share of growing up way too fast.

You leaned into his touch, “I know.”

“We’ll get through this,” JJ said firmly. “Together. You and me, like always.”

You nodded, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the beach, you and JJ sat there in silence. The waves continued to crash against the shore, a reminder that life moved forward, even when it felt like everything was falling apart.

Maybe things would never go back to the way they were, but you had your brother, your friends, and a resilience you didn't know it was capable of existing until then.

Six months had gone by since that day, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Life had somewhat gone back to normal, or at least a version of it. The days were getting hotter, like the summer was showing off, making everything sticky and slow. You’d spent the afternoon alone, sprawled out on the couch with a book you weren’t really reading, barely feeling the breeze from the old fan struggling against the heat.

You were in the middle of rereading the same sentence for the third time when loud banging on the door made you jump. The knock was so aggressive it had to be someone with a serious problem, and the sound jolted you upright.

You groaned, rolling off the couch and heading for the door. "What the—"

Before you could even finish, you yanked the door open, annoyance already building up. And then, just like that, it drained out of you.

“Rafe?”

It was him. Standing there. Looking... well, looking alive, which was more than you expected after months of silence.

You froze, staring at him, and instinct kicked in. You tried to slam the door in his face, but he was quick. His hand caught the edge, holding it open. “Seriously?” you hissed, shoving harder. “Get the hell off my porch.”

"Maybank—"

"If you don't get off my property, I swear to fucking God—"

“Wait—Maybank—just listen.”

“Nope. Get lost. Now.”

“Please.” His voice cracked, and his hand shook where it held the door. “Just give me a minute.”

You glared at him, every instinct telling you to push harder, to shut him out. But something in his eyes—fear, desperation, a flicker of the Rafe you once knew—gave you pause.

The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out and terrifyingly pale. It wasn’t the cocky Rafe you remembered. The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out, barely conscious. And now he was just... here. What the hell was he doing here?

The last update you had on him was from Sarah, months ago. He had left the hospital and kept sporadic contact, reaching out to her only every few weeks. You never asked her about his well-being or what he was doing; despite guessing that he was cooperating with the police.

At least you hoped he was.

You were determined not to care anymore.

He leaned against the doorframe, looking worn out in a way that made you pause for a second too long. “You look good."

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. Was he for real?

You were going to slap the lack of common sense out of him. You weren’t about to let him waltz back in like nothing had happened.

You scoffed, not letting your guard down. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down, trying to find the words as he scratched the back of his head, “I... I needed to see you. To talk.”

“Yeah, no. Get back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

You tried to slam the door again, but he held firm. “Please, just let me explain.”

“You had six months to explain.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was— It’s messed up, okay?" his words coming out rushed and uneven. ”I’m still working with the feds. I was losing it. Still am, probably. But I need to explain. Please, Maybank, just a minute.”

Maybe it was the part of you that used to care, or maybe you just needed answers after everything that had happened. You stepped back, letting the door open just enough for him to walk in.

“Fine. Talk.”

Rafe stepped inside, looking around your small living room as if seeing it for the first time, which you now realized he'd never been in your house. And now that he was standing here, you regretted letting him in.

He turned to face you, his expression earnest. “I didn’t know what to say. I felt—“, He took a deep breath, cheeks puffing, “Ashamed. I don’t know.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, keeping a safe distance between you.

“Ashamed? You’ve done a lot of things to be ashamed of. You can’t just show up after six months and expect everything to be fine.”

“I know,” He admitted, taking a deliberate small step closer to you, “I wasn’t expecting that. I just... I wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I’m in therapy and rehab, trying to get clean. I’ve been going to meetings. It’s been hell, but I’m trying.”

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. He wasn't high.

You eyed him skeptically. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because you’re the only person who ever saw anything good in me. And I can’t forget that. I don’t deserve it, but I need you to know that your faith in me wasn’t for nothing.”

The vulnerability in his voice took you by surprise. You had expected anger, arrogance, manipulation—but this was different. Genuine. It felt like you were back in that motel room, in his arms.

You scoffed, turning away from him. “Is that all? That’s why you showed up here out of nowhere?”

“No, it’s not,” he said, sounding more desperate. “I just—Shit. I need to make things right. With you. I don’t know how, but I need to try.”

You took a deep breath.

You didn’t want to talk to me.”

He winced at that, his guilt obvious. “I was scared, okay? I didn’t know how to handle it. I still don’t. But I’m here now, trying to fix what I broke.”

Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him another chance, but the other part of you—the part that had been hurt and abandoned—was screaming not to fall for it again.

“So you shut me out?” You snapped, “You made me feel like I meant nothing.”

“That’s not true,” He snapped back, head whipping up, then immediately softened his tone, taking another step closer. “That’s not true. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I was getting better for you."

“Don’t lie to me.”

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you, pretty.”

You recoiled at the nickname, taking a step back, needing space.

“Cameron.”

Another step closer. His eyes pleading with you to understand.

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

"I never lied to you," He repeated, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared and confused, but I never lied.”

“Scared and confused? That’s your excuse?”

Rafe flinched at your words, but he didn't back down. “I know how it sounds. I handled it all wrong. I’m trying to fix it.”

“You think saying sorry and showing up out of the blue makes it better?"

His hands reached out, his palms open as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. “I’m not asking for forgiveness right away. I just want a chance to make things right.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You spat, your voice trembling with emotion, “How it felt, watching you almost die. I spent days wondering if you were going to be—”

You stopped yourself, knowing that if you continued your voice would crack and the tears would start pouring down your cheeks.

You already cried enough for him.

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You took a step back, putting more distance between you, needing the space to think clearly. “I needed you to be sorry six months ago.”

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier.

Rafe noticed your eyes wandering to his head and ran a hand through his short hair, a hint of a self-conscious smile flickering across his lips.

“Yeah, I uh, made some changes. Trying to start over, I guess.”

“I’m happy for you, but I can’t do this.”

“Pretty—"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you cut him off, “I feel guilty enough as it is around everyone else.”

“I told Sarah.”

His words hit you like a punch to your gut.

“What?”

“About us.”

You felt your stomach drop and your vision narrow, the world tilting sideways. “You what?”

“I told her.”

“You absolute fucking—” You hissed, your voice rising without warning, “Are you serious?!”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” His tone faltered to one that could’ve fallen on deaf ears if not attentive enough. “I needed someone to talk to, and she’s…my sister.”

You were fuming, pacing the room. “Do you realize what that could do? My life here—everything—could be ruined because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

Rafe flinched, taking a step back. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Of course you didn’t,” You nearly growled, pacing the small living room. “You never think about anyone but yourself, do you?”

“Listen— “ He opened his mouth undoubtedly to fire back with another half-assed apology - but you barreled forward, letting the months of bottled resentment continue to burst open.

“You’re so selfish.”

“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone,” His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, “It’s okay.”

“You really believe that?” You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “This is too much for her to keep to herself. It’ll eat away at her until she tells someone. And when that happens, my life here is over.”

Rafe looked stricken, “I just—I needed someone to understand what I’m going through.”

For the first time, he took the time to explain what was going on in his head instead of letting his frustrations take over and kissing you.

“And what about what I’m going through?” You demanded. “Did you ever stop to think about that? I’ve been trying to move on, to rebuild my life, and you just waltz back in and blow everything up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

You spotted his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely before.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Bitterness began to overpower the pit of your heaving chest, “Sorry doesn’t make it go away. You can’t just undo what you’ve done.”

“I know,” One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare., “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear.”

“Make it right? You can’t make this right, Rafe.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m trying, pretty. I really am.”

You felt a smidge of sympathy despite your anger.

You could see the pain and desperation in his eyes, the same pain and desperation you had felt for the past six months. But that didn’t change the fact that he left you hanging for so long.

“I need you to leave."

You expected him to put up a fight, to lash out, hide his emotions with empty threats and petty names. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to leave. You watched him go in silence.

Part of you wanted to run after him, to give him another chance, to believe that he could change. But another part—the part that had been hurt and left to heal on its own—knew that it wasn’t that simple.

You had to protect yourself, even if it meant shutting him out for good.

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

You blinked, taken aback. "What?"

He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the raw honesty in his eyes. "I don’t regret what happened. Between us. I regret how I handled it, how I hurt you, but I don’t regret feeling something real for once."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the suffocating heat seemed to dissipate, replaced by a cold clarity. You crossed your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold onto your anger, your resolve. But his words had hit a nerve, bringing back memories you’d tried so hard to bury.

You looked away, unable to look at him, "It doesn’t change anything."

"I know.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving you standing there, your heart in pieces all over again. You pushed away from the door, needing something to distract yourself.

You picked up your book, but the words blurred on the page. You tossed it aside, your thoughts too chaotic to focus. Instead, you paced the small living room, replaying the conversation in your mind.

You eventually collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. You did the right thing, so why did it hurt so bad?

You felt like a wound had been reopened, and you hated him for it.

But you hated yourself more for letting him get to you.

The hours dragged on, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows through the windows. You tried to lose yourself in anything—TV, reading, cleaning—nothing worked.

You only saw Rafe's face, his desperate eyes, his trembling hands.

You remembered the feel of his skin, the sound of his voice when he was vulnerable. The memories were too real, too persistent. You couldn't bring yourself to explain it to yourself. Your eyes begin to itch, warning you to think of something else.

Anything else but Rafe.

Was this heartbreak? No—it couldn't be. Why did it still hurt?

You weren't in love with Rafe Cameron.

At least, you didn't think you were.

You had never allowed yourself to consider it, to dwell on what you felt for him. But now, in the stillness of your small living room…it was different. You never had a good parental figure to teach you these things. All you knew was destruction, violence, and heartbreak. And although you’d done pretty well for yourself, all things considered, this was new to you.

You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you.

You were in love with Rafe Cameron.

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rottenaero · 2 years ago

Text

Ao3

Part 1

Part 3

Part two to the roommates idea

Whenever the mall ‘burns down’, Eddie is just chilling at home; not doing anything special.

Actually, thats a complete lie. He hadn't seen Steve since he left for his shift the day before, and currently has his band+Wayne scattered in the living room as he paces.

“He may as well be dead, he always calls before staying the night somewhere, and he totally despises that place, so why would he stay after hours?” He comes to a halt infront of Jeff who looks considering. “What?!"

“Maybe, consider, he just forgot to call you." Eddie scoffed, “ ‘Maybe he just forgot’, except you don't know him, Jeff. Steve doesn't forget, tell ‘em Wayne."

Wayne nods from his spot on the lazyboy, “ ‘S true, he'd rather call at 2am than have us worrying.”

Gareth rolls his eyes, “Look Edmund, I get your worried about you boyfriend and all but why did we have to get dragged into this?" He complained, and Eddie began pacing again.

“ Not,my boyfriend, yet, and you’re getting-”

A ringing interrupts him.

The pacing stopped almost as soon as it began, and he darts to the phone. “ Y’hello, it's Eddie talking.” A sharp breath drew from the other end of the line.

“Hey Eds."

Eddie smiled, “Holy shit, Stevie. I thought you died. Wayne and the guys are literally gathered in the living room.” Upon hearing the name, Wayne visibly relaxed, going from hunched over to leaning backwards in seconds.

“Yeah I'm- Well shit not okay but I'm not dead.”In the background there was a noise, barely noticeable but-

“Wait, what? Are those sirens? Are you hurt? What the hell-” Wayne leaned forward again.

“I'm at the mall, there's been, uh, an accident? I don't- they took my keys, I need a ride back home.”

“Who took your keys? Steve you can't just be all ominous and-” The phone line shut off. "Fuck!”

Grant, who hasn't been helpful at all, stood up. "What did he do?”

Eddie groans, running a hand through his greasy hair, “Needs us to pick him up, might be hurt. He's such a- Wayne we're taking my van, you guys coming?”

Turns out the answer is yes.

They arrive at the mall five minutes later, mostly because Eddie was driving like a bat outta hell, to every emergency vehicle you can think of, plus thirty more, surrounding the place.

Eddie roles his window down when a cop signals him. “What are you doing over here?"

The metalhead bites his lip, what the hell, “Uh, I'm here to pick up Steve Harrington? He got involved in whatever's happening.”

The cops nods, "Alright, park your vehicle over there, and go get him.”

He does as he's told, a surprising feat showing just how scared he was, because Steve being hurt could mean so many things.

They get out the car, Wayne being the leading man, and head to where the commotion is.

The mall was totally destroyed, a couple kids he didn't know were sitting around, surrounded by their parents, there's a couple teens too, Nancy Wheeler, Johnny Byers, a girl in a sailor costume, and-

Eddie’s heart stopped and he fucking sped forward. “ Holy shit, what the fuck man." Steve looked like hell, understatement of the century but-

His face was bruised and bloody, his hands wrapped in casts, his hair was flat and gross and he was still in his damn sailor costume.

“Hey Munsons, Gareth, Jeff, Grant. It's the whole Scooby gang, or Smurfs, whoever you prefer.” Eddie grabbed his shoulders, and stared him dead in the eye. “ What. The. Fuck. Are you high too?!”

“Just what the hell did you get yourself into. " Wayne said more than asked, shaking his head.

Steve buzzed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and he brought a hand to them and-

God they were split, and bleeding now. He looked back up at the long haired man infront of him, ignoring Wayne's question-not-question.

“Nah, just recovering from being drugged. Hey this is rivveting conversation and shit, but like, I wanna go home and sleep in your bed, man. Or the couch, or the floor.”

He let out a loud laugh, “Fuck I am not picky right now, I'll even take the back of the van.”

“Christ."

They don't talk about it, not after Hellfire goes home, not the next morning, not after Steve heals. They just don't, because the news told them all they need to know, that there was a fire. Eddie just assumed when they said he was drugged, that he meant medically.

(He didn't)

#stranger Things #steddie ficlet #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #and they were roommates #oh my god they were roommates #crisisinverted17 #crisisinverted17's roommate au

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luveline · 6 months ago

Note

Hi I have a request for zombie Steve! I’d love to hear the story of how they met 🫶🏻

zombie!au —You rescue Steve at the start of the end of the world. fem, 2.4k

The sound of them makes your throat close up. Fear like a knife held too tight in unwilling hands, the heat. It’s the hottest summer Hawkins’ has had for years, and you’re overdressed. You couldn’t fit your favourite hoodie in your bag so you wore it but it doesn’t matter, you lost your bag somewhere in the school gymnasium. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your leg when that thing grabbed you. What were they calling them on the radio? Something starting with G.

Those… things, they can kill people. You saw it just ten minutes ago, your algebra teacher turned to a creature, Maisie Lewinsky from your homeroom stained with gore under her hands.

You press the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle a hot gasp. What are you supposed to do now? The Hawkins station said everyone would be waiting here, a repeat radio message, but by the time you heard it the sun was going down and there was nobody left. No cars, no promised convoy, nobody.

You’re the last living girl left in Hawkins.

You’re gonna die in here.

Terrified of breathing to loud but spooked that staying will seal your fate, you lift yourself up from the floor of the science lab to peer over a high table. There’s no signs of life. No signs of the dead, either. You’d thought this might be a good place to hide, the thick fire door unbreakable, but you can’t stay here. It’ll be dark soon.

You wish you had your stuff. They’ve for sure taken anything worth eating from the cafeteria kitchens and Bradley’s has been empty for days. You aren’t sure where your next meal is coming from. Fuck, you’re already dead—

“Fuck!” a voice echoes, boyish and terrified from somewhere outside of the door. “Fuck! Get the fuck away from me, holy shit!”

He sounds scared but firm at the same time. Your own fear is like the insufferable heat, riding the back of your neck as you creep toward the door. There’s gotta be more of them outside. That must be why whoever it is that’s shouting sounds so depeserate. But fuck, there’s relief too. There’s someone still here.

