#instead of keeping a wrong idea in my head to blow up on me later

[i-miss-breathing]

Might be a controversial take but I don’t think abusing someone and loving that same person are mutually exclusive things. Like you can love the person you are abusing and you can think the abuse is an act of love or a result of love but also that doesn’t make it not abuse or okay in the slightest. Am I making sense? Sorry if I’m not.

If you have a different view or anything you’d like to add or something please do, if this is wrong its likely I’m uneducated.

I’ve just heard the idea that an abuser can’t love their victim and it didn’t really sit right with me because it seemed like very black and white thinking, and I’ve also seen people brushing off past abuse because the abuser did genuinely care, and it showed, and “their heart was in the right place” which is also definitely not right? Again sorry if I’m not making sense here

[neonoddeye]

A lesson in physics | College! Gojo Satoru x Reader

In these trying times, I will provide: a college au! I actually wrote this as a birthday present for my best friend, but I wanted to post it here as well. It’s also my first chaptered fic, yay! I hope you enjoy :)

CONTENT INCLUDES: AFAB! Reader, cursing, Gojo and reader are both in college and everything is NORMAL and HAPPY, Gojo is a frat boy, enemies to friends to lovers, will be NSFW in later chapter (MINORS DNI)

Monday, 12:00pm

Working with Satoru Gojo on a class assignment was a horror you only conjured in your nightmares. And as you look at the physics class assignment on your laptop screen, you realize you wouldn’t be waking up from this one any time soon.

“Oh god, him?” Your roommate Shoko joins your gaze of disgust as she glances at your fate. “You’re gonna end up doing the whole thing by yourself!”

“Don’t remind me” you whine, leaning back in your chair and placing a hand on your forehead in dramatic distress. “Can I switch with you?”

“Hell no, I’m securing this A with Nanami” Shoko laughs, patting you on the back as a poor attempt at pity. “But we’ll be praying for you.”

You and Shoko had just left said physics class, the two of you lounging at the library to get a head start on the week’s assignments. You couldn’t help but truly stress over your predicament instead of starting on your homework, however: everyone and their mom knew of Gojo Satoru and his infamous Kappa Alpha frat boy title. Ever since he was on your dorm floor freshman year of college, you’ve harbored a vendetta against him. While you were immune to his mesmerizing blue eyes and undeniable charisma, most of your friends weren’t, and pursued him in droves. With every poor girl’s broken heart that he stomped on, your hatred grew, until you infamously bashed him at his frat’s party that same year. While his reputation was almost impenetrable in the eyes of his male friends, you definitely did a little damage to him from the outside. Two years later, you never thought you’d have to deal with him again- until you both enrolled in the same physics class. Hell, you didn’t even think he had the brain capacity to handle a STEM major. And now, you have to work alongside him; you can’t help but question the universe and wonder what you ever did wrong to deserve this.

“Guess I’ll get his contact info” you sigh, pulling up the list of class emails and scrolling for his name.

“Hey! Y/N, right?” You hear a familiar voice ahead of you. Your lab partner, Gojo Satoru, has already found you in the library. The devil works hard, but Gojo works harder. 

“Hey Gojo” you reply monotonously, barely glancing at him over your laptop screen. He’s dressed like a poster frat boy, wearing a dark blue knitted sweater vest over a crisp white button-up paired with slim khakis. His paper white hair is unkempt yet tamed, and his irritating blue eyes sit behind round gold-rimmed glasses. His trademark smirk is replaced by an awkward smile as he approaches you; it’s good to know your blow at his ego was permanent.

“Uh, long time no see” Gojo continues while messing with his disheveled hair, “did you see we’re working on that project together?”

You can’t help but let out a belated sigh. “I sure did. You have any ideas for it yet?“

“Oh nah, I haven’t really looked at the whole thing yet. Do you wanna start it right now? I have time.”

“Oh uh, I have to leave for class in 15 minutes.” In reality, your next class starts in an hour; you just didn’t feel like talking to him right now. Still, you keep up the act by packing your belongings to head out.

“Oh that’s all good. Here,” Gojo hands you his phone, presenting an empty contact card for you to fill out. “Let’s set up a time to work on it later. We have two weeks, but I wanna get it over with”.

“Well, that’s something we agree on” you mutter, filling out your contact info on his cracked iPhone screen. You then hand his phone back to him and rise from your seat. “I’m usually free after 4pm. Just remember to actually text me back, Gojo. I know you’re not very good at that.”

“I will, I will,” he chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender to your threat. “Promise!” he holds up a pinky and winks at you, to which you roll your eyes and head back towards the door. You’re really hoping these next two weeks aren’t as difficult as you think they’ll be.