“Fuck! Jesus, help me!”

“Okay,” you say unsurely.

You wedge open the door to the science lab and poke your head out cautiously. There’s a dull thudding sound somewhere to the left, metallic screeching further down, but the panicked shouting (and now panicked yelping) is coming from outside.

You look around for a weapon. There’s nothing to take.

“Holy fuck I do not wanna die!”

Me neither, you think, sniffling back your worried tears. You don’t wanna die, you just want your bed. You want to be home, and safe, but there’s no one to look after you anymore, and you can’t just let people die ‘cos you’re scared. You run from the science lab to the fire escape door full pelt, arm in sudden hot pain at the collision, but the door gives and swings hard into the adjourning wall. You look around frantically for the source of the shouting as it bounces off of the exterior walls of the school and the stone floor of the courtyard, heart suddenly afloat in your chest.

“Hello?” you shout. “I’m here, I’m–”

“What the fuck!”

It’s said with such horrified anger that you give pause, even as your hands shake, cold sweat wetting your lip and colder in the rare afternoon breeze. You dart toward the shouting a moment later, and maybe you’re too late, you can’t save anybody, your shoes pinch as you race down the few concrete steps that lead to the parking lot.

Snarling curdles the air. Your neck snaps left, away from the cars and open territory and toward the subject of your nightmares these last few days. You’ve seen glimpses of these things, always too scared to stay and help, always too stupid, too weak, and seeing them now cements it.

A group of geeks grab at a boy where he hangs from the bars of a metal staircase leading up to the roof of the building. You run toward it on instinct but stop before they hear you, eyes wide. His hands are white-knuckled, his hair falling down into his face, but you know who it is now you’re close enough to see him. You could recognise Steve Harrington a thousand feet away.

“Hey!” you shout. “Hey! Over here!”

Why did you say that? Why are you yelling? The geeks turn their heads to easier pray and you’re done for —they start to run. You stumble back in terror.

“My bag! Get my bag, get the knife!” Steve shouts.

You swing yourself around in a huge circle. There, further into the lot, lies a bag. Further past it lies a wooden baseball bat spiked with fifty silver nails.

You sprint past the bag to the bat and try to grab it while you’re still running, knees grazing hot white fire on the tarmac and hands like acid as you force yourself up again, running further, putting space between you and the too fast footsteps that follow. When you’re sure you’ll have room you swing to see them, their maws dripping gore over white buttoned shirts and once prim blouses. There must be ten of them at least. Only two stay to snap their jaws at Steve Harrington where he attempts to climb up the stairs from the bottom, his foot dangerously close to bloodied teeth.

You pull the bat back as the first of the creatures reaches you. With a grunt more terror than exertion, you force the bat forward, wood arcing through the air, shiny nails catching the light of the setting sun and slamming downward into flesh.

Your eyes flare as wide as they’ve ever been. The geek stops cold and drops, your strangling grip on the bat forcing it up out of the mash of his brains. Another geek leaps over him as you scramble back.

“Run!” Steve yells from the stairs, stress stretching his voice thin and high. “Run away!”

You drop the bat and sprint for your life. Down into the parking lot, past a handful of locked cars and suitcases discarded. This must’ve been where everybody was before they left. There couldn’t have been room. Boxes and trophies, books, magazines and toys, all manner of possessions string like a breadcrumb trail down the road that you have to avoid. You run until your calves are burning over the road that will lead toward Hawkins middle, where you throw yourself into the woods, and hope without any real hope that they’re empty.

Grass folds under your feet. Your panting is as loud as your heart.

When the only shallow breathing you can hear is your own, you circle back to the High School, sticking to the shadows so as not to attract any more attention. A few geeks have collected to join the two you’d left behind, and for a second you’re sure Steve’s succumbed to fatigue and fallen into their blackened clutches, but you spot him balancing dangerously on a handrail between two sets of stairs, leg pulled back in preparation to kick any opposition away.

You sweep up the bat and try to make a plan. You were never going to be able to handle that many people before, not with their new mutations, but you can handle four. Maybe. Probably not.

“Steve, what do I do?” you call. “You have to tell me what to do.”

“You came back!” He swears and shimmies further up the railing as one of his attackers finally manages to traverse the blocked up staircase. “I don’t know what to do! Just hit at them until they die!”

It’s easy for him to say. They’re gruesome creatures, the faces of people you once knew but none of their humanity. They can run as fast as any person can. A human bite has alarming force behind it. The voice on the radio warned you that what you’re trying to do is a bad idea, and yet. You roll the bat in your hand. Your chest aches as hard as your dry throat.

The first geek goes down easy. Unsuspecting, you manage to whack it in the back of the head hard and break through soft skull. The second turns to see you just as you’re lifting the bat again, and it runs hard into it as it comes down, killing itself.

The third is where things get tricky.

“Fuck,” you mumble, lifting your bat to find a sloughing of cartilage and tissue stuck between the spines. “Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“Be careful!” Steve shouts.

You step back and trip, nearly falling. “Stay away from me!”

It snarls in response. Eyes clouded, the geek is a little slower than the others, and it follows you sluggishly away from Steve. The fourth remains, snapping, but you can’t keep watch.

“Stay away from me!” you warn again.

Steve swears on the railing, his cursing followed by a wet thunk.

The geek doesn’t listen, it bites.

You pull your arms to the side, hands wrapped tight around the base of the bat and ready to swing. With a huge, aching cry, you swing the bat to the side and knock the nails clean into its cheek.

It doesn’t die.

Fuck fuck fuck! You throw yourself to the floor by the geek’s feet and out of its reach, on knees, on your feet again, scrambling toward Steve’s bag. You glance over your shoulder as your knees slam down hard into the floor, never so scared in your life, horrified as the bat stays stuck between tendons and the geek takes a running jump toward you.

You pull the knife from Steve’s bag and hold it out in front of you, squeezing your eyes closed in terror.

“Fuck, hey!”

You scream as the weight of the geek lands on top of you. You scream like it’s taking bites of you, until your throat burns and there’s no sound left to make and you choke on it instead. A short, sharp sound.

Then the weight is pulled off of you. Someone lets out a massive gasp.

“Did it get you?”

You blink your eyes open against the glaring white sun where it meets the horizon. If you’re crying, it’s your business, water on your cheek and a dizzy hot feeling everywhere else.

Steve Harrington looks at you like you’re a ghost. “Did it get you? Are you okay?”

You look at your hand and the knife —his knife— where it rests on the tarmac. “I don’t think so. How do you know?”

“They bite! Did it bite you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Because I’m not exactly uninjured, Steve!”

He frowns at you. Well, he glares. “You’d know if it bit you. Don’t be dense.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re telling me you don’t know what a bite feels like?”

“Some of us had homework.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Well, yeah. It was supposed to be hilarious.

You look around the parking lot and the school courtyard for any outliers, but the school seems well and truly abandoned now. You can’t hear anymore huffing or screeching, no crying, not even the sound of a radio. Everyone’s been playing them nonstop for weeks, waiting for days like today. Suddenly the raptures here, and you aren’t part of the rescue.

But you saved Steve Harrington, at least. You’re accruing some good karma.

Steve doesn’t hold his hand out, he just grabs you under the arms and pulls you up into a standing position. You’re surprised he can do it, you aren’t light, but you remember his last skins game in the gymnasium and nod to yourself. Of course he can pick you up. Plus, you help, using your legs despite their stiffness to brace yourself on the ground.

“Doesn’t look like it bit you,” he says, quieter now, his hands sliding down to yours briefly before he stands back. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought this was the rendezvous point. I mean, it was, right? We missed it.”

“We missed it.”

“How’d you get here?” you ask.

“Bike. Car chose the worst possible time in the world to die. Not that I could’ve got gas.” He eyes you hopefully. “Tell me you drove here.”

“I biked too, but it’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Tire popped.”

Steve rubs his eyebrows. His hands are clean where yours are caked. You stand unable to mask your heavy breathing now, and when you reach for him to steady yourself, he doesn’t move away.

“Sorry,” you mumble, licking your lips. You’re a map of little pains. “Are you okay?”

Steve’s hand reaches back to cover yours like he’s going to pull it off, though he doesn’t. “Are you alone?” he asks.

You wince. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“I lost it.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” Your knees hurt. “It’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s a question. You’re immediately thankful to have found him, because he’s a real living person, and you don’t think you can do this alone. You don’t mean to force him, but you need to know what he’s doing and soon.

“…Better come with me, then,” he says finally.

Steve walks out of your grasp, grabbing up his bag which you’d unfortunately ripped open and shoving the spilled contents back inside. He doesn’t stop to zip it closed, walking straight in the direction of the school.

“Where are we going?”

“Same place as everybody else.” You stumble. Steve, reluctant, frowning hard enough to etch a new wrinkle, holds out his hand to catch you by the elbow. “Where did you think?” he asks.

��I don’t know,” you say, half-indignant.

“You ask a lot of stupid questions, you know that?” He looks you up and down. “How’d you do that?” He points at your bleeding knees.

“I ask stupid questions?”

He grabs the bat from near the felled geek and stands tall. “Jesus. Let’s go find a car.”

It’s not as easy as his tone might suggest. You don’t find a car, you never do, and you never stop asking him obvious questions, but Steve says thank you for saving him eventually (nearly an entire year later, with a hand on your cheek).

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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marvelwinchester67 · 9 months ago

Text

I’m gonna need 5-10 business days to recover from the Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale.

Hazbin Hotel episode 7 and 8 spoilers (because I’m going feral) and my thoughts/unhinged feelings about it because no one else can understand quite like tumblr can

Read at your own risk

What. The. Fuck. Guys.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!

IT WAS NIFFTY WHO KILLED ADAM?!

AND SIR PENTIOUS?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IM NOT OKAY BUT IM GLAD HE IS

Lucifer “now I’m gonna fuck you” Morningstar everyone (plz I love him so much)

So Carmilla knew who Vaggie really was and just, didn’t give a shit? Love her for that

I love Rosie. Her design, her personality, she’s amazing. She was so sweet to Charlie when she didn’t have to be and actually listened to her and encouraged her (points for the relationship advice)

So Alastor is on someone’s leash and he’s trying to wiggle his way out of it, the Vees are plotting (of course they are), and LUTE KNOWS LILITH?! THEY MADE SOME KIND OF DEAL?!

I’m so so curious about how Lute and Lilith know each other and why Lute would want her to deal with her daughter

But this implies that Adam had a previous deal with Lilith regarding something we don’t know yet, since Lute said she was in charge now that he was dead and that their deal pertained to her now

ALSO?! You’re telling me that’s what Adam looked like under his mask?! (I still loathe him but lowkey he was hot I’ll be honest right now)

Sir Pentious telling Cherri he loved her was so sweet

I soaked up every single scrap of Huskerdust I could within those last two episodes they own my soul and I’m so excited to see more of them in season 2

So it looks like Vox thinks Alastor is missing again which is why he’s plotting with the other Vees, but Alastor showed back up at the hotel during repairs so that might not last long

Alastor’s fight with Adam was so good holy shit omfg plz give me more of Alastor’s powers that shield was so cool and his verse in that final song gave me chills like, oh my god he was so mad and I’m here for it

And Lucifer showing up and telling Charlie she changed his heart and mind about the sinners? He is so precious plz protect this duck loving man at all costs

Charlie and Vaggie’s More Than Anything Reprise? Please I am sobbing they love each other so much it hurts

To top it all off- Alastor having beef with literally everyone will never not be funny. Fucking Susan? Are you kidding me. I was laughing so hard. Rosie seems like she deals with Susan a lot and Alastor calling her an Ornery Bitch was so fucking funny for no reason.

Everyone has beef with Susan now.

There is so much I have to say about this show and I could literally talk about it for years but for now I will be repeatedly listening to the soundtrack and impatiently waiting for season 2 because I no longer have the will to live after I sobbed on my bedroom floor over this show. VIVIENNE I AM IN YOUR WALLS-

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #Hazbin hotel spoilers #vivziepop #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #sir pentious #Cherri bomb #Cherri and sir pentious #husk x angel dust #charlie x vaggie #charlie morningstar

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steveseddie · 7 months ago

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go for it

steddie | rating: t | cw: none | wc: 4,6k | tags: eddie and steve have a crush, they finally do something about it, the hellfire club is there whoops, first kiss, getting together

for my stficbingo: “This is a dictatorship and I’m in charge!”

click here to read on ao3

***

“You drag yourselves out of the tunnels and find what seems to be a friendly tavern in the woods,” Eddie narrates in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over everyone sitting at the Harrington dining table. They’re all at the edge of their seats, collectively holding their breath, looking suitably daunted yet excited as they brace themselves for some other twist in the story. “The innkeeper welcomes you with warm food and offers you a place to stay. She assures you that you’re safe.”

He pauses for dramatic effect. Watches as Henderson bites his knuckles, Wheeler squeezes his eyes shut, Jeff covers his face with his hands-

“Tonight you get to rest,” he finishes with a flourish of his hand and the party sighs in relief.

“Thank God!” Gareth says, slumping back on his chair and wiping his brow where beads of sweat started gathering during the final moments of the campaign. “I thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“Holy shit, me too,” Sinclair agrees, shaking his head in disbelief. He’d been one bad die roll away from dying by the time they finally defeated the goblins that attacked them out of nowhere. “That was brutal!”

“It was fucking awesome!” Henderson says with a squeaky laugh and everyone around the table heartily agrees.

Eddie grins widely, resting his chin on one hand and doing a flourish with the other one in lieu of a bow. “Glad it pleased you, Master Nog.”

The kid flashes him a toothy smile and then he and the rest of the party start discussing tonight’s campaign- the best moments, the ones where they thought they would all die, their predictions for what will happen next week.

They’re so caught up in their conversation that they don’t notice when Eddie slips away from the table.

The Harrington house is easy to get lost in, bigger than any house Eddie has ever been to. Even after weeks of being friends with Steve and coming over for movie nights and pool parties, Eddie isn’t sure he’s seen all of it. He knows there’s a third garage somewhere and he’s only been to one of the three guest bedrooms and that was back on the first night he slept over.

(Since then, he and Steve realized that they sleep better when they have company and Eddie never saw the inside of that or any of the other guest rooms again, sharing Steve’s bed with him whenever he spends the night instead.)

Eddie has been to Harrington kitchen plenty of times though, so he makes his way there easily.

As he gets further away from his friends and their noise, Eddie’s ears pick up on the music coming from the Harrington kitchen, which further guides him in the right direction. He belatedly recognizes the song as part of the mixtape he made for Steve a couple of days ago in an attempt to improve his music taste. When he gave it to him, Steve eyed it warily (“It’s real music, Stevie, not a rabid animal, it won’t bite you!”) before shoving it into his car’s glove compartment. He didn’t bring it up since then and Eddie assumed he forgot about it. Knowing that Steve didn’t forget and he’s actually listening to it now fills Eddie’s stomach with butterflies.

Those butterflies flutter pathetically when he finally reaches the kitchen and finds Steve doing the dishes.

He’s standing in front of the sink, his hips moving with the music (not heavy metal but some soft rock that Eddie thought might be more Steve’s style while still being cool) and there’s a flowery apron tied around his waist which matches the rubber gloves he’s wearing. Both were a gag gift from the kids, Steve told Eddie the first time he saw him wearing them, one that actually turned out to be quite useful and now he wears them often.

For a moment, Eddie lingers at the kitchen doorway, giving himself a few seconds to stare at Steve, filing away how he looks for later when he’s daydreaming embarrassingly domestic fantasies of a life with Steve. Then he raps his knuckles twice on the door frame to get his attention.