Thankfully, Gojo actually responded, and the two of you agreed to Tuesday evening at the library. You’re currently waiting for your project partner at a cozy corner desk, taking out your notes and laptop to begin the assignment. It’s 5 minutes past the agreed upon time when Gojo saunters up to you; honestly, you thought he’d show up later or forget entirely, so you’re not upset.

“Sorry, club meeting ran a little later than usual,” he says as he slumps into the couch across from you, his legs dangling over the armrest. “I got you this, too,” he adds, sliding a Red Bull over to you. “I don’t know how long we’re working on this tonight, but I thought I’d get us both one, just in case”.

“Oh, thanks. I got something already, though,” you reply, picking up your thermos of espresso and politely pushing back the offering. “What club are you in?” It seems like you’re both attempting to make amends to make the project a little easier.

“I’m in an astrophysics club. It’s nothing much, tho”, he shrugs. We just talk about nerdy shit and occasionally do projects and stuff.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t expect that from you”, you lean back in your chair, now slightly interested in the man before you.

“Yeah, I actually do more than just party.” Gojo adds while taking out his own supplies. “Believe it or not, I’m not the same guy I was freshman year”.

“You’re gonna have to prove it to me, I’m afraid”, you retort. If he’s trying to charm you, it won’t work. 

Gojo clears his throat. “Anyway, here are some ideas I had for the project”. He slides his notebook closer to you, revealing a page full of bullet points aptly titled “project ideas.” His handwriting is messy, but legible, and as you read his notes you’re reluctantly impressed by his insightfulness and creativity. Gojo reveals that he actually stayed behind at his club to relay his ideas and ask for tips, admitting he was more interested in the material than he thought he’d be. As you lean over the table to point out one particular idea, you catch a hint of cologne from him. You can tell it’s not a cheap scent, with notes of mandarin and cypress above amber and leather. His hair is slightly neater than it was yesterday, and up close you can tell that his skin is flawless. You’re almost annoyed at his effortlessly attractive appearance; no wonder so many people fawn over him. 

An hour passes briskly, with the two of you making ample progress with the project. Surprisingly, the two of you work well together, even getting off topic a few times to discuss frivolous subjects. You learned that he likes watching cartoons and reading, and wants to go into research after college. You can’t help but feel a little guilty for holding a grudge over him for so long; it seems like he really has changed. 

After 30 more minutes, Gojo stands up to stretch. “Alright, we’re done with the outline”, he yawns, taking a sip of his Red Bull. “I don't wanna keep you too long, how about we call it for the night?” 

“Sounds good to me”, you yawn in response, closing your notebook. “It takes me a bit to walk home, anyway”.

“You’re walking home by yourself? At dark?” Gojo questions you with genuine concern in his words. “I can drive you home, if you want”.

“Oh no, I’m fine. I do it all the time”, you shrug.

“It’s no big deal to me”, he flashes a small smile. “I respect having the balls to walk home alone at night, but I’d be a dick to not offer”.

“Sure, why not. I appreciate it”. You smile back, getting up to follow Gojo to his car. As you walk with him to his car, the two of you excitedly discuss a new anime you’ve both been watching. You didn’t take him as the type to be an anime guy either, but he’s surprised you a lot today. When you get to his car, it’s as nice as you expect it to be: a slick silver BMW with a clean interior, accompanied by a new car smell. Of course he has money, too. He’s not a menace to society on the road either, and the low hum of his Spotify playlist accompanies the small talk. 

“By the way”, Gojo pipes up after a moment of silence, “I feel like shit for how I acted to your friends freshman year. You were right to call me out like that”.

“I know”, you reply, with a hint of playfulness in your tone. He chuckles in response. 

“No offense taken. But really, I hope we can be on good terms now. I had a good time, even if we were working on an assignment.”

“Unfortunately, I think I did too”. He’s pulling up to the entrance of your apartment complex, and parks neatly by the door. 

“Next time, how about we work at my place? Only if you want to though, just thought I’d suggest some place quieter”.

“I’m down”, you nod, “I could bring snacks, too”. 

“Sounds like a deal. See you on Thursday, Y/N”. He gives you a short wave as you exit his car, and even makes sure to watch you get inside safely. As you walk to your apartment, you battle with your renewed thoughts of the frat boy you once detested. After being alone with him for an extended period of time, you hate to admit that you can see the appeal; he’s handsome, charming, and seems to have mellowed out over the years. But should you really be giving Satoru Gojo a chance?

Fuck it, you might.

(Stay tuned for part 2!)