(Eddie knows better than to sneak up on him now. The one time he did Steve had him pinned against a wall before Eddie could even realize what was happening. He thought it was hot more than anything, but Steve had been mortified. He spent the rest of the night apologizing and acting like a kicked puppy around him. He didn’t relax until Eddie reminded him that the first time they met, Eddie did the same thing, only he also held a broken bottle to Steve’s throat. So now they were more than even.)

Steve’s head whips around at the sound and his face lights up when he sees Eddie leaning against the door frame.

“Hey!” Steve says, grinning like he’s delighted to see Eddie. Like he missed him, like he didn’t see him less than forty minutes ago when they all took a break to have dinner. “You finished early tonight.”

Glancing at the clock on top of the fridge, Eddie realizes that Steve is right. “I figured they had enough for one night,” Eddie says, stepping into the kitchen and joining Steve by the sink. “Usually the brats would throw a fit, but I think they were actually glad this time.”

“That bad?” Steve asks with a snort.

“Wheeler rolled four nat ones in a row, Steve, four!” Eddie says, dancing in and out of Steve’s space until Steve hip-checks him out of the way with a chuckle.

“Four, huh?”

“Mhm, the odds weren’t in their favor tonight.”

“Well, it was nice of you to let them off the hook for once, Mr. Dungeon Master,” Steve says, crinkly eyes meeting Eddie’s momentarily before looking down at the sink and picking up another plate.

“I’m always nice, Stevie,” Eddie says, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

Steve gives him a bitchy face. “Dude, I’m pretty sure I heard you threaten to chop off Dougie’s hand.”

“That was the goblin, not me!” Eddie protests, wagging his finger in front of Steve’s face. “Who Jeff killed shortly after, so who’s the one that isn’t nice here?”

“Right,” Steve deadpans. He takes off the rubber gloves after rinsing the last plate and picks up a dish towel to start drying. “You can always get your revenge next week I guess.”

“Oh I will, Stevie. I will,” he says, grinning manically. Oh the things he has planned. Eddie hops on top of the counter, right next to where Steve stands as he dries plates and glasses and everything else he used to make the most delicious lasagna for the party. His feet dangle from the counter and he lightly nudges Steve with one. “Hey, thanks for letting us play here. And for dinner.”

“You know you don’t have to thank me every time, right Eds?” Steve says with an exaggerated sigh, but his annoyance is downplayed by his playful smile. The lopsided one that makes Eddie want to kiss him stupid.

After Spring Break, Principal Higgins was quick to shut down Hellfire once and for all, leaving the party with no place to hold their campaigns. Eddie wasn’t surprised but like everyone else, he was pretty fucking bummed about it. No one in their party had enough space at their house to host their campaigns, and the only two that did, Wheeler and Sinclair, failed to convince their parents to let them use their basement for their alleged satanic cult gatherings.

But just when they thought their club was done for, Steve swooped in like the knight in shining armor that he is and offered up his house, which is why for the last couple of weeks they’ve been gathering at the Harrington residence where Steve not only hosts their campaigns and puts up with the noise and the mess they leave behind, but he also cooks or buys them dinner every week and makes sure to stock up his fridge with each of their favorite drinks, even indulging in Gareth’s weird obsession with Bubble Up soda because he is unreal and the nicest fucking guy Eddie knows.

So Eddie can’t not thank him every time. Contrary to what people might believe, he has manners. He also likes the pretty pink flush that covers Steve’s cheeks whenever he does it.

“Hm, I think I do,” he says, nudging Steve’s leg again. “Hellfire would be over if it wasn’t for you, sweetheart.”

“And what a tragedy that would be,” Steve jokes but aha! There it is- that pretty pink blush.

“Hey! I know for a fact that you don’t hate it as much as you pretend to,” Eddie says, shaking his finger in a reproachful manner. “You sat through the whole session last time and didn’t even yawn once!”

Last week, Dustin begged and pleaded so that Steve would sit and watch their campaign instead of retreating to the kitchen or his bedroom. Steve held his ground admirably until Eddie joined in on Dustin’s pleas, batting his eyelashes and pouting exaggeratedly until he caved, sighing in defeat and sitting down next to Eddie. He didn’t expect Steve to make it through the whole thing, but he did and while he did look a little confused at times and complained that there was way too much math involved, he also seemed to actually enjoy himself.

Steve shifts from one foot to the other and bites his lip. “Yeah, I guess, but that’s because I was watching you the whole time,” he shyly says.

Eddie blinks. “Me?” He remembers Steve’s eyes on him while he led the campaign, but he didn’t think much of it then. But now Steve’s shy admission that he enjoyed himself because he was watching Eddie makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Flushing deeper, Steve keeps his eyes on the glass that he’s drying, not meeting Eddie’s gaze as he says, “Yeah, you, uh. You’re very good at doing those voices and you know, drawing people into your stories. It’s, um, fascinating.”

Fascinating. No one’s ever used that word to describe Eddie before. He can’t help the way his breath catches when Steve Harrington of all people calls him that.

“Oh. Well, thanks,” he stammers out, feeling his own cheeks match Steve’s flush. “And here I thought you were going to say I’m just pretty to look at,” he adds with a slightly shaky laugh.

And that’s what he expects Steve to do- laugh it off. Instead, he finally meets Eddie’s eyes and says, “Well, that too.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. Holy shit.

Steve does laugh then but not because it was a joke. He laughs at Eddie’s reaction which consists of him gaping like a fish because Steve Harrington just called him fascinating and pretty.

And it’s not that Steve hasn’t given him compliments before or hasn’t flirted with him before. He plays along most of the time- sometimes with a playful smirk and sometimes with that baffled puppy look that Eddie saw for the first time after calling him “big boy”.

The thing is he’s never flirted like this- shyly, without a hint of a joke. And it’s-

Well, it’s a lot.

But if Eddie learned anything after Spring Break is to roll with whatever the universe throws at him, which in this case isn’t an army of hell bats or an apocalypse, but Steve Harrington finally, maybe, possibly making a move. Something that Eddie has been waiting for after weeks of the two of them dancing around each other.

He couldn’t see it at first, or rather he refused to, afraid to get his hopes up only for his heart to break when he turned out to be wrong. But there are things that not even his cynical eyes can ignore. The way Steve gravitates towards Eddie in any group setting or the way Eddie catches him staring when he thinks he isn’t looking like last week when they went swimming at the quarry and Eddie took off his shirt or like two weeks ago when Eddie tied his hair up to keep it off his face while he played his guitar. Or the way Steve’s eyes seem to dart to Eddie’s lips constantly when he talks and the way he can’t go more than a day without seeing him before he’s knocking on Eddie’s door to spend time with him.

It would be slightly easier to ignore all of this if it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie acts the same way when it comes to Steve. And Eddie is halfway in love with the guy, so. It makes him wonder.

But despite all of this, Eddie still hasn’t made a move. Steve either. Until now maybe.

Eddie clears his throat, finally finding his words. “Well, as entertaining as it must’ve been to watch me.” He grins. “You’ll have more fun if you actually play with us. Maybe next time I can finally convince you to join.”

Hazel eyes narrow at him. “If I play, will you threaten to cut off my hand too?”

“Nah, I promise to go easy on you since it’s your first time.” He winks and Steve’s eyes widen, the blush from before making a wonderful return.

“I- I haven’t said yes-”

“Yet.”

Steve huffs. “What makes you so sure that you can convince me?” He asks with an arched eyebrow. “The kids have tried and failed and you know how relentless they are.”

“Yeah, but I can be very persuasive.” He gestures at himself with a hand flourish. “You know, as a cult leader and all.”

Steve hums. “Of course.” He leans his hip against the counter, only an inch away from Eddie’s thigh.

“There’s gotta be something I can do to convince you,” Eddie says, moving his thigh until it touches Steve’s hip. “Something I can give you in exchange. To make it worth your while.”

Steve’s eyes immediately dart down to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s stomach swoops. There it is.

“You’re right,” Steve says, and in one quick movement, he pushes himself away from the counter and moves to stand between Eddie’s legs. Holy fuck. “There’s one thing.”

Anticipation bubbles up in Eddie’s stomach. “Yeah? What- what is it?” He asks with a suddenly dry throat.

Steve ducks his head, glancing at Eddie through his eyelashes. “A kiss from the Dungeon Master?” He asks in a shy whisper.

Eddie stares at him for a second, lips parted in surprise because goddamn shitting fuck. Then-

“Not the goblin?” He asks in his stupid goblin voice. Like a fucking loser.

As soon as he blurts it out he slaps a hand against his face. “Fucking Christ, I can’t believe I just did that. That was so lame. I’m just fucking nervous, sorry.”

Steve wraps his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, lowering his hand. His eyes are sparkling with fondness. “Don’t be, it’s cute,” he says with a soft chuckle.

A nearly hysterical giggle bubbles up in Eddie’s throat but it abruptly cuts off when Steve places his hands on Eddie’s thigh and leans in.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna give me that kiss or what?” Steve asks oh so sweetly.

And Eddie doesn’t waste a moment after that, he finally goes for it. He cups Steve’s cheeks and tugs his face closer, pressing their mouths together, feeling his chest explode with warmth as he thinks finally and pinch me and holy fucking shit.

The kiss is sweet and slow. It starts a little tentative, just lips slotting together, Steve’s bottom lip fitting perfectly between Eddie’s. But then something shifts- Steve’s hands settle on Eddie’s waist, his thumbs digging into his hip bones while Eddie’s fingers find their way to Steve’s hair, scratching at his scalp, tangling with the soft strands, tugging on them. The last one makes Steve’s mouth fall open in a gasp, just enough for Eddie to press in, catching Steve’s lower lip between his teeth and biting down hard enough to earn himself a small whine. Then he lets it go, easing his tongue across Steve’s lip and licking into his mouth.

He loses track of anything else that happens when Steve’s own tongue licks into his mouth in return.

After a while the kiss softens again, turning into something slow and tender until it comes to a natural stop, once they can’t ignore the need to breathe anymore.

Steve pulls back but Eddie doesn’t let him go far, keeping a firm hold on the lapels of his dorky polo shirt. “Definitely worth my while but-”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “But?”

“But,” Steve says, his red, wet, well-kissed lips stretching into a wicked grin. “I think I’m gonna need more convincing.”

Eddie grins back. “Oh, I think that can be arranged.”

He tugs Steve closer again and he comes willingly, sighing happily when their lips slot together once more. God, Eddie is so fucked. They’ve kissed once and he’s already addicted to kissing Steve. He’s convinced that he could stay like this forever, lazily making out with him on his kitchen counter, tongues exploring, hands wandering.

And he probably would’ve- if a shrill voice didn’t make them jump apart.

“What the hell is going on here!” Dustin yells.

Steve whirls around so fast he almost faceplants on his kitchen floor and Eddie jumps back and hits his head against one of the upper cupboards.

He lets out a string of creative curses as he rubs the back of his head, seeing black spots when he opens his eyes. Despite those, he can still see the whole party standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at them with expressions ranging from utter shock (Sinclair and Henderson) to disgust (Wheeler) to smugness (Jeff, Gareth, Dougie, and weirdly enough, Erica).

“Uh,” Steve says dumbly as he tries to find his words, but there’s no lying their way out of this one and they both know it. They were just caught with their tongues down each other’s throats and Eddie’s hands on Steve’s ass.

“Well?” Dustin prompts in a bitchy tone.

“I was, uh, convincing Steve to join D&D next week,” Eddie says, which is, technically, the truth.

Gareth snorts, raising an eyebrow. “With your tongue?”

Eddie gives a gleeful laugh. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Eddie,” Steve hisses, flushing to the tips of his ears.

“That’s gross!” Wheeler cries, his face scrunching up which is rich coming from him, Eddie thinks, considering he saw him sucking face with El more times than he would’ve liked in the short time she was in Hawkins after everything. So he knows Wheeler has nothing against kissing and it makes him wonder if he might have something against Eddie kissing a boy, or boys kissing boys in general and Eddie loves the kid, he loves all of them but he will sit him down for some tough love if he happens to not be okay with-

There’s a slapping sound as Erica smacks him upside the head.

“Ouch!”

“Not cool, butthead,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Wheeler. “Boys can kiss boys too.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth tugs up in a smile. Just like that, she’s currently his favorite.

“What?” Wheeler asks, rubbing the back of his head. “I know that. I don’t care that Eddie wants to kiss guys, I care that he wants to kiss Steve!”

“Hey!” Steve protests with an affronted frown.

“Eddie is cool and Steve is so lame! And he’s my sister’s ex!” He says with extra snark.

Eddie can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. Steve’s head snaps in his direction, his offended expression now directed at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he says between giggles. He clears his throat and gives Wheeler a stern face. It’s a much different scolding than the one he thought he would be giving him just a few moments ago and he’s grateful for that. “Steve isn’t lame. Yes, his music taste is shit and he owns more polo shirts than an 80-year-old-”

“Dude, are you defending me or helping Mike insult me?” Steve mumbles with a pout.

“But!” Eddie says, ignoring him. “He’s also badass and he’s saved your sorry asses multiple times and he’s nice enough to let you pipsqueaks eat his food and trash his house every week and he’s hot as fuck, so. Show some respect, Wheeler.”

Mike’s face scrunches up. “What does Steve being hot have to do with anything? Ew!”

But before Eddie can reply to that, Dustin takes a step forward, looking between the two. “So this is a thing now? Are you guys a thing?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at them.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look, both of them trying to communicate the same thing- do you want to be a thing? Steve gives him a sheepish smile and a nod, and in response, Eddie wraps his arms and legs around him, essentially hanging off of Steve’s back like a koala and trapping him against the counter. “Yes, Henderson. We are, as you so eloquently put it, a thing.”

Eddie expects more outrage, but Dustin nods solemnly. “Okay, cool. Just- no flirting at the D&D table. And no kissing!” There are nods and noises of agreement from the rest of the party.

Eddie lets out an indignant squeak. “Excuse me, this is a dictatorship and I’m in charge! And the Dungeon Master decides that there will be kissing, butthead,” he announces, and then to prove a point, he smacks a sloppy kiss against Steve’s cheek.

There’s a lot of groaning and whining and fake-gagging.

“Dude, it’s like watching my parents kiss,” Sinclair says and Henderson nods, rubbing at his eyes like it physically hurt him to see Eddie kiss Steve.

Eddie rolls his eyes- and they call him dramatic.

“Fine, fine, no kissing,” he says and sees Steve pout out of the corner of his eye. “But I won’t be deprived of the joy of flirting with one Sir Stephen.”

Steve leans back against Eddie’s chest, twisting his neck to arch an eyebrow at him. “Sir Stephen?”

“I’ve been working on your character sheet for weeks,” Eddie says with a grin. And it’s true, he had the feeling that he would be able to convince Steve to play and he wanted to be ready. If he’d known a kiss was all it took to do it, he would’ve done it much sooner.

“That’s presumptuous of you,” Steve mumbles, but there’s a smile teasing at his lips. Eddie shrugs, nuzzling his face against Steve’s shoulder.

“Fine!” Dustin groans, reminding Eddie that he and Steve aren’t alone. “As long as you stay in character.”

Eddie grins wickedly, already looking forward to flirting with Steve through all his characters, even the goblin.

“Anyway,” Jeff says, clapping his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “We were on our way out. We would offer to take the kiddos home, but Dougie’s piece of shit car won’t fit them all.” Dougie protests with a “Hey!” that they all ignore.

Usually, Eddie doesn’t mind driving the kids around, but right now, a part of him does wish that he could stay a little longer with Steve. The other part can’t wait to get home so he can scream into a pillow.