[bellysoupset]

Girl, Soup, I need to confess!!😭

I saw that question about sneezes, and all I can think about now is my adorable bby blondie's lil sneezes (Leo, if that wasn't painfully obvious).

I need to request him with a cold!!! Maybe Jon has a day off and is chilling at home, and he's surprised when Leo comes home from work early. And he realizes that Leo is all sniffly, voice a bit scratchy, and a little bit feverish. I'm not thinking full-on delirious fever, but maybe a mix of dizziness, clinginess, wanting to be babied, and even a lil bit emotional for whatever reason??? And Jon is just so in love and finds Leo absolutely adorable when he's all clingy and cute, especially with those lil cute sneezes!!!!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Oml, I'm way too in love with your OCs😭. This idea is just so cute to me!!!! Short fic or long one, I NEED this!! Leo being a big baby is my f-ing medication, Soup!!

(PS, new Aiden fic coming up soon, as you requested!!😉)

"C'mere," Jonah said, picking up JD off the floor and falling on the couch himself. The cat let out an indignant meow, but she didn't move away from him as he squirmed against the cushions, smoothing his hand over her fur. Jonah smiled, bumping his own nose with his kitten's own little triangular nose, "you're so cute," he whispered, keeping his voice low despite being alone in the house.

JD meowed again, purring and stepping on his chest so she could rub her head to his chin several times. He kissed her between her ears, "I love you too, darling..."

His heart jumped straight to his throat as the front door of their apartment opened and in marched Leo. Jonah's ears were buzzing, whole face aflame with embarrassment and he wondered how much of this uncanny display of affection his fiancé had seen. He was about to ask Leo, when the blonde let out a groan and sat in the armchair opposite to him.

He was folded in half, elbows on his knees and head buried in his hands, fingers curling at the root of his hair.

Jonah frowned, "what's wrong?"

Leo let out a groan and Jon let go of JD in order to sit up correctly and scoot closer. He was about to touch Leo's shoulder, when the blonde suddenly jerked with a series of tiny, dainty sneezes.

Jonah's jaw fell and he took one second before cackling, "how- Oh my god, that was adorable!"

"Shuduup, jerk," Leo whined, sitting up straight and rubbing at his nose. Now close enough to inspect him, Jonah could tell his blue eyes had the overt shine of a fever and his nose looked red and raw from much blowing and rubbing with tissues.

"I didn't know you sneezed like that! How didn't I know?!" Jonah exclaimed, moving closer and Leo swatted his hand away when the man tried touching his cheeks and forehead to feel for the fever, "it's so cute."

"Fuckoff," Leo slurred, before his body betrayed him again and he let out another minuscule sneeze that made Jonah smile widely, a fit of cuteness aggression causing him to squish Leo's cheeks between his hands and give him a peck. The blonde glared at him as he managed to pull back, "hope you get sick."

Jon rolled his eyes, getting up to grab the thermometer, but the minute he moved to get out, Leo wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face against Jon's stomach, "no, stay, don't go."

"I thought you told me to fuck off?" Jonah teased him, lowering his hand back down to Leo's head and petting his hair. His boyfriend muffled a groan against his stomach, which quickly morphed into a series of coughs. Still, he refused to let go, arms locked around Jonah's waist.

"-'msorry, don'wanna be alone," Leo rasped out, a moment later, his voice flickering and disappearing in between syllables, "feel like shit."

"I know," Jonah kissed the top of his head, "I wasn't leaving, I was gonna grab the first aid kit, baby."

Leo's face turned red at his own assumption Jonah was about to walk out on him and he nodded, loosening his grip, but his hands fell to the waist of Jon's pants instead of fully letting him go, "you're not mad?"

"When you sound that cute?" Jon rolled his eyes, "not even if I tried really hard."

[artemisravencourtney]

Klaroline WIP Wednesday: Those Violent Eyes Ch5

(Klaroline peeps please tell me if I'm doing this wrong, it's my first time trying WIP Wed)