“Nah, I got it. Gentleman, lady, grab your things, we’ll head out in a second,” he says, making shooing motions with his hands.

Sinclair rolls his eyes. “He just wants more time to make out with Steve,” he mutters as they all start to pile out of the kitchen.

“Correct, Sinclair!”

He and Wheeler make gagging noises, earning a shove from Erica as she follows them. Yeah, she’s definitely his favorite.

Henderson lingers on the doorway.

“Any other rules you wish to impose on us, Master Nog?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

Dustin shakes his head, curls bouncing. “No, I’m just- I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

Eddie blinks. “Oh,” he exhales softly, touched by the kid’s words.

“Thanks, Henderson,” Steve says, and he sounds touched too.

“Yeah, thanks, kid.”

“And I love you both, but if you get divorced, I will pick sides.” And with one final narrow-eyed look, he turns on his heels and leaves.

“Which side?” Eddie asks, but the little shit pretends he doesn’t hear him. “Henderson! Which side?” His shoulders slump. “Brat.”

“Too bad we’re never gonna find out,” Steve says, turning around to face Eddie without dislodging his arms or legs that are still wrapped around him.

Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest. “Never? That’s presumptuous of you,” he says, echoing his words from before.

Steve shrugs. “I just know I don’t plan to break up with you- or divorce you like the kid said.”

Oh yeah, Eddie definitely needs a pillow to scream into right about now. “Um, yeah, me neither, so I guess we’re stuck together.”

Steve nods with a dopey smile. “And we’ll never know who Dustin would’ve picked.”

There’s a short silence.

Then, “He would’ve picked me,” they both say at the same time.

Steve squawks. “Me!”

“No, me!”

“I’ve known him longer!”

“He thinks I’m cooler!”

And so on until Eddie gets tired of arguing and shuts Steve up with a kiss. Before they can deepen it though, they’re once again interrupted by the kids.

“Eddie!” Dustin yells.

“Stop sucking face and let’s go!” Wheeler adds and Eddie can’t see him, but he knows his nose is scrunched up in disgust.

“We’re gonna be late!” Sinclair adds, urgently, and Erica mhm’s in agreement.

Eddie throws his head back with a groan. “Jesus H. Christ! They’re so annoying.”

“They are,” Steve chuckles, brushing their noses together. “Hey, you wanna come over tomorrow? We can work on that character thing together. Just you and me.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, lips parted in awe. Steve and D&D? There must be hearts in his eyes right now or bursting out of him like he’s a cartoon. “You’re offering to do nerdy shit with me? God, you’re a dream, Jesus Christ!” He says, hands coming up to cup either side of Steve’s face and peppering kisses all over it- his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and finally, his lips.

Steve giggles. “So, that’s a yes?”

“I’ll be here,” Eddie says with a grin.

Steve wraps his arms around his neck. “And since the kids won’t be there I expect there to be kissing and flirting.”

Eddie inches closer, smirking. “Hm, you can count on it, sweetheart.”

This time they don’t even get to kiss before the kids are yelling again, this time in unison. “Eddie!”

Eddie lets go of Steve’s waist and slaps his hands against his face. “Motherfucker!” He groans. Then louder, “I’m coming!”

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as Eddie hops down from the counter.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie tells him.

Steve gives him another dopey smile- or rather the same one since it hasn’t left his face at all. “Can’t wait.”

Eddie sweeps in for a quick kiss, one that the kids can’t interrupt, marveling for a second at the fact that he can simply do that now. Then with a final tug to Steve’s flowery apron, he skips out of the kitchen, turning around at the doorway to look at Steve one last time. He’s leaning against the counter, smile firmly plastered on his face and looking at Eddie like-

Well, exactly like Eddie is looking at him. Lovestruck, he thinks comes close to describing it. And ain’t that something.

He gives Eddie one of those little finger waves, and in return, Eddie blows him a kiss. Steve’s cheeks turning pink is the last thing he sees before he leaves the kitchen and joins the kids in the living room.

“Okay, shitheads!” He says, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Which one of you am I sending home walking?”

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #stficbingo #yet another getting together fic because i love them clearly #this one featuring the hellfire club #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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The Arrangement | Part 2*

Summary: Harry's wife proposes that he find a mistress to meet his needs in the bedroom as she is no longer willing. His wife has 2 rules: The first is that he finds a professional, and the second is that no feelings are to be involved. But both of those rules are thrown out the window when he meets Y/n.

A/n: Based on this request (take a read so you know what you're in for here) ~~ sugardaddy dom!harry x subby!reader 17.2k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut, spanking, use of rope, suspension, dominant/submissive relationship & dynamic (DDlg included), lying, unprotected sex, cheating, some slight violence

The Arrangement Masterlist

Y/n was feeling quite scandalous when she went back to work the day after she’d spent the most amazing night with Harry in bed, on the terrace, in the rooftop pool, and then having him choose to stay with her rather than going home to his wife. She woke up in his arms with him kissing her and then she somehow found herself happily giving him sloppy head and swallowing him down before getting dressed in her new chic high-waisted Loro Piana linen skirt, a cropped silk chiffon Loewe top, and the Manolos again.

And of course, the rouge Birkin bag.

Of which, Jessica nearly lost her mind over.

“Holy…” she looked around before speaking her next words quietly, “shit! Is this for real? Oh my god!!”

Y/n let her hold the bag as she turned her computer on. She was feeling so relaxed and so confident. Not like she’d ever really felt before. She knew, of course, her arrangement with Harry was just, well… an arrangement, but it didn’t mean that she wasn’t absolutely glowing and feeling the effects of his lavish attention.

“Yes, it’s real.” Y/n smiled and sat down. She still burned hot with embarrassment at Jessica’s attention over the bag but this time she was able to push it down and feign confidence.

Jessica leaned over her desk, “And you look… you’re absolutely radiant, Y/n. Like, everything about you looks…” she placed the purse down on the desk, “well… anyway. Do you want to grab lunch with me today?”

And that was how it went until the end of her internship. Suddenly, the nice clothes, the shoes, and the Birkin bag had Jessica’s attention and Y/n was invited to lunch nearly every day. Some days Y/n declined when Harry wanted her to himself. Which was at least once a week. In his office, in the conference room, at his house when Romy wasn’t there. Even once at her apartment in her room.

Harry had determined, though, that her living situation was not to his standards. The neighborhood she lived in wasn’t up to par. It was a little dangerous and having her wait for the bus to get to work or to go home made him nervous. He didn’t like it. He hated wondering if she was okay arriving at home late. He always insisted she text or call him once she arrived home safely.

And things progressed quickly. He showed her what he wanted and Y/n was on board all the way. She was all yes and please and thank you from the get-go.

She learned that she loved being completely tied up. Having her legs and arms secured with rope and tied down so he could do as he pleased. It gave her so much pleasure and made her feel confident and calm, as crazy as that sounded. Not needing to make any kind of decision or even move a bone in her body if she didn’t want. Because she trusted Harry. The longer she knew him the better it was. The more confident and comfortable she was.

He bought her more things she didn’t need but that she wound up loving. More clothes. A new cellphone. He paid her monthly bill. Flew her to Hawaii with him for a quick weekend away when he had a conference. Booked spa, hair, and nail appointments for her, paid for a driver to pick her up at her apartment when she wasn’t staying at some posh hotel with him, and even gave her a credit card. He made her an authorized user and gave her her own card with her name on it and everything.

Harry paid for everything. He wouldn’t allow her to spend any of her money. He wanted her to save every dime she made.

It took a little time to get her comfortable with the money aspect. She was very much fine with the physical part of their relationship. She loved the feeling of not comfortably sitting (the reminder of why she couldn’t sit was a thrill), loved when he wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed. Loved being yanked by the leather collar and leash and strapped into the harness and fucked so hard she’d spin out into her subspace and feel like a floaty angel.

She loved it all because it was with Harry who she trusted. Who took such good care of her after. Who treated her like his princess and chose her over his wife time and time again. Whom she was beginning to realize she was in love with.

But it was the fact that he was married that kept her from telling him that she did love him. That she wanted him for herself. That she wanted more. But she wouldn’t dare ruin what they had. She wouldn’t dare interrupt the blissful and beautiful arrangement they had. She was happier than she’d ever been.

There was a basic, yet nice, going away dinner for all the interns when the summer was over just before school started back. It was on a Friday in a nearby restaurant overlooking the river.

Y/n was enjoying herself, speaking with one of the other interns she hadn’t had much opportunity to get to know with a glass of Cabernet. She was wearing a very nice dress (courtesy of Harry of course) and was looking forward to seeing Harry afterward. He told her he booked a room for them so she was feeling the pre-session excitement and small boost of confidence she normally did beforehand.

Aaron was a nice guy. Attractive by any standards. Smart. And Y/n recognized that he was trying to hit on her. But of course, she wasn’t interested. Her lover was somewhere in the same room and she was flying high with anticipation of what the night would bring once he got her alone.

But Harry was in a foul mood. Romy decided to come by, which wasn’t unusual. But Harry didn’t need Romy ruining his night. She knew he wasn’t coming home that evening. Which Harry assumed she wasn’t happy about. She’d been expressing her deep concern about his more frequent absence. Spending so many nights with his mistress, whom she’d not even learned the name of.

But not only was Romy hanging onto his arm and laughing at some nonsense one of the new partners was spewing he could see Aaron clearly trying to shoot his shot with his girl. Y/n was being polite, he could read the situation for what it was. She was not interested but she was being kind and Aaron thought her kindness meant she was interested. Harry wished she’d just tell him that she was taken. That she wasn’t interested. But instead of hurting his feelings or making him feel embarrassed she just smiled and nodded and spoke when it was her turn and made friendly eye contact with him.

Harry really liked Y/n. Well, it was more than like. He was developing deep feelings for the girl. He couldn’t help it. So he didn’t like that she seemed to be acting so casually with Aaron who was very obviously flirting with her.

It had been nearly two months since they’d begun their arrangement. Y/n was going back to school in two weeks and her life was looking just grand. She was in her element, finally. In all her life she’d never been in her element. Never. But somehow Harry brought to surface her confidence and her glow.

But she missed seeing him alone and playing with him. It had been a few days away from him, and while that shouldn’t be a problem, it felt too long. Three nights away from him was no longer okay. She missed him too much.

The last day she spent with Harry he asked her a question that she hadn’t been able to forget about. She wasn’t sure if he would actually follow up or if he’d just drop it.

“So there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you about,” Harry spoke as he placed her mug of coffee down next to her at the table. Y/n looked up at him in question.

He continued, “You mentioned that one time someone hurt you when they spanked you. Mind telling me his name?”

“Oh. Um… I guess. It was a long time ago, though, Harry. Really it’s nothing that even bothers me now.”

Harry sat down and kept his eyes on Y/n’s with his eyebrows raised, “What’s his name?”

“Martin Estes.”

“Is he here in the city or is he from back home?”

“Well, he lived here when I dated him a couple of years ago. But I don’t know if he still does.”

“Address?” He asked and sipped his coffee.

Blinking her eyes she looked down at her mug of coffee before looking back at Harry, “Why? What are you going to do?”

“I just want to have a chat with him. Doesn’t matter, though, he probably doesn’t even live in the same place anyway. Right?”

“Yeah. Um," she paused to think back to the area where she'd visited the guy a couple of times, "it was off Carmen near the university. Across from the dorms. Grey house. Two stories. He had a lot of roommates. I don’t remember the house number.”

Harry nodded and smiled, “Thank you.”

“But really, Harry. It’s not necessary. It’s been such a long time. I doubt he would even remember me- “

“Just another reason for me to visit him. I’ll give him a reminder so he won’t ever forget about you.”

As she thought about what he’d said that morning to her a few days ago she moved her eyes around the room and spotted him, the man she had been looking forward to seeing that very evening.

His face was set in a small frown as he met her gaze and then looked back to where his wife was next to him. Y/n hadn’t realized Romy was there. Suddenly her confidence and her liveliness faltered when she considered that perhaps she wouldn’t be seeing Harry that evening after all. Because if Romy was with him…

“But anyway, I think tomorrow we’re all gonna go out and celebrate before going our separate ways. What do you say? You wanna come?”

Y/n turned back toward Aaron, whom she hadn’t been listening to at all, and shook her head, “No… I have plans but thank you for the invite.”

“Yeah, no problem. Here…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, “What’s your phone number? I’ll text you so have mine just in case you wind up changing your mind.”

“Oh, uh…” She looked around and saw Harry looking right at her. As if he knew that Aaron was asking for her number. But when Romy turned her face to look at her husband and leaned in to kiss his cheek Y/n felt the smallest bit of anger bubble up in her chest. She could give a guy her number. Harry was married and here he was with his wife right in front of her.

Reaching into her purse she pulled out her phone and rattled off her number to Aaron who quickly texted her.

“There. Now we have each other’s numbers. So if not tomorrow, maybe another night?” He smiled and winked.

“Yeah, maybe another night.”

She knew Harry saw the whole exchange but what about what she saw with him and his wife? Did he think of that? She crossed the room to find the hallway and get some air from the crowd when she found the lady's room.

In the bathroom, she washed her hands and leaned into the wall near the mirrors in the sitting area, and scrolled through her phone. She needed a minute before heading back out to mingle again. It was becoming suffocating with so many people and seeing Romy all elegant and put together on Harry’s arm felt like a lot.

A notification covered her screen when she got a text. From Harry.

Where are you?

She sighed and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to be mad at him but she was. She was jealous that his wife was there and didn’t like the way he looked at her when Aaron was talking to her. She considered not texting him back for a bit. Just to make him seethe a little longer.

Clicking her phone off and putting it into her purse she felt her heart pound in her chest at the nerves that were building. She was being a bit bold by not responding to him right away. Normally she’d type out a quick response and be grinning from ear to ear. But in that moment she was feeling something a little different. Maybe a touch of adrenaline? Or perhaps she was a bit nervous at defying him the way she was. Would he punish her?

Y/n had never been punished by Harry. Not in the way that she felt he’d punish her for something like this. Part of her thought perhaps she might like to get a proper punishment. Maybe she’d done this on purpose in her subconscious mind. She decided she wouldn’t text him back. She’d just ignore his text, leave him on read, and go out and enjoy the rest of the night.

Pushing the door to the bathroom open to exit she heard a man and a woman in the hallway. Just as she turned her head to see who was talking she noticed that Romy was following behind someone into the men’s restroom. The voice wasn’t Harry’s. She didn’t see the man because he’d gone in first but she did find it strange that Romy was entering the men’s room.

Standing next to the door in silence she could hear only voices but no distinguishable words. Y/n was too interested to find out what was happening in the bathroom with Romy and the other man. She shouldn’t have been snooping in Romy’s business but since Harry was Y/n’s business she felt this was sort of her business as well.

Her phone chimed again and she reached into her purse to pull it out as she leaned her back to the wall next to the men’s bathroom door.

You’re in for it tonight, little girl. Be warned. If I don’t hear back from you within 5 minutes I will tear this restaurant apart to find you.

Harry knew she wasn’t with Aaron because he’d just finished talking to him. Which actually helped calm him down after she didn’t respond to his first text. He realized Y/n was avoiding him. Was she playing some kind of game?

His text brought a small smile to her face. Yes, she was feeling in a mood. She was only getting more excited by the idea of him feeling anxious and getting punished, but his text confirmed it. She was in for it.

Shooting off a single-word text to him- bathroom - she stuffed her phone back into her expensive purse and kept her spot next to the men’s bathroom door. Hoping to find out what Romy and this man were up to.

Harry rounded the corner in the hallway where Y/n stood not long after he saw her text. He wore the same scowl he had earlier as he neared the girl.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting for the two people in this bathroom to finish up doing whatever it is they’re doing in there.”

“This is the men’s bathroom. Why do you care?” Harry stood over Y/n, directly in front of her. He was ready to bend her over his knee and spank the attitude out of her.

“I was just curious…” she felt her resolution crumble. She wanted to stay tough and bratty but he was making her soften quickly. Especially because she knew who was behind the door which could change everything for them that evening.

“It’s time for us to leave. Do you have everything?”

“Yeah, but don’t you want to wait for your wife? She came here to see you.” Y/n felt the smallest twinge of guilt saying that. She was sure he didn’t realize his wife was behind the door with another man.

“She left already. She was tired, as usual. Don’t worry about her.”

“She told you she was leaving?”

Harry paused. He was about to turn and half expected Y/n to just follow him because that was what she would have normally done. So he was surprised when she rebutted with her question.

“Yes. And then I walked her out so she could call her driver to take her home.”

Y/n blinked and looked toward the bathroom door and then back to Harry, “Umm…”

She didn’t want to tell him but at the same time, the kindest thing would have been for her to be honest. And she was certain he’d want to know.

Harry suddenly recognized what was going on, or at least he had a feeling, “Is Romy in there with someone, Y/n?”

She nodded as she watched Harry push the door open and walk into the bathroom. Following quickly behind him there was nothing to see in the sitting area. The men’s room was set up like the women’s. The first entry point had mirrors and a long vanity with benches and chairs for sitting. Beyond the sitting area was the long mirror with sinks and toiletries and then a separate area with stalls. The large accessible stall all the way toward the end was the only one in use. Y/n could hear the quiet movements and gasps as they got in closer. Once her heels hit the marble floor the sound of rustling fabric stopped.

“Romy! Come out now!”

Harry’s loud voice was angry, and Y/n hadn’t expected him to sound so furious.

There were frantic whispers and hushes as the two people who were taking up the large stall were probably trying to straighten out their clothes and get their stories straight.

Harry looked back at Y/n standing behind him and then toward the stall door, waiting for it to open.

“Open the fucking door now before I tear it off the hinges and pull you out of there myself!”

“Harry, I need you to calm down-“ Romy’s voice sounded from behind the door as there was a small bit of commotion in the stall with the porcelain of the toilet lid clanking.

“Do not fucking tell me to calm down. Open the door now!”

The click of the lock echoed as the fiberglass stall door slowly opened. Romy stepped out but kept her back to the door. She was clearly shaken up. She looked at the girl behind Harry and then at him not uttering a word.

“Well come on out, show me who’s in there with you,” Harry dramatically gestured toward her.

Romy put her hands up, “Harry, look, this isn’t-“

“The fuck it isn’t!” Harry lurched toward Romy and pulled at her hand, yanking her away from the door and into the room with the sinks where Y/n stood. He slammed the door wide open and there, standing on the toilet, perhaps in an attempt to hide himself, was Harry’s partner and the man he founded his business with. His best friend Sean.

The silence sliced through Y/n’s spine. It was scarier than when he was shouting. Harry only looked his friend in the eye before turning and walking past both Romy and Y/n to exit the bathroom.

Y/n hurried after him and when she finally caught up she grasped his elbow to get him to slow down, to get him to talk to her, to look at her.

“Harry, wait!”

Harry continued rapidly walking toward the exit of the restaurant and even with Y/n’s hand at his elbow he wouldn’t be slowed down. He needed to get out of there. Needed to think.

“Get a taxi and go home, Y/n. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Y/n let go of him and stopped abruptly, tears filling her eyes. She knew he wasn’t mad at her but it hurt nonetheless. She had been looking forward to seeing him and now he was upset, heartbroken maybe and there was nothing she could do to help.

It took her a moment to clear her blurry eyes before she reached a shaky hand into her purse to order a taxi.

Before she could finish, Aaron was calling her name. His kind face came into view and he stopped suddenly when he realized she’d been crying.

“Hey… are you okay? Come here,” he gently pulled at her arm and brought her toward the exit of the building so they could get some air outside, “Talk to me. Is everything all right?”

She shook her head and let out a pathetic sob, tears she’d just cleared from her eyes filling up and making her vision blurry again, “I just… I have a boyfriend. I’m okay but he just got some really bad news and…”

Aaron pulled her into his arms and patted her back, “It’s okay to cry.”

Y/n pulled away from the embrace after a few more beats and smiled up at the guy, “Thank you, Aaron.”

“No problem. Hey, I’ve got an Uber coming to take me home. Wanna share? I’m headed toward Northpark but I’m sure wherever you live they can reroute to accommodate. What do you say?”

Y/n wasn’t in a head space to say no to this invitation. It was a reasonable one too. And she really felt like even if Aaron was trying to shoot his shot with her earlier, he was a genuinely nice guy. Someone she could trust. At least a little. Plus, it was just a shared taxi ride. What could possibly be bad about this?

When she walked into her apartment Gregory was sitting in the living room watching the television.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you around lately. How have you been?” He sat up straight as she walked into the living room and toed her heels off.

“Oh, good. The internship has been a lot,” she said leaning down to pick her shoes up from the floor, “Just really tired right now, though. I hope you don’t think it’s rude if I just head to my room.”

“Of course not. Get some rest.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief walking into the hallway to go toward her bedroom. Gregory was a nice guy but she was truly exhausted. Mentally. Physically she was a ball of nerves and she needed to pace and cry and overthink (which was a terrible idea but she couldn’t help herself).

She took her dress off and placed her purse on her dresser and plopped onto her bed and let herself spiral. She’d been doing so well since meeting Harry. She’d felt more confident, more even emotionally, relaxed… but tonight everything had been unraveled. Seeing Harry with his wife, the look he was giving her for talking to Aaron, then the way Harry reacted when he realized Romy was with his business partner Sean, a man she knew was Harry’s very close friend… well Harry seemed very upset. Broken. Knowing that another woman could get that kind of reaction from him hurt. Of course, she knew realistically that their relationship was only an arrangement. Something fun for him and for her. Only she was in love with him. It had been a whole summer they’d been together and she had learned so much about herself through Harry.

But now what? The summer was ending and even though she’d be going to school locally and still living in her little apartment in a not-so-safe neighborhood would they continue their little tryst? It felt so petty of her to wonder that even, given the circumstances. He’d just found out that his wife had been seeing his good friend and never told him. He caught them red-handed so to speak. And here she was thinking of only herself.

She felt like she was going to burst into dust, fall to pieces on the floor, or simply stop existing. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she cried silently, not wanting to bother Gregory. It felt like this was it with Harry. He said he’d call her but he definitely didn’t need to. And what would she do if he didn’t call her? Call him? Text him and beg him? Get a taxi to take her to his home and hope Romy wasn’t there? She would. She would probably lower herself to begging and groveling and she hated that about herself. She was pathetic.

Suddenly she heard loud voices coming from the living room. She was sure one of them was Harry’s voice but she felt like she was probably hallucinating or going crazy. It couldn’t be.

Wiping her tears she sat up and perked her ears. She was only wearing a slip that she had on under her dress but she was about to walk into the living room to confirm what she was hearing.

Suddenly her door was pushed open and it was Harry with Gregory right behind him.

She stood from the bed quickly and took Harry’s hand as she looked at Gregory, “It’s okay.”

Harry slammed the door closed after Gregory raised his hands in defeat and backed away, “Where is he?”

“Who? What are –“

“Aaron. I saw you get in the taxi with him after letting him put his hands all over you.”

She released his hand and backed away. She was surprised that he’d actually think she’d want anyone but him.

Her anger rose in place of the sorrow and helplessness she felt only moments prior, “Fuck you.”

Harry was taken aback. She’d never spoken to him that way before, “What?” He was genuinely shocked by her words.

“I said FUCK YOU!” She shouted the words and like the wimp she was, began crying when she was supposed to be mad and mean. Instead, she was already letting her tears fall with abandon.

Harry blinked his eyes and looked at his sweet girl in tears and shaking with anger. He’d done this to her. He didn’t mean to but he did. And he was angry too. Angry that his wife had been lying to him. That his best friend had been lying to him (that one hurt the most if he was honest). And yes, he’d been lying to Romy but his lies weren’t the same, weren’t as severe. Romy gave him parameters but she didn’t tell him she was getting her needs met elsewhere (with his best friend) and therefore set no parameters for herself.

And he knew he shouldn’t be taking this out on Y/n. Clearly, Aaron was not in her room or her apartment. He had allowed himself to fall into self-pity – his wife was cheating with his best friend and now he’d made up a scenario that his lover was leaving him for some 22-year-old trust fund college boy. But that wasn’t fair to her. Y/n hadn’t done anything wrong. The only people he should be angry with were Sean and Romy.

Y/n wrapped her arms around herself and sobbed as she sat down on the floor, not even making it to her bed. She was devasted. It was over. It had to be. He was so mad and there was no way he’d believe her if he saw all that. Especially after having just seen what his wife was up to.

Harry realized this was his fuck up. Y/n didn’t deserve this. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to start opening up to her before she closed herself off to him for good.

He stepped toward where she was and lowered to his knees in front of her, “Y/n, please look at me,” he said as he pulled her hands into his.

She knew she looked ridiculous. Her mascara was surely running down her face, eyes red and puffy from crying. But she did as he said because it was easier to just comply, her naturally submissive nature always leading her.

“I’m sorry. I…” he sat down next to her, keeping her hands in his, “I saw you and Aaron while I was waiting for my driver to pick me up and - I know you didn’t do anything. But then I saw you get into the taxi with him and I expected the worst. I had my driver bring me here and I just… I lost it. I can’t lose you too. I lost Romy a long time ago. But knowing my best friend…” Harry shook his head at the thought, “and you… I can’t lose you too. It was like seeing all of that tonight and I just overreacted and I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

She understood him. Deeply. She nodded and she felt his words and they were clear. She knew his intentions. And suddenly she was just thankful he was there with her.

Harry brought a hand up to her face and brushed his fingers along her jaw, “You mean so much more to me than I’ve let you know and that’s all my fault. Please don’t hate me. Don’t be sad. I… I’m sorry. All of that, all of this… it’s on me. I’m the one that did all this.”

Y/n brought her own hand up to Harry’s face and cupped his jaw, “Thank you.”

Harry stayed with Y/n that night in her tiny bedroom. He didn’t have his soft plush bed, comfortable joggers, or even a nice glass of wine to wind down. But he had Y/n in his arms and his heart beat for her and that was all he needed.

. . .

Harry brought her to the hotel he booked for them the following day. He was mostly silent on the way. He told her to pack what she needed for the week and then called ahead to the hotel to order breakfast for their room upon their arrival.

“Sit and eat. I have a few calls to make,” he said as he gestured to the breakfast set up once they got into their suite.

Y/n nibbled and peeked out the window to watch Harry pacing back and forth on his cell phone on the terrace. She wanted to know what he was saying. Whom he was speaking to. Why he wasn’t sitting with her and eating (though she wasn’t sitting when she had that thought in her head as she was spying on him).

Harry had been considering it for some time. Had figured it’d be good for them both but he wanted it to be a surprise for her. He knew she might have her reservations but he was set on doing this for her. But when he saw her peeking out the window he smirked to himself and decided he’d take care of her once he got back inside.

Y/n sat down at the table quickly and spread strawberry jam onto the croissant. She knew he spotted her. She smiled as she chewed the pastry, feeling good about where she and Harry were. The night before had been a whirlwind but it ended with him at her place and an apology for which she was grateful. It was also the first night they spent together without sex. And that was something.

He didn’t seem too bothered by what Romy had done. He’d expressed his displeasure with Sean, though. She realized that part hurt him the worst. That he was going to need time to recover from the blow of his best friend betraying him that way.

When Harry stepped back inside he was different somehow. He’d been so loving the night before and very sweet all morning, if not quiet. But now he was oozing of his dom persona and she immediately recognized it. Preparing her psyche for anything she rounded her eyes and watched him walk toward the table, giving him a look that told him he was in charge of her and she would comply.

“I think I could use a stress reliever right now. Last night was hard for me and I know it was for you too. You probably need to disconnect a bit as well don’t you little girl?”

She nodded and sat her croissant down.

Harry leaned over her and tilted her face up to his so he could kiss her. His lips softly moving over hers always worked her up into a drippy mess faster than she could understand. There was something about their connection that had her body responding to him faster than anyone she’d ever known, “And I promised you last night that you were in for it. I hope you don’t think you’re off the hook for not responding to my text and flirting right in front of me.”

Suddenly his hand moved up to the nape of her neck and he carded his fingers into her hair and yanked her up out of her seat, pulling her along to the couch where he sat down and brought her over his lap with her bottom up, hastily pulling her skirt up to reveal her pretty lace thong.

“Wearing everything Daddy bought you like a good girl. Except you’ve been naughty,” he brought his hand down to her bottom with a good slap, which was marked with bruises from their night together days prior. She jumped and hissed, clawing at the fabric on the couch, and squeezed her eyes closed.

“I’m going to put you in the harness today. Keep you on the bed and spread apart for me. Might use your paddle too. First, we need to open you up so I can put this in,” he lifted up the pretty anal plug he bought her a month ago. She’d been using it and he had fingered her multiple times, using as many fingers as he could fit in order to prepare her. He hadn’t yet fucked her in the bum like he promised he would. She looked from the plug to Harry and knew what she needed to do. What he’d taught her.

She licked her palm and stuck her middle finger into her mouth to get her digit wet before reaching back around to swipe the saliva around her hole. Harry kept his face set without emotion as he watched her start the process. He knew she wasn’t going to be able to get wet enough by just doing this but he loved watching her eagerly give it a try. She licked her finger again, spitting a big glob of saliva into her palm, and then rubbed it over herself again, her arm going behind her back as Harry held her cheeks apart.

He loved watching her touch herself and when she sunk her middle finger into her anus he started to plump up in his pants. He felt like tonight she’d be ready. He wanted to try it. He’d been wanting to but they were still getting used to everything with one another. Luckily Y/n was very receptive. Very willing and eager. Never said no.

She kept her eyes on him as she moved her finger in and out and Harry spit over her hole, the saliva hitting the puckered skin, and watched as she pushed it into her opening and moaned. He looked at her face and leaned in to kiss her. It was lovely having her draped over his lap on the couch with her bottom up and bare to him. She’d let him if he wanted to right then. Even if it hurt. He knew she would. But he wanted to get her totally relaxed, make a mess of her pussy first, and have her all subby and needy for him, begging him to fuck her ass. Last time they played she did. She begged him. Sat at the edge of the bed and put her ass in the air. She even cried a little when he told her he didn’t think she was ready yet.

That was the thing about Y/n. She was fun to play with. She dove into her persona headfirst and played the part only wanting more and more. And he hated comparing his wife to Y/n in any way, but Y/n was better at it. By far. Romy had been great too but she was the first one he’d ever really done anything of the sort with. Y/n was more natural at it. And she got wetter too. Harry had never slept with any woman that would get so wet so fast.

Like right now. Her pussy was already eagerly seeping arousal. Running his fingers through her crease and to her bum where her finger was, he pulled her finger out and slowly pushed his own in, “Let’s see how Daddy does it.”

He sucked in a deep breath as he watched his finger slide in, coated in her slick, massaging her walls.

She kept her eyes on him and whined when his finger pushed in to the knuckle. Harry looked from where his finger was working her open to her eyes and with his free hand he pulled her in for another kiss.

“Feels good doesn’t it, little girl. Want more?”

Nodding her head she smiled softly. Harry pinched her chin before removing his finger from her bottom and swiping it through her folds again, collecting her slippery juice over two of his fingers.