TW: Very brief mentions of past SA

He muses out loud, more so to himself than Stefan, “We could imprison him? I happen to have some options beneath the manor that should do nicely for now.” “Imprison him until when? He’s obsessed with Katherine, he won’t just give up on the idea.” Klaus waves a hand, “Until it’s appropriate to kill him.” He says flippantly. “Weeks, decades, centuries, who knows?” He shoots Stefan a pointed look, then, “Your brother’s days are numbered, ripper. He lives because I allow him to, but I will tire of that eventually.” Comprehension dawns on Stefan’s face, and the hybrid realizes he’s given too much away. “Because of Caroline. You’re keeping him alive until she gives you permission to kill him.” It’s not entirely the truth, but too close for comfort, regardless. Stefan smiles then, tone friendly, “You like her.” He’s brought back to his upbringing, and Mikael’s wicked glee whenever he’d find a weakness in his least favorite son. His ‘father’ could poke at anything that touched a nerve until the words hurt almost as much as the blows, all without ever losing that hint of sadistic pleasure that came with causing his distress. Klaus won’t allow Caroline to be poked at. “Your brother is a rapist.” He says slowly, “I don’t have to like her to want him dead.” Stefan only smiles wider, eyes sparkling in amusement. “No, but you’d have to at least respect her to wait for her permission to kill him.” He raises an eyebrow at that, “Your bar for what constitutes as respect is pitifully low.” The ripper shrugs, allowing him to relax slightly (though he suspects they will be revisiting this conversation at a later date). “Maybe. Anyway, we can imprison Damon until you kill him, but that might raise some questions. He’s friends with the town Sheriff, they have lunch together every week.” He pauses, noting the scowl on Klaus’s face with a healthy degree of trepidation, “If he goes missing, she’ll catch on.” Klaus Mikaelson is not a good man. He will be the first to admit that. Not with pride, but not with shame either. It’s an intrinsic truth, one his mother knew long before he did, one that he stopped trying to outrun the day his Wolf was bound. Klaus is objectively a terrible person, a questionable brother, and a monster among monsters. He murdered his own mother, for crying out loud. But the very thought of befriending a woman like the sheriff, laughing with her while committing unspeakable crimes towards her beloved daughter in the shadows? Pretending to be her ally, while you destroy the one person most dear to her on this earth, and ensure she’s none the wiser? All for no apparent benefit, aside from blood and your own twisted amusement? Klaus is not a good man. But there exist evils he isn’t capable of. Something snaps inside of him, dark and foreboding. “You wouldn’t happen to mean Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes, would you?” At Stefan’s answering nod, he feels a startling clarity wash over him. There’s no seeing red, no fiery hatred, no bloodlust. Instead, he feels swept underwater, awash with a bone-deep chill the likes of which he hasn’t felt since his last winter as a human. Idly, he wonders if this icy, detached thirst for vengeance weaving its way through him is what Elijah feels on a daily basis. He’s always been the hot-headed, mercurial one of his siblings, and he prefers it that way, but perhaps there’s something to be said about this cold, calculating fury. “Change of plans, then. I have a much better idea.” He unlocks his phone again, scrolling to another contact, “You might want to book a hotel for tonight, preferably under a different name”, he says, typing away. Stefan says something in response, but the sound is garbled and far away as he hits send.

[i-am-minty-fresh]

To cope with the fact that I think Oda’s gonna kill Usopp, I will instead write it to, hopefully, lessen the blow. (Also happy birthday @certain-arcade-dinosaur!!!)

It’s all smoke and ash by the time the strawhats start meeting up again. The moments after war is never quite the time to celebrate, and that’s what this was…a war.

Enemies and Allies turn to piles of scorched flesh unless properly found, marked, and buried.

Luffy’s tired and after nearly 20 years of a good fight, now resting on the back of his helmsmen he should sleep quite soundly, but something keeps him fighting against the quiet of sleep.

They can’t find Usopp.

Granted they are without Robin’s Devil fruit, Zoro/Sanji’s observation Haki, and Luffy’s gravitational pull towards his nakama. The fight has left them all barely able to stand but, like always, the Strawhats have a hard time staying down even when it best suits them.

It ends up being Nami who finds him. Chopper follows the sound of Nami screaming to press a hoof to Usopp’s pulse and assure her that he is in fact alive. You wouldn’t guess that by the way that he looks.

Coated in blood, he looks sticky and uncomfortable. His face is clenched making his black eye look worse by comparison. Beside him lays the ever reliable Kabuto, matching the stubborn right to life its owner seems to have. He’s alive, but it’s bad.

By the time the rest of the crew gets to him he’s shaking, as thick tears fall down his face all while muttering something to Nami that makes her shake as well. Luffy worms his way to the ground from Jinbei’s back, and limps to his snipers side.

“Usopp! Usopp you did such a good job, I saw you taking on that guy with the big hat and it was so cool!” The pirate king places a hand on Usopp’s check so that they can meet eye to eye, “You had so many cool plants and explosions and I’m sorry I didn’t get to watch it all but you can tell me about it later, right?” There’s a waver to his voice making him sound much younger, a sound almost never heard before (dead brothers seem to draw something out of him).