“Keep your eyes on me. Let me see your pretty eyes while I finger your ass.”

Harry slowly prodded his fingers into her, stretching her open, and her mouth parted.

When she started rocking her hips Harry swatted her bottom and removed his fingers, “Up. Get off.”

She straightened herself out and stood next to the couch as Harry got up and crossed the room and reach into his bag. He turned and pointed at the bed, “Panties off, bend over the bed.”

Doing what he said quickly she stepped out of her panties and kicked them to the side of the room and lifted her skirt as she bent herself and waited.

Harry stepped in behind her, “Spread your cheeks.”

She reached around, bringing her hands to her bottom, and used her fingers to part her cheeks for him. Feeling the cool liquid of the lube drip over her anus she bit her lip and turned her head on the comforter to chance being able to see Harry in her peripheral.

He stuck his finger into her entrance, smearing the lubrication inside and all around before getting the plug coated.

“Are you ready?” He spoke as he pressed the tip of the heavy glass toy to her bum.

Y/n nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry smiled and began to push it inside of her. Once it was pressed through her hole and secured, he turned it and pushed at it, causing her to jolt and then moan. He knew she liked it. She expressed as much the first time he put one in her. Though the first he used was half the size as she was currently on, she loved it. And with the way she took it in so much better than all the times before, he could tell she’d be ready for what he had in store for her tonight.

“Looks pretty, Y/n. But just because you’re pretty doesn’t mean you get out of your punishment. Take your clothes off.”

Standing up straight she turned to look at Harry and removed her top and her skirt. He stood a few feet from her and looked over her pretty frame. She was perfect for him. From top to bottom.

Harry stood in front of her and brought up the collar that connected to the harness. He tightened it around her neck and then attached the leash. Harry yanked on the leather and Y/n quickly fell to her knees in front of him. She kept her eyes on him at all times, knowing that was what he required. Pulling at her collar as he walked toward the closet, she crawled with him on all fours quickly.

Harry brought the harness out of one of the suitcases and then pulled out another long leather strap. Without a word he bent down and put the harness over her head, securing the straps under her torso and buckling it up around her back. He tested the tightness, lifting her the smallest bit at the back where the straps intersected.

“Good.” Was all he said before he pulled her along with him to the bed, gesturing for her to climb up.

She stayed quiet as he told her what he wanted. She got onto her hands and knees and then Harry came up behind her on the bed and yanked at the loop at the back of the harness, lifting her upward so only her knees were on the mattress. He pulled both of her hands behind her back and secured her wrists together with the leather strap and then to the loop at the back of the harness.

He removed the leash from her collar and placed it on the bed and grasped the loop at the back of her harness where her wrists were secured, lowering her face down to the bed.

Harry enjoyed how compliant she always was, how sweet, how horny…

Rubbing over her bottom he peeked at the plug and tapped it, causing her to stiffen and peep out a hushed moan. Then suddenly she felt the stiff, smooth, cool leather of the leash being run through her soaked folds before cracking it down over her bum.

She thrashed at the sudden sharp tear into her skin but bit her lip to keep quiet.

He repeated his actions, putting the leather over her pussy and dragging it upward toward her bum and then whipping the stiff leash over the other side of her bottom. She panted and closed her eyes.

Harry could see her balling her fists behind her back. The mix between the leather being moved through her crease and then coming down hard on her plump flesh was giving her goosebumps and making her heart race wildly.

He loved watching her try and hold still. She really was a good girl. Always doing her best to please him. He smirked to himself when he saw her face smushed into the blanket, her eyes pinched closed and her lips bitten and wet, small gasps falling from her mouth.

Harry grabbed her hair, yanking her neck back as he pushed a finger through her wet center, “You’re so naughty, Y/n. Such a slut for me aren’t you? Here I am spanking you with the leash you love me to put on your neck and you’re completely making a mess of the blankets under you,” he pushed a finger into her entrance and she moaned at the intrusion.

Looking down at the work he’s done he realized her arousal had gotten onto the leash and transferred to the skin on her bottom when he’d spanked her with it, “So dirty.”

Harry released her hair from his hand and unbuttoned his pants pulling his hard cock out of the front of his briefs and leaning over her bottom, his tip gliding up and down through her drenched cunt. He held onto her hands behind her back as he pushed into her.

She yelped into the comforter below her, the fabric muffling her noises. The feel of his big cock slipping into her and the plug taking up so much space felt achy and full.

He moaned at the feel of her. With the toy inside she was so tight and he could feel it pressing into her walls as he began to fuck down into her. The part of the toy that was sticking out was nudging up and down from the invasion of his cock inside of her with each press and pull.

She gasped and clenched involuntarily around him as he thrusted deep. She could feel the toy in her anus being pushed and prodded with each plunge of his cock into her pussy.

“If you’d been a good girl for me last night at the dinner,” he said as he bucked inward deeply and sharply, “I’d rub your clit for you to make it easier for you to come,” he spoke in between his plunges, “as it is… fffuckk…” he groaned when she clamped her pussy hard, “you were naughty,” he panted his words as he tapped the tip of the plug and then pulled at it before pushing it back into her.

Y/n bit down on the blanket as she moaned. She’d come without clitoral stimulation before and with the toy inside of her bum she knew she’d come again without it.

And when Harry began to fuck into her, rocking himself in hard and deep, his hips striking her ass as he set in with a hungry pace she felt his hand squeeze hers so he could guide her into him. The leather harness on her body was pinching into her skin, the front straps were crossed between her breasts causing them to squish together. It ached. His wide shaft pushed into her walls with slick glides, punching into her cervix every time his hips met her ass. The toy pinched and jostled inside her tight hole but she felt the sting that she loved when he put it in her.

In a sudden act of defiance, she turned her head to the side so she could speak, “Fuck my ass, Daddy. Want your cock in there. Now. Please!”

Harry groaned and pounded in harder, letting go of her wrist with one of his hands he brought his palm down and spanked hard making her cry out and jump, but he only held onto her tighter so he could push himself in deeper.

“My baby girl is asking for something she doesn’t deserve,” another strike to her bum as he continued mercilessly pounding her with his cock.

Y/n yelped and shook her head, “I’m a good girl- Ahhh!!”

Harry let go of her hand and pushed her down flat to the bed as he pulled his cock out. Harry was already feeling the buzz of his orgasm building. He needed to take it a little slower if he didn’t want to come too fast. He wanted to really give it to her good when he finally fucked her tightest hole. And he was all talk really. He wanted her to come and he would definitely be fucking her ass. He wanted it just as much as she did. It’d been a long time since he’d had the pleasure of having anal sex.

Standing up next to the bed he watched her writhe in agony at the loss of his cock and he smirked to himself as he rid himself of his clothes. He held onto his thick cock as he went through his bag and pulled out a dildo with a vibrator that stimulated the G-spot and the clit. He’d used it on her once before but she begged him to use his cock instead, which had him very pleased. She preferred the real thing. Of course, she did. But this time, Harry would have her pussy filled with the vibrator and her ass filled with him.

Kneeling behind her on the bed he popped her cheek again and pulled her hips upward, “Let’s get this out of here. Put something a little bigger inside. See if you can really handle me like you say you can.”

Y/n sighed and smiled as he slid the plug out and tossed it on the bed. She wiggled her bottom and in return, he smacked her bum hard, two strikes on each side, “Fffuck! Ow!!” She cried out and surged forward to get away from his spankings.

Harry grasped her hair and yanked her up, “Stay still like a good girl, Y/n. Or you won’t get anything you want today.”

Letting go of her hair he pushed her down by her neck back into the bed and smoothed a glob of lube over his cock and a little more onto her anus. It was a pretty view. Shiny and clenching, the back of her smooth thighs steadying herself as she squirmed the tiniest bit.

Holding his heavy dick up toward her ass he pressed the tip to her hole and then grasped onto her wrist with his other hand to keep her balanced as he was about to push into her with a firm thrust.

“I’m gonna wreck this hole, baby. Come inside of you and have you dripping with my come all down your pussy and your thighs,” he said as he rubbed the backs of her thighs, already slick with lube. She moaned in response.

Dipping into her he felt her stiffen at the intrusion. He was wider and longer than the plug. He only pushed in just passed her anus but could tell she was already feeling the difference in size.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna go in slow. Get you all opened up nice and wide for me. Can you relax a little baby girl?”

Y/n nodded, “Yes, Daddy. I’m gonna relax. Keep going…” Her words were breathy.

Pushing in a little more he watched as his dense cock slowly sunk in, little by little. He kept her steady holding her wrist and used his free hand to gently slip his fingers over her clit. He told her he wasn’t going to but he needed her to feel good. Wanted this to be enjoyable for her since it was her first time.

“Look at that… little girl… oooh fffuck,” he panted, “Daddy is the first to fuck your ass. How’s it feel?”

Y/n gurgled as she tried to open her throat to speak, “Goooood- yess!”

Harry smiled as he began to pump in and out slowly, “Yeah? You’re taking me so well baby. It feels fucking good doesn’t it?”

She could only nod as he filled her and backed himself out then pushed in harder. Slowly she felt the tingle of something yummy inside. The way he was gliding through her anus and into her rectum. Harry had talked her through everything the first time he introduced her to the idea of anal. Explained how it would work and that anal sex could sometimes be messy but not usually.

When he felt she was nicely opened up and enjoying it (and the way she was pushing against his thrusts told him as much) he removed his fingers from her clit and brought the vibrator up so she could see it, “Gonna make you stuffed full. Think you can handle this inside your cunt? Hm?”

Y/n nodded and moaned, “Yes. I can.”

Harry stopped rolling his hips into her and let go of her wrist as he placed the tip of the toy at her entrance. Pulling his cock out nearly all the way he pushed the toy into her pussy, thrusting a few times before bringing it back out to the tip and then pushed both the toy and his cock inward. Her small pants and gasps suddenly were hushed and her mouth drew open wide as she felt the thickness of his cock and the smooth length of the toy entering her at the same time.

Harry kept his hand on the base of the toy as he thrusted it into her slowly in time with his cock into her ass. He could tell it was a lot for her but she was so wet and her pussy was aching for something to fill it, “Want me to turn it on? Keep it deep inside of you while I fuck your bottom?”

Once again, she was unable to respond with words, only nodding her head and breathing deeply at the way she was being stretched and filled.

Harry pushed the toy in as far as it would reach, angling the nob at the front near her clit, and clicked it on. The moment the vibrations began to pulse through her insides he let out a soft moan and threw his head back. It felt good for him too. He felt the vibrations through her walls to his cock. He grabbed her wrists with one hand and kept the vibrator plunged in deep so the vibrations would hit her spots and her clit would be stimulated as he began to move into her again the tip of his cock was being stimulated every time he dipped in as far as he could go.

Y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and drool pooled under her mouth on the comforter. Her small whimpers and huffs were hushed as he continued a slow, sensual pace into her. She felt his fingers tighten around her wrist as his moans grew louder and his hips stuttered each time he thrust. Every little bump and nudge and stroke into her was on fire. Her body began to shake and the pressure built up from her core and spread like lava to her pussy and down her thighs.

She was going to come and there was nothing that was going to stop it. She could also feel the deep forceful snap inside that meant she was about to make a big mess. Maybe bigger than any of her past messes.

Harry had made her squirt a handful of times. One of the times was pretty significant and soaked the bed he slept on with Romy. He’d had her at his home tied up to the bed while Romy was out for the night with “girlfriends” (which thinking back on all the times Romy was out made him wonder). He knew it was risky fucking his mistress in his home but he didn’t care when it came to Y/n. Somehow he’d subconsciously already resigned himself to it being over with Romy. Even though he did still love her at that time, he could say for certain he was no longer in love with his wife. Not when he had Y/n who took such good care of him, who loved everything he did to her. Who begged and pleaded with him just to suck him off. Who looked at him as if he were hers. And he was hers. Just like she was his. Y/n was his little girl. The one he wanted to keep around for good. It hadn’t started that way but he was in too deep now.

She couldn’t warn him that she was about to let loose. It was as if having her pussy and her ass filled at the same time rendered her speechless. Dumb. She could barely breathe let alone think a coherent thought. The smallest noises falling from her lips were all she could articulate when she suddenly stilled and wailed loudly as her body convulsed. Harry saw the liquid drip down her thighs and to the mattress and realized what was going on. He pulled the toy out and it was like a small shower had been turned on and poured from her down to the bed. She whined and choked out cries as she squirted. Harry stilled his hips to watch and let her release the way she needed.

“Fffuck baby girl! Fffuck…” he loved watching it. When she’d squirted all over his bed at his home he wanted to take a video of it. But this one was more intense. More liquid poured from her as she writhed and thrashed under him. He attempted to keep her still so he didn’t need to pull out, not wanting to remove his cock from her warm hole.

When she’d finished she was panting and mumbling. Her legs were jelly but Harry held her up so he could continue. He started up again, moving his hips into her, his knees wet with her liquid, the bed would have to be cleaned up and he’d need to call for someone to come and give them new sheets but he was high with lust as he was about to come.

“Put it back in, Daddy- Please…” Y/n whispered.

Harry chuckled and picked the toy back up to put it back in, “Want me to turn it back on or was that too much?”

“Yes. On.”

Y/n had squirted but she hadn’t orgasmed like she needed. That was something else she learned with Harry. Squirting doesn’t always mean you’ve come. It’s a great feeling but it’s not the same and she’d been so close to coming before her body gave in to the pressure that had built up inside of her.

Harry put the toy in all the way and turned it on again. His cock was throbbing, ready to release into her but he knew she was about to come and he wanted to feel her coming before letting himself go.

His thrusts were gentle as he was in as far as he could go, his frenulum vibrating from the toy in her vagina. He started to see white and his ears started to ring as he felt her anus close and pulse around him.

He kept his eyes on her but he couldn’t see her face and she was silent so when she started coming he could only tell by the way her body began shaking and her back arched deep, her thighs stiffened against his thrusts.

“Oh baby, fuck!” Harry growled as he came inside of her. He wanted to hold out longer but everything felt so good. His cock was being squeezed and the vibrations had him on edge since he turned the toy on the first time.

They both came together, Harry the only one moaning and cursing as he released. Y/n couldn’t peep a noise as her mouth was wide and spit slid down her chin.

Harry’s sloppy thrusts came to a halt as he spilled into her, moving his hand from her wrist to hold one of her hands as he stilled his hips and gasped with his orgasm.

When he’d finally begun to come down he noticed Y/n was silent still. He gradually pulled the toy out of her and gently, softly removed his cock, holding her hips steady as he watched his warm come slowly drip from her.

“You okay, Y/n? Talk to me sweetheart,” he spoke quietly as he kept his eyes on her ass.

He heard her grunt a response and he leaned around to see her face, pulling her down to her side to face him. Her eyes were closed and her face was wet. The girl was spent. He wiped at the drool at the edge of her mouth and sighed. His sweet girl.

Unhooking her wrists and the harness from her body he called for housekeeping and a new set of sheets, “Yes, just come in and change the sheets out. We’ll be in the bathroom so please just come in. You won’t disturb us.”

He knew Y/n would need a bit to come back a little. A soak in the tub would help. It usually did.

And she did come back slowly. Everything was fuzzy and felt sweet and soft as she realized she was sitting in a tub of water with Harry behind her, speaking softly into her ear, “Tomorrow I’ve got a big surprise for you. I hope you like it.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about but she finally could speak, her words coming out in a soft croak, “I know I’ll like it.”

“There she is. You’re back to me now. How are you feeling?”

Y/n nodded and smiled, “So good. You always make me feel so good.”

Harry smiled and kissed the soft spot of skin near her ear.

When her brain started to piece everything together she began thinking in the silence as she was leaning her back against his chest in the soaker tub and she was beginning to feel her limbs again.

Harry was softly rubbing his hands up and down her arms as she got the nerve to finally ask him about what had been on her mind, “What will you do?”

He sighed and put his lips to her neck, a soft peck before bending his knees and wrapping his arms around her. He knew what she meant. And he didn’t really know the answer. It was a complicated situation. Divorce could be very ugly. It could take a long time. There was a lot of money between Harry and his wife.

“I need to talk to Sean and then Romy before making any decisions. I’m not sure yet what will happen.”

Y/n hoped he’d want to talk to her about it. He had the night before. A little. She understood that he was hurt because Sean was his friend. And that was the part that he was most upset about. But she still felt like she could listen and be there for him. But of course, it was clear he wasn’t interested in talking to her about it. So she kept quiet with her thoughts.

And Harry noticed her retreating into her head. When they’d settled into bed on the clean sheets, and she pulled the covers over herself he could practically hear her brain working overtime. The chronic overthinker that she was.

He knew what she wanted but he hadn’t even had a moment to really think about it himself. And even though he could see her feelings were a little hurt he couldn’t bring himself to open up to her about it all just yet but that was only because he really didn’t want to even think about it.

He climbed into the bed next to her and reached an arm out to push her hair back from her forehead, “Don’t overthink. Okay?”

. . .

The next morning Harry picked out her clothes for her and made her eat breakfast. He helped her move around as she was quite sore. Putting her into his car he pulled out of the parking garage and began to tell her their plans.

“I’m gonna show you something right now. Then we’ll figure out a few things for how to proceed further. Okay? But I want it all to be a surprise so I’m not telling you until we get there.”

Y/n was still in a state of leftover bliss. She’d gone into her subspace the night before and slept like the dead after their bath. She was content and just happy to be with Harry doing whatever it was he wanted.

When they pulled up to a walk-up brownstone, Harry parked out front. There was a small gated-off yard, just big enough for a small patch of flowers and a shrub. He held her hand as they walked up the handful of steps to the front door.

He was quiet as he brought her inside. The place was gorgeous. Tall windows and lovely wood floors, a lot of vintage features but the place was clearly updated from the days it was built. A fireplace in the front room a kitchen at the back and stairs that led up to three bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms.

He let her explore the place. She was quiet all throughout, not quite sure what this was, and certainly not wanting to get her hopes up or jump to conclusions.

Finally, once they got to the only room that was decorated with furniture, the master bedroom, Harry spoke, “What do you think?”

Y/n turned to look at him curiously and then looked out of the window, “It’s a lovely house. I think it’s beautiful.”

Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her front, “It’s yours if you want. I started the process of buying the place not long after I met you. I intended on this being yours but given my new circumstances, I figure there’s room for us both. I don’t want you living in that shitty apartment anymore. This neighborhood is safer and closer to everything.”

She turned quickly pulling away and looked at him with shock, “What? Harry, I can’t – there’s no way!”

He tsk’d her and pulled her back into his arms closer, “You can and you will. I won’t accept no. This is for us. You will be moving in here. If you want to be with me.”

She puffed out a breath and frowned, “Harry… but- tell me what this means. I’m confused right now and… you said last night you didn’t know what you were going to do about Romy and if you’re going to continue being married to her I feel like this is too much. Right? We can’t just move in together while you’re married.”

Harry grasped her chin, “Shhh… Romy doesn’t matter anymore. She has no say over anything. I want you, Y/n. All to myself.”

She didn’t know what it meant still. Shaking her head to loosen the grip he had on her chin she spoke, “But what about you? I can’t have you all to myself, and if I can’t… then-“ she clenched her jaw and felt herself get overwhelmed. She hadn’t wanted to say any of that but the whole thing had her feeling emotional and unsure. She wanted him to herself. She didn’t want to share him with Romy or any other woman. She was in love and if he only wanted her there with him for convenience because she was some kind of plaything well her heart would simply burst and she’d cease to live.

“I’m yours, baby. I’ve been yours. I want you with me. You and me. Together.”

Being the overthinker she was, though, she couldn’t let go of her doubt and her concern, “But… you don’t want a relationship. Right? I can’t be just some-“

Harry shushed her and pressed his lips over hers as he chuckled, “I do, darling. Is that okay? You’ll be my girl. My only girl. And I’ll be your man. Whatever you want to call that. You’re so important to me, Y/n.”

She felt stupid tears rush down her cheeks. She wanted a real commitment from him and this all sounded like just that. But with worry on her face, she took a deep breath, “No one else? Like you would – be my boyfriend? For real?”

Harry grinned and pressed his forehead to hers. He knew she wanted him to say it to put her mind at ease. And the truth was that the title felt silly to him. He felt she was so much more than just his girlfriend. He was falling for her and he wanted her in his life for good.

“My sweet girl,” Harry thumbed at her tears and kissed the edge of her mouth, “I want you forever. My lover, my friend, my partner. You’re more than just some girlfriend. I’m serious about you, baby.”

Her face grew wetter when she sobbed out in a quiet cry and tried to hide her face in embarrassment. It had been all she wanted and he was offering it all to her. She hated that she’d gotten so worked up and overwhelmed but really, her reaction was quite normal. She’d always been emotional and easy to overwhelm.

Harry rubbed her back and pulled her with him to sit on his lap at the edge of the bed. He let her calm down as he gently ran his hand over her shoulders and then brought his fingers into her hair.

She appreciated that he always knew when to just sit and let her compose herself. She put her hands up to his chest and pushed back to look up at him, once again, positive she looked like a lunatic just as the night before with her running mascara and puffy face.

His green eyes were looking over her face as he cupped her cheeks, “So pretty,” his thumbs ran under her eyes to wipe at her tears, “are you okay?”

Nodding her head she put her own hands over his.

“Good. Now, how about you tell me again how excited you are about all of this? How you can’t wait to move in with me here?” he grinned.

She smiled timidly and blinked her eyes, “I’m so excited. Thank you for this.”

. . .

After going to her apartment to pack a few things up and put them into Harry’s trunk they drove to his house. Y/n was nervous, though. There was a possibility that Romy was there and Y/n would be facing her for the first time in this context.

“There’s nothing to worry about. Really. First, she’s probably not there anyway. And even if she is there’s nothing she can say or do that you should listen to. In this case, she’s in the wrong. Okay?”

Even though she nodded, she wasn’t sure.

But of course, once they got there she was not at the house. Just as he’d said.

It was a relief that they could grab the few things Harry wanted to bring with him that night to their new place. Which Y/n hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around. Everything had happened so fast and it was very unexpected. But he said he bought the place with her in mind originally.

Harry stuffed an oversized suitcase with clothes and filled a box with shoes and a few other things, “We can come back to get the rest another time. I think this is good for now.”

“Okay. So should we go?” Y/n was still nervous about running into Romy. She was ready to just leave. She’d be happy to never see Romy again if she could help it.

“Why the rush, little girl? Afraid you’re gonna get caught here with me? Hm?”

Nodding her head, she moved into his arms at his urging, “I always say this and it’s the truth. You don’t need to worry about anything. Okay? You’re safe with me. Romy is no one to be scared of. Understood?”

Keeping her eyes on his she nodded again but it didn’t help her nerves soften in the slightest. The idea that Romy could walk in at any moment was giving her anxiety. And she knew that Romy wouldn’t do anything to her and that Harry was right but that didn’t quell her being on edge.

“Here, let’s sit and have a glass of wine. Relax a little.”

The stools at the kitchen island were large and comfortable. The moment she sat down she felt the smallest bit better. Her nerves were still there but she did her best to push it down for Harry.

He turned on music from his phone connected to the Bluetooth speakers and poured two glasses of wine.

He knew they should be going. He knew that it was possible that Romy would show up. But there was something in him that wanted Romy to see him moving on. To see him with someone else so she’d know she hadn’t hurt him. He hated when there was the possibility that someone thought they somehow had the upper hand and he didn’t want Romy feeling like that. Feeling that she’d broken her husband's heart and having pity on him. That was unacceptable. So while it might have been a little deceptive of him, he stalled in hopes of stomping out any pity Romy might feel for him. He wanted her to see him happy with someone else because he was happy.

Harry moved his stool close to Y/n’s and put his hand in between her thighs with one hand and sipped his wine with the other.

Y/n realized that his hand was going higher under her dress. And Harry had insisted she not wear underwear so she suddenly felt very much like this was his plan all along. She often couldn’t decide on things or make decisions but she wasn’t dumb. She turned to look at him, putting her own hand on his, “Harry! What are you doing?”

Harry’s smirk as looked down at Y/n was telling, “Whatever I want. Unless you don’t want me to. Then I won’t. But… Y/n…” he said inching his hand up further and meeting no resistance, “I know how to make you feel good and make you forget all your worries,” he licked his lips as he continued, “How to ease your nerves and make you smile and moan. I can do that for you now. One last hurrah in the old house. What do you think?”

She was sure she should shake her head no and insist they leave but the proximity of his face to hers, his bright green eyes, his fingers on her thigh, the idea of perhaps getting caught… it felt like a yes to her so she nodded.

Harry kissed her the moment she nodded yes. His girl was so good. She was just perfect for him.

He pulled her into his lap, making her move from her stool to his, keeping her back toward the island he lifted her skirt up and peeked at her bare pussy, “I think it was a great choice to make you go sans panties.”

He slowly rubbed her clit and pulled at her to connect their lips again. He would love to just put her in his pocket and bring her with him everywhere. To work, to the gym, to boring dinner meetings… Make her quit school and just be his little accessory to fuck and play with all the time. But as his lips were slotting into hers and he felt her warm tongue swipe his bottom lip he moaned and felt the pad of his finger over her clit get a little wet. He didn’t just want her like an accessory. She was more than that to him. He truly was serious about her. Wanted it all with her.

He’d never really wanted kids. Romy had never sparked that kind of feeling in him. Never really thought they’d make good parents. But with Y/n, he’d trust her to be a mother to his kids. To take care of them and him. And he’d take care of her. His sweet girl was something special. More special and better than anyone else to him.

“Baby… You’re so good to me, you know that?” He spoke as he pulled away from the kiss while his finger continued working over her clit.

“I want to be.”

“You are. You have been. Don’t doubt how amazing you are. You’re the best. I need you.”

Y/n was still overwhelmed. This day had been completely wild to her. The new place as well as Harry’s admissions of his feelings.

When he put a finger into her entrance she sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting him to begin fingering into her in the kitchen. She was already nice and wet for him. Harry kept her back against the island and her thighs parted over his thighs so he could see. The wet sound of her pussy getting finger fucked and the sultry look in his eyes had her mind suddenly being overcome with feelings and emotions. She needed to say it.

“Daddy… I love you.” She gasped the moment the words left her mouth. Immediately regretting it but suddenly he pushed in another finger and pulled her into his chest and pressed his mouth to hers hard. The kiss was wet and sloppy just like the way he was fingering her.

She rocked over his pants and felt him bulk up under the fabric and he moaned.

Harry got dizzy when he heard those three words coming from her. They’d been on the tip of his tongue too but he was worried it was too soon. She was so young and he didn’t want her to feel more pressure or overwhelmed. He didn’t want to say it and have her run away or even worse, feel like she needed to say it back so she didn’t hurt his feelings. But she’d said it first. And now he was on top of the world.

“Fuck, baby girl. I need to have you now. You love me? Love Daddy?” He backed away from the kiss and pulled his fingers out of her cunt.

She nodded with big eyes and hot cheeks. She felt a little embarrassed, but his reaction seemed positive. Though he didn’t say the words back to her.

“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” Harry helped her off his lap and stood up as he began to unbutton his shirt, “Take your dress off.”

Y/n, as always, was quick to do as she was told. She had nothing on under her dress so the moment it was slipped over her head and dropped to the floor she was completely naked.

Harry pushed his pants down, the front of them damped from her arousal. He kicked them to the side of the stool and then pulled his underwear down before bringing his lover back into his arms, capturing her lips with his. Lowering his hands around her back and down over her bottom he ran his fingers through her wet folds from the back and his cock nudged at her pussy from the front.

She held onto his biceps as he pulled her thigh up, hitching it over his hip, and put his cock at her entrance, her back to the island.

When he’d pushed his thick head into her they both moaned and gripped one another tight as he began to fuck into her right in the kitchen.

In a quick movement, he lifted her up to the island, putting her bare bottom on the cold marble, and thrust back into her again. She keened and planted her feet flat onto the island top with her legs spread wide for his access as he fucked her.

Their lips crashed together again as he rolled his hips into her slowly. Soft gasps and pants between kisses filled the space around them.

Harry’s cock was slick with Y/n, her little cunt wet and open for him as he plunged in, his thighs working himself into her, “Fuck me, little girl. So fucking good for Daddy-“

“Oh my god!”

The screeching of Romy’s voice and then the gasp of a man had Harry stopping his thrusts. Y/n hid her face into Harry’s chest and he covered her with his arms as he turned to look over his shoulder at his wife and his best friend with jaws dropped in shock at the scene.

“Oh, hello Romy, Sean. Nice to see you two again. If you don’t mind. I’m in the middle of something here. We’d like some privacy.”

“The fuck Harry!! What is this? You can’t do this here!”

Harry chuckled and kissed Y/n’s forehead whispering to her, “Don’t worry sweetheart. Just hold on to me tight.”

“Fine. We’ll go to the bedroom over here to finish up. Don’t mind the clothes. We’ll get them on the way out after we’re done.”

Harry lifted Y/n, holding her under her thighs as she kept her face tucked into his chest. He walked them to the guest bedroom that was nearest to the kitchen and laid her on the bed before closing the door and locking it.

This was what she had been nervous about but it was worse. Because she was naked and on his cock when Romy came home. She felt her heart whacking around in her chest as Harry knelt on the bed next to her, “Are you okay, my love?”

She didn’t know. She was horny and nervous and feeling so many things so she just looked at him as she propped herself up by her elbows, “I don’t know.”

Harry nodded and laid down next to her, pulling her in close, “Relax. Okay? Can you relax? Do you want to just go? We can walk out there now, get out clothes and get out of here.”

“I don’t want them to see me.”

“Who gives a fuck about them? What do you want? Hm? Want me to continue where we just left off? Make you come on my cock? I think you’ll feel all better once you have an orgasm.”

She puffed out a laugh through her nose. She couldn’t believe this man. His wife had just caught him fucking someone and he was asking if she wanted to continue. When his hand smoothed down her side and over the curve of her hip he pulled her hips flush to his where his cock was still hard and pressed against her pelvis.

She gulped down her saliva and kept her eyes on Harry’s as he slowly moved his heavy dick through her crease, nudging her clit over and over again.

She sucked in a deep breath and felt herself tingle from excitement and from the taboo of it. Maybe this could be the thing that proved Harry was hers. He wasn’t anyone else’s. Certainly not Romy’s.

“I’m still so wet for you,” she whispered as she raised her thigh and draped it over his. Harry was taken aback by her bit of boldness. She wanted to be fucked.

“You are, aren’t you? We need to take advantage of this don’t we?” He said as he poked his bulbous head into her entrance.

Y/n nodded quickly and pushed herself down over him, causing his thick tip to drive inside of her past her muscle and she moaned quietly.

They’d never had sex in that position before. In their nearly two months of fucking, he’d never had sex with her on her side facing him. It felt intimate. They watched each other as Harry slowly moved himself in and out of her, long wet strokes, his hips snapping inward as he bottomed out to push in deeper. Her tiny yelps at the way he pushed into her so fully were hushed at first. She tried to keep her voice down.