Luffy looks over at Chopper, aided by Robin, who’s assessing the damage. The poor boy can barely keep himself up straight after the long fight, but something besides fatigue gets to him first causing him to collapse into Robin’s arms. He looks back at Usopp, “right?” This time it sounds even more desperate.

The crew erupts into arguments as everyone attempts to piece together what Chopper’s reaction might mean.

“We should take him back to the ship”

“If he’s really as hurt as chopper-bro is suggesting than movin’ him might not be a good idea”

“If his injuries surpass medical attention, bringing him to the Sunny might bring him comfort at the end-“

“What the hell, Boss?! You’re talking like he’s already dead! We don’t know that! We’ll find that Torao bastard fix whatever wrong! Until then, I’m with the mosshead, moving him to the Sunny has a better chance to stabilize him”

“If he’s too weak, which I think is what our young doctor is suggesting, calling Torao to our location might give him a better chance of success. I’ll see if I can locate him with my fruit-”

“luffy…”

All heads turn to Usopp, while Luffy’s foggy gaze clears up to meet his best friends eyes.

“luffy…”

His voice is scratchy, like he’s been screaming all day, and his hand shakes as it moves towards and onto of the hand against his cheek.

“luffy…”

It sounds like a prayer.

“luffy…was I a brave warrior of the sea?”

The crew’s eyes start to water, some of them looking away from the intimate moment to sob into the next closest cremate while others shake with their heads close to their chests. Nami and Sanji wail.

“Usopp-you-yes! You’ve always been so brave and I’m so happy we found you so you could have gone on all the adventures you told Kaya about and Yasopp was here too, I bet he saw how cool you were but my sniper has always been the coolest-“

“luffy…do you think I’ll see Merry?”

Zoro’s face sours as thick tears fall down his face.

“Cause…you know…she always-ways deserved a br-brave warrior to sail as her captain and you were too-o busy being king of the pi-rates-s” A bloody, shaky smile forms, “but n-n-now I can be th-tha-t for her! We’ll…find Gol. D. Rogers other treas-treasure now that this-this one has be-been found…thi-is time you…can-can be the sni-sniper, luffy! Don’t w-worry, I’ll teach you ever-every-everything I know!”

He looks over to the rest of his crew family.

“We’ll…mix it up thi-this time! Z-Zoro can navigate. Maybe we’ll-we’ll find a whole other b-blue! We’ll ca-call it the s-sword blue!”

The swordsman in question chuckles quietly. Tears still falling.

“Nami can be the-the helmsman…th-they are basic-basically the same job an-anyway”

Nami, who’s been holding his hand since she got to him, squeezes it playfully, “I outta charge you just for thinking that”

“But you won’t” He squeezes back.

She smiles fondly, “I won’t”

“Jinbei c-c-can be th-the historian…he’s old enough to ha-have lived th-through most of it anyway-“ a sharp cough cuts him off. The jostling of his injuries leaves him wincing as he settles.

“Rest, dear, help will be here shortly”

“Oh and Robin, you ca-can be the shipwright! All th-those hands you c-cou-could fix or b-build any-anything in no t-time!”

“What am I then, chopped liver?”

“Exactly! You can b-be the cook! All those mod-modif-mod-modifications you’ve got m-means you can be your o-own kitchen!“

Franky puts his big hand on Usopp’s calf, “on the go eatin’…that’s the way to live, brother”

“Don’t wor-worry, Sanji you’ll b-“ another harsh cough, this time followed by some awful wheezing.

“Usopp you have to rest, it’s not good for all your injuries” Chopper has finally calmed down enough to put one of his hooves onto the dying man’s chest. “Just wait till Torao arrives, okay?”

The hand, once covering Luffy’s own, travels towards the doctor, who moves a little closer so that Usopp doesn’t aggravate any injuries. A hand scarred with a harsh learning curve, and roughened by experience tucks itself so gently under the reindeer chin to lightly scratch at the soft fur there.

“Okay doc, you always…know what’s best…” his stuttering leaves just as quickly as his remaining energy. His body relaxes causing the hand under Chopper’s chin to fall into his lap. His eyes close.

“usopp…”

He did it. He completed his dream. He’s a brave warrior of the sea.

“usopp…”

He’s so thankful to have his crew with him. With Luffy as king, the rest of their dreams are finally in sight.

“usopp…”

He could see them all behind his eyelids. A map of the world covering the walls and floor of a house littered with tangerine trees. A bookshelf with skull and car detailing, that’s full of previously restricted history. A well-loved tome of healing whose cover is a pirate flag. A restaurant floats a top a clear blue sea, that glistens under the sun. A treaty from fishman island to the world government signed by a pink-haired admiral. Two swordsman beaten and bruised, while only one stands proud…smiling just like he used to. A whale chirping along to a conch shelf and an old friend.