But then once Harry found a good rhythm and he began to slick himself in to the hilt on each stroke her moans and gasps grew louder as did the bed they were on. The bed frame squeaked and their skin slapped together as they kept their eyes locked.

“Oh!!” Y/n groaned loudly when Harry pulled her hips in closer so he could grind into her, circling his hips to lodge himself into her guts.

Harry suddenly pulled out and got onto his back, pulling her over him, “Gonna fuck you like this, want to hold you close to me when we come together.”

Harry pushed himself in and dragged his cock out and then fucked up into her slowly. Part of Y/n wished the bed wasn’t so creaky but another part of her enjoyed that Romy could hear the bed frame in time with his thrusts along with her gasps and moans, and Harry’s grunts and words of praise.

He smacked her bottom and she clenched and cooed, “Ahh!”

Harry smiled as he worked himself into her. His cock was so hard and he was so turned on with his sweet girl riding his cock and hopefully the two intruders outside the door were able to hear it all. He wanted them to know he didn’t give a fuck about them. The only thing that mattered was his girl.

He felt her rolling her hips into him, her breaths deepened as he held her close in his arms, not letting up his movements. Her soft insides swallowed him as he jerked his hips up, filling her with his cock.

“Feels so good doesn’t it? Fuck! Making Daddy’s cock feel so good. So messy baby.”

And it was messy. Y/n could even feel how wet everything was between them. Every plunge of his cock into her guts had her clit rubbing at his pubic bone and the hairs above his dick. Her body was shaking as she let him ravage her and pump his thick shaft through her walls, only going in harder as he got closer to his own end.

“Yes! Feels really good,” she panted her words and Harry wrapped his lips around hers as his own thighs began to shake. She was squeezing around him so good it was making his head spin.

“Come for Daddy. Show everyone who you belong to.”

She gasped and felt heat spreading through her insides, her clit throbbing at the stimulation from him.

“Please! Oh!”

The noise coming from the room was hard to hide. The sound of slapping of skin, the bed bouncing, moans and gasps and hushed words… Of course, the occasional sound of Harry’s hand spanking Y/n’s plump bottom was heard as well.

But inside the room, the lovers could also hear how wet everything was. Y/n’s pussy was dripping and it was going to make a mess of the bed.

“Yeah? Wanna come, baby girl? Need it so bad don’t you?”

“Fffffuck! Yes!”

Pressing his mouth back over hers she suddenly stiffened and her pussy fluttered as she spiraled on his twitching cock. Her moan was loud and breathy, her mouth opened wide. Harry tried to keep his lips over hers to kiss her through her orgasm but then his own started, his spine shivering as he poured into her, his groan was vulgar, “FFfuck!”

The bed didn’t stop squeaking until Harry had finally come down, slowing the movement of his hips and the thrusts into her. Y/n was spent with her cheek pressed to his pec.

Harry tightened his arms around her and kissed her forehead, “Baby girl… you’re so fucking good. Make me come so fast. Mmm…” he smiled and planted another soft kiss on her temple.

Y/n moaned and smiled to herself. She loved him so much and she didn’t know if he loved her but she knew he liked that she loved him and so that was enough for her at that moment.

Harry slowly pulled out and rolled her to her back, “Stay here. I’ll get our clothes.”

Walking into the kitchen buck naked, Harry was relieved that Romy and Sean weren’t there. He didn’t know if they were still in the house or not but for Y/n’s sake not having them right next to the room where they’d been fucking was probably for the best.

Harry helped her put her clothes on and wiped her drippy pussy up so she didn’t make a mess in his car or on her clothes. Harry spoke softly to her, reassuring her everything was okay.

As they exited the house with Harry’s things Sean suddenly appeared, “Can I talk to you?”

Harry kissed Y/n’s cheek and patted her bottom, “Go get in the car.”

Walking back inside with Sean, he crossed his arms over his chest, “Two minutes.”

“Is that Y/n?”

“Yes. Now what is it that you’d like to talk to me about?”

Sean rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head, “Look man, I never meant for this to happen. I’m sorry. Really. It just… I don’t know. One day it just happened and I couldn’t stop it. I fell in love.”

Harry kept himself quiet as his gaze seared into Sean’s face. His best friend was no longer a friend. Even if he no longer loved Romy it was a betrayal.

“Say something. Please. We need to know you’re okay, Harry.”

Harry laughed incredulously, “Am I okay? You two fucked up. I’m fine. I’m in love with someone else anyway. Romy and I lost our love a long time ago. Perhaps if you’d just been honest from the get-go we could have avoided this whole disaster. But as it stands, you and I are done. I’ll buy your portion of the stock and you can go do what you want with the rest but I won’t work with someone who’s a liar. Someone who’s gone behind my back for, what’s it been, Sean? A year? More?”

Just then Romy was standing next to Sean, “You can’t do that, Harry. Besides you’ve been fucking someone on the side too so-“

“Oh, that’s bold of you, Romy. You’ve been cheating on me with my best friend and work partner for a year before you finally decided to let me have some fun of my own. You gave me the idea to find someone on the side. That wasn’t my suggestion. That was yours.”

“But you said you’re in love with her, I heard you. My rules were-”

“What the fuck does that matter now? Your rules were selfish. You’ve been in love with someone else all this time and you could have told me a long time ago but instead, you lied to me and cheated on me. So fuck your rules and fuck you, Romy.”

Sean and Romy looked at one another before Harry continued, “I’m leaving. I’ll have some movers come in and take a few things I want but you can keep everything else. You’ll hear from my lawyer soon. Both of you.”

Harry walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Now it felt like he could finally move on with his life and he’d have Y/n with him for it. No more wasting time waiting for anything else to work in his favor.

Getting into the car with her he didn’t want to wait another moment to say it – and while it was not the most romantic way in which to tell her, he thought he’d drown if he didn’t spit it out right then especially after having just told Romy and Sean of his feelings for her. Pulling her across the console into his arms he kissed her and then pressed his forehead to hers, “I love you so much, baby girl. You mean everything to me.”

. . .

“Hi. I was looking for Martin. Does he still live here by chance?

The guy at the door nodded and cupped his hands around his mouth, “Estes! Someone’s here to see you!”

Harry waited on the porch and looked around. It was clearly a college neighborhood. Small cheapish cars, unkept lawns, garbage bins left at the curb when they should have been moved away days ago… The house wasn’t a frat house or anything that Harry could tell. Probably just a place where rent was split between everyone living in the house.

Martin stepped outside and looked Harry up and down, “Can I help you?”

“No. You can’t,” Harry spoke as he stepped toward the guy, causing him to back up a little.

“I don’t know who you are, man. You need to leave-“

“I don’t need to do anything you say,” Harry said as he put his hand around the young man’s throat and pushed him into the wall next to the front door, “because you’re a piece of shit who likes to hurt women. Isn’t that right, Martin?”

The guy tried pushing at Harry’s chest as his face grew red, “Get off me!”

Harry squeezed harder, silencing him, “No. I won’t. Just like when you wouldn’t stop hitting a sweet young girl when she needed you to stop. You hurt her and all these years later still recalls what you did to her.”

Martin’s face was beet red as he shook his head, his hands grasping at Harry’s forearm, unable to utter a word with the way Harry’s hand was pressing into his larynx, “Her name is Y/n. Do you remember her? The prettiest and sweetest thing you’ve probably ever laid eyes on and you hurt her. You’re lucky we’re in public right now and that she’d undoubtedly not appreciate me coming here and talking to you in this manner. Because otherwise, I’d beat you so hard your fucking legs would never work again you piece of dog shit. This is your warning to keep your hands to yourself unless given permission. When someone tells you to stop you fucking stop – especially when it’s a girl. To hurt her while she’s in a vulnerable position and you’re supposed to be having fun is low and trashy.”

Harry let go of his neck and the guy immediately put his hands up to his throat and spit at Harry.

Harry was just going to leave it. He was going to give him the warning and leave but to be spat at?

Turning to face Martin, Harry reared his fist back and punched the guy in his jaw hard, cracking a tooth in the process, his rings digging into the skin and cutting the flesh.

Grabbing his neck again and through clenched teeth he spoke, “If I see you ever again I will demolish you. You’ll wish you never met her or me. You better pray neither of us ever lay eyes on you after today. Now go and clean yourself up you low-life son of a bitch.”

Harry pushed Martin down, making him tumble onto the porch as he walked away to his car, not turning back to see if he got up or not.

. . .

Y/n had never done so well in school before. Thanks to her new living situation, the man of her dreams, no stress, as well as being well fed and well fucked.

She was no longer worried about changing her major or trying to figure out what she wanted because she didn’t need to worry at all. Harry told her to finish what she’d started, to get her degree and he could help her find something after college if she wanted. And having him tell her to finish was all she needed to hear. So that was that.

Her nights with Harry were so sweet and anyone from the outside would assume very domestic. But the truth was that their sex life was only better with their new arrangement. Their bedroom was set up to play. Harry had her help him in choosing things they’d want to use. And since she was new to it all she learned as she went, Harry guiding her gently and introducing her to everything he loved.

And he knew she was kinky. He knew before he’d even fucked her. He had a feeling. But every time he tried something new with her she only wanted more. Begged him and asked lots of questions. She was curious and fun. And he loved that she was the way she was.

But he knew her all-time favorite was to be totally tied up, unable to move a muscle as he did what he wished. And with their current setup, he could have her secured to the middle of the bed, her arms tied to the bar that hung above (sometimes her legs too), and her ankles strapped down to the bedpost at the foot.

She was half suspended in the air as Harry fucked her from behind and each time he paddled her bottom he thrust inward quickly and deeply. Her shaky moans were raspy as her voice had been strained. Harry had been going at it with her for quite a while. He’d fuck her for five minutes, making her pussy throb and her body jolt as he pounded into her, but then he’d stop. Stepping away with his long, pretty cock swaying as he sipped champagne and watched his sweet girl.

“Had enough, baby girl? Or are you ready to finally come?”

The deal was that she needed to admit to Harry that she was pretty. That she was out of Harry’s league by far. He told her he wanted to hear her say it. To tell him that she was a catch. But for some reason, she just wouldn’t.

Harry walked to the bed where Y/n was tied up and leaned over her back, kissing her shoulder blade, “You have to see it, my love. So pretty and soft,” he said as he ran his finger down her back and to the curve of her bottom, “so perfect and smart. A knockout. Amazing in bed. Too good for me.”

She shook her head, lifting her neck to meet his eyes, “I’m not. You’re better in every way.”

Harry brought the paddle down to her ass again, smacking her harder than he had earlier, and she gasped sharply.

“We’ll do this all night if you want. If you insist on defying me. You know you’re being naughty right? This isn’t what good girls do, Y/n. If you were a good girl you’d tell me what I asked you to. Are you not a good girl for Daddy anymore?”

Y/n groaned and let her head hang down as she swallowed. She had a hard time saying or even thinking that she was in any way better than Harry. She simply didn’t believe it. He was her whole world and there was no way she was even close to being as amazing as he was.

Harry lifted her face to look at him as he pushed her up by her chin, “Say it. Tell me right now and I’ll put you out of your misery. Come on, baby. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

Choking out a sob she shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “No! I’m not a good girl today. I’m sorry but I can’t. I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Harry rolled his eyes and let go of her face, moving to angle himself over her again, paddling both cheeks, twice each.

She yelped and cried out, letting her head droop downward.

Harry knelt in front of her, putting the paddle down, and cupped her face, “Look at me.”

When she moved her eyes to look at him he continued, ‘Do you know how much I love you?”

She nodded. Harry thumbed at her cheeks.

“Then you know that you’re worth loving right?”

Again, Y/n nodded, keeping her eyes on his.

“Right. So you can admit that? That you’re worth loving? I want to hear you say that to me.”

“I’m worth loving.”

“Good girl. I love you. I adore you. Now repeat that to me. Tell me that you’re loved and adored.

“You love me and you adore me,” she smiled softly.

Harry leaned in to kiss her lips.

He was going to make sure she understood how amazing she was. From the beginning, he’d wanted to work on her self-confidence. They’d made some strides but she was still unsure of herself and often said things about herself that Harry didn’t like. He wanted his girl to feel happy and proud of who she was. He’d see to it that she eventually got there.

That was good enough for tonight. When he couldn’t get her to say she was amazing and beautiful in her own right, he could always get her to admit that he felt that way about her, and to him, it was a step in the right direction.

“Okay. That was good. Next time we’ll get a little further, promise? Next time you’ll tell me how pretty and smart you are all on your own. Right?”

Y/n widened her eyes, not sure if she could but she’d try. She wanted to believe him. Believe that she was everything he said. And she was becoming convinced. Because if a guy like him loved a girl like her then there had to be some truth to it.

Harry got himself back into position behind her and held her hips. Her body swayed slightly as he pressed his hips to her bottom. She was already spread out for him with her ankles tied to the bedpost at the foot of the bed.

He painted the crown of his cock through her wet crease and spoke softly to her as he pushed back in, “Such a good girl for Daddy when you want to be. Gonna make you come now, okay baby girl?”

Y/n lazily nodded her head and moaned when she felt his wide tip enter her tight muscle. Every time he thrust in her body was pushed forward and her tits swayed. Being fucked while partly suspended was unlike anything she could describe. To not be able to really use her limbs except to tense her shoulders to relieve the pressure on her joints was thrilling. She loved the way Harry handled her and spoke to her and loved how his cock sliced through her guts so deep and sharp.

Her head rocked back and forth as Harry plunged into her over and over again, long languid strokes into her wet pussy as he pinched at her bottom and spread her cheeks.

But the moment he pressed the vibrator to her clit as he continued fucking into her she felt herself snap and pussy her gripped his cock as she started to convulse.

“Fuck, baby. Coming on my cock already? Yesss, squeeze it, little girl. Fuck…” Harry was already losing it. He’d been at it with her for just over an hour. Not only was he edging her he was edging himself in the process.

Y/n was rendered speechless. She found that she was speechless often when she orgasmed with him. Especially when he’d built it up for so long. She’d come hard and it would scramble her brains. Her vision would go blank and her ears would ring.

Harry sunk into her one final time as he started to come, his throbbing cock lodged in deep, his warm sperm coating her insides as he groaned and leaned over her back.

When Y/n was being lowered to the bed, her arms released from the rope she finally opened her eyes. Harry kissed her elbows and her wrists where the rope had marked her a little and then lifted her up to bring her to the bath he’d drawn for them.

Pulling her into the warm bubbles he handed her a glass of water, “Drink.”

She took a few large gulps and then collapsed with her back into his chest.

“You did so good today. Gonna do better next time, though.”

Y/n nodded, “I know. Sorry. I’m trying.”

Harry kissed the back of her head as he spoke, “I know sweet girl. But stop saying you’re sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

She hummed in agreement and nodded her head.

“Look at how far we’ve come. From just being friends with an arraignment to being lovers living together.”

Y/n smiled, “Yeah. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Harry.”

Harry wrapped his arms tight around her and pressed his lips to her neck with a sigh, “And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You know that right?”

Closing her eyes and letting his words sink in she realized that he wasn’t lying to her. She trusted him. So why was it so hard to repeat what he said?

“Yes, I know.”

Harry grinned. That made him proud. He loved how sweet and compliant she was but he did want her to feel more confident and feel worthy of everything he gave her and of his feelings for her.

“Good girl. I think you deserve to be collared all day tomorrow. How’s that sound? Want to be Daddy’s little slave tomorrow?”

She nodded her head and hummed her affirmation. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday than to be collared and dominated by Harry Styles.

blurb-the office visit*

This is the final part to this short series! If you want more please send in requests!

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