“usopp…”

He wishes he could see Vivi again. He wishes he could see them all again. Vagapunk, the samurai of Wano, Leo and the Tontatto pirates, the G-5 marines, Hercules, the rolling pirates, The Franky Family, Mekao, Conis and her wacky father, Mont Blanc Cricket and the Saruyama Alliance, Laboon, the Usopp pirates, Kaya…

“usopp…”

A ring, carved by hand, sits on his desk in the Usopp factory…now left to collect dust. He hopes they’ll give it to her anyway. He’ll always love her, just like how he’ll always love them.

“usopp…”

Jinbei, Brook, Franky, Robin, Chopper, Sanji, Nami, Zoro, Luffy…

“usopp…”

Thank you for loving me

[rea-grimm]

Without illusion 1

Loki is on earth and trying to fit in among humans. His only enemy is perhaps water, which can reveal his true form. The second risk of his being revealed is his family. He hides both things very well until he is discovered.

You were heading down the street to the restaurant Loki invited you to. 

You were supposed to meet him inside. You couldn't wait. You'd known him for a little over a year, but you had a feeling he was the one. There were still some secrets surrounding him, but that didn't limit you two. 

Sure, Loki had a certain aversion to water and always carried an umbrella to keep the rain off him. In fact, you'd never been in the water together, and you lived in a seaside town.

He was very sensitive about it and didn't want to talk about it. He always found some excuse and after a while you stopped asking him about it. 

Despite all that, your relationship was going well, and after six months, Loki started calling you my queen. At first, you were taken aback and had no idea how to react. At first, you were speechless and blushing. 

Some time later, after you got used to it, you started calling him "my king." It was originally supposed to be retaliation for how he made you flustered. You totally caught him off guard. But right after that, a satisfied smile appeared on his face. He loved it when you called him that, and eventually it became a habit.

You walked up to the restaurant and stopped at the front desk. You said that you were there to meet someone and that he already had a table waiting for you.

Unfortunately, the receptionist wouldn't let you in. You had no idea why, but no matter how much you argued with him, he wouldn't let you in. You were about to give up when Loki came out of the restaurant.

"Is there a problem, my dear?" He asked, kissing you. It was clear now that you really belonged together. 

"They won't let me in, I just don't understand why,' you replied. Loki then turned to the receptionist, who then apologized to you and then added some small change to your bill. 

Loki apologized again, telling you that his queen didn't deserve such treatment, and led you to your table. Despite that little incident, you had a pleasant dinner. 

After dinner, you walked home. You walked side by side, hand in hand, enjoying the pleasant summer evening. A pleasant breeze was blowing in from the sea and you were heading for the beach. 

You were heading slowly towards the busier part of town when you noticed a commotion. People were crowded around the pier taking pictures. You walked closer to the crowd when Loki stopped. 

You heard among the people that they were merpeople. Better said, Thor and his party, who were on land looking for the Sea Prince, his brother. 

As the group of merfolk approached in your direction, Loki pulled you away, into one of the smaller alleyways. That way, you avoided the crowd. When you looked at him, he looked much paler, as if he had seen a ghost. 

"Is something wrong?" you asked, taking his hand. Loki just shook his head before smiling at you.

"It was crowded in there. We wouldn't have had the peace of mind of the two of us," he replied. You could see in him, though, that it bothered him, though he tried not to let it show. 

From there, you headed back home. At first you walked around for a little while longer, but all the atmosphere was gone with that.

Instead, you kept returning to the theme of the merfolk. They were still a mystery, even though they had appeared among humans a year ago. You got the impression that they started talking about them around the time you started hanging out with Loki.

He was quite surprised at what you knew and how calmly you took it. A lot of people were panicking about the fear of water at the time. It was also a tough year for seaside hotels and the like. 

"So am I supposed to believe in life in space or in our ocean that hasn't been fully explored?" You replied. You believed in aliens too, but this was more interesting at the moment.

In the quiet of your home, you settled on the couch and you leaned against Loki. In fact, you could almost say you were lying on top of him while he told you about the merpeople. It was surprising how much he knew about them. 

He told you about Thor, that he was more like a stingray and could produce elecrtrine in his body. They varied by species and had different abilities. Some could freeze, others could glow, and so on. 

He also told you that underwater, in waters unknown to humans, was their own underwater kingdom called Asgard. A city made entirely of gold that shone like a beacon in the dark depths of the ocean. 

"It's amazing, how do you even know all this?" You asked him, genuinely amazed. To which he just smiled mysteriously at you and said it was a secret.

1, 2, 3

[hyperfocusedcloneshipper]

Michael was reading on the couch when he heard Mike stirring awake through the thin walls of their apartment. Furrowing his brow, Michael glanced at his watch. Only 7:45. He still wasn’t used to Mike getting up before noon though it was a welcome change.

He stretched and launched himself off the couch, heading to the kitchen to throw together some breakfast. As Michael fried up some bacon he heard a door open and another one close followed by the sounds of the shower running. A bit later Mike shuffled into the kitchen wrapped in a towel and shivering.

“Y’alright?” Michael called to him while scrambling eggs in bacon fat. He glanced over to see Mike digging through a laundry basket.

“Yeah we’re just terrible at actually doing the last step of the laundry and putting it away,” Mike called back. “Is this all your stuff? Where are my clothes? Fuck. I told Boris I’d take Bruno before he left for the weekend.”

Michael snorted. “In your room, pilgrim. I didn’t put em away cause as you say that ain't our strong suit but I did put our stuff in separate baskets. You even open your eyes before you hopped in the shower? It was right by your door.”

Mike groaned and shuffled back out of the kitchen and presumably to his bedroom.

Michael was sitting at the kitchen table eating his bacon, eggs and toast when Mike walked back in. Seeing the plates of food Mike paused.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Michael asked, blowing on his coffee.

Mike shifted uncomfortably. “No just- The laundry and the breakfast…”

Michael grunted and kicked out a chair for Mike, “Just sit down and eat, you don’t have to make a whole thing about it.”

Just as Mike sat down they heard a thump from outside their apartment door.

“We’re not expecting Mikey are we?” Mike asked, looking to Michael.

Instead of answering Michael got up, went to his bedroom to grab his pistol, and then went to the door. He had a feeling he knew what he’d find when he looked through he peephole and he’d been right.

“Fuck,” Michael muttered under his breath.

“What? What is it?” Mike asked as he came into the living room.

Michael huffed a sigh. “Right. So I’m gonna send you down to Boris’s with the calculator so you-”

Mike blinked, “What? Michael what are you talking about?”

Michael pressed on through Mike’s interruption, “you better grab your plate cause your taking breakfast to go.”

“For fuck’s sake, this is insane, just tell me what’s going on,” Mike griped.

“This ain’t up for debate, grab your coat and your plate while I get the calculator,” Michael ordered, already headed back toward his bedroom.

Mike considered doing what he was told but ultimately his frustration with Michael’s caginess won out. He reached out and opened the apartment door.

“Mikey?”

Sitting on the floor in front of the door was indeed Mikey. But he looked… wrong somehow. Too skinny. His face was gaunt. It made him look older.

“The fuck are you doing? What did I tell you?” Michael growled coming up behind Mike. He pulled Mike back from the door like there was a feral animal on the other side rather than a weak and half starved Mikey.

Mikey groaned a little as he shifted his sitting position on the floor. Mike made to move forward, to help Mikey to his feet or offer him comfort, something. But Michael’s hand on Mike’s chest was firm.

“Mike, you need to head on down to Boris’s. Take Bruno for a long walk. Mikey and I need to have a chat.”

Mike shook his head, still confused as to why Michael seemed so insistent on keeping him away from Mikey. And then it struck him. This wasn’t Mikey. Not their Mikey, anyway. Dread followed quickly on the heels of that realization. “Michael, what are-”

Michael turned back to Mikey and pulled him up to his feet, half carrying, half dragging him into the apartment. Mikey groaned but otherwise didn’t protest. “Mike, you have somewhere to be and it ain’t here.”

Mike waffled for a moment before standing a little straighter. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you to deal with this by yourself. We’re a team, I should-”

“Mike, I appreciate that you’ve rediscovered a sense of responsibility lately but I’m gonna need you to go on and git for the time being. I’ll see you in a hour. Breakfast will keep.”

Feeling thoroughly dismissed and yet somehow disappointing Michael all at the same time, Mike finally did as he was told and left the apartment.

**********************************

Full fic up on AO3 and it’s part of a regularly updated ongoing series with a timeline that diverges from the original timeline a little after ep 72 (Council)! Mind the tags and enjoy!

[rennsdeaddoves]

Fanfic Summary List

ight here we go, the colour of the name is an indecation of the rating, if you need a refresher go to my pinned post.

all of the summaries are under the cut (cause this post got way long) enjoy going through them and seeing what my muddle singular cell'd brain has come up with!

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Let Me Give the Wold to You - Dragon Ball Super

Beerus x adopted dauhter oc (we love a good found family)

Summary; was it a blessing or a curse that led all of them to this? Chance or fate that made Zeno decree all destroyers should have children of their own after Goku took Goten to them. Because whether or not Beerus and Whis know it, they saved her life. 

Nishiyama Yume was one push away from death, she was balancing on that fine line waiting for the gust to blow her over, for her to rot six feet under. But it didn’t happen… she was taken away before it could, saved before the drugs could shut her down permanently. Shown compassion and nurtured as she should have been before the despair got to her. 

And now she brings life to the table, she’ll fight for what she has, or at the very least die trying but Beerus won’t let that happen. He’s fought too hard for her to leave him now, he doesn’t want this all to be a waste of time… or is it more than that?

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Queen Consort - Dragon Ball Z/Super

Freiza x oc that turns into vegeta x oc

oc is the daughter of King Cold's favourite concubine and allows her to have a child with a Sayian man of his choosing to make the perfect Concubine for his son. Freiza initially wants nothing to do with her but keeps her around cause his father asked then he realizes that maybe she is good for her intended purpose and a very toxic romance with Freiza starts. it isn't until the birth of their son Kuriza that she realizes something is very wrong when Freiza won't even let her see the child. she runs, and crashes on earth where she is found by Vegeta. things progress from there.

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This Never Ending Nightmare we must Call Life - Little Nightmares

Thin man X oc

Summary; the Maw was where they lived and where they were supposed to die. But fate had another idea and kept one alive. Those on the Maw named her Key as they thought she was the key to saving them all from this twisted world. However, a strange signal pulses in her head and she is drawn to the land, heading for a place with towering buildings and pale skies;

Key makes a journey that should have never been made in the first place. 

if you like gaslighting this is the fic for you.

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We Say When We've Run Out of Time - The Incredibles

Syndrom (Buddy Pine) X OC

no summary for it yet, but we have Amnisa, strangers - friends - lovers, and all that good stuff (including child experimentation!)

basically oc is a goverment project aiming at bringing back supers but she manages to escape only to lose her memory and end up washed up on Syndrom's island where he then takes her in.

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Rising to Our Fate - Princess Mononoke

Ashitaka x oc (yes I age him up)

Summary; working on it

basically there is a second Emishi settlement, one that has a princess. this princess is paired with Ashitaka and when nago comes she banishes herself with her husband  

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Let Me Go - It (2017)

Pennywise x OC

don't got a summary for this one but basically, back when Derry was first a settlement a group of boys tried to kill it but failed. one of the boys sisters came into its abode to check for her brother but instead all she found was thing fading ball of light.

turns out the dead lights split and reproduced after this latest feast but some were incredibly weak and regurgitated from the form. this dying dead light found this girl and made her its host.

now hundred of years later she returns to Derry Main to see what is calling to her.

(basically i just summoned all my monster fucker energy to put into this one cause we got some fucked up smut in this)

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Lies on your Tongue, Poison in My Blood - Halloween

Micheal Myers x OC

Summary; they were friends before the incident, then she forgot somehow, forgot him, them, their promise, Haddonfield, everything. But somehow she turns up in the Sanitarium, with him… 

He would remind her, whether she wanted to remember or not, he would make her remember, she needed to. So Micheal took her, and now they're both on the run and wanted.   

Micheal has a childhood friend who ends up at smiths grove too just without her memory and he takes her away. just some cute stalker / yandere behaviour here!

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Wait No Longer - Cult of the Lamb

Narinder (the one who waits) x oc

no summary, however! oc is a child of the sky (this will make sense when i explain later) she falls into Narinders domain and he finds that she actually can't die, she is untouchable by him. so he keeps her around and that about as far as i got! i just no that cute shit happens in this!!

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Determination of the Forsaken - Kung Fu Panda

Tai Lung x OC

oc is a celestial dragon of the zodiac, she falls from the heavens and loses her divine memory. Oogway finds her takes her in and teaches her.

even though this is a pretty old story (as in its been in the works for a while) that about all i got on it (srry)

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Queen's Reign - Solo Leveling

Baek Yoon-Ho x OC

Summary; Getting an E-ranking is sometimes called a blessing in disguise. Sure you won't make as much money or really be noticed but you still have the options that other hunters do. Go Ha-rin knows these options all too well and has decided to take a quiet office position at the White Tigers guild taking on the occasional E or D-rank dungeons with her closest friend Sung Jin-Woo. 

When Ha-rin finally meets the guild master by accident she realizes that it was her old high school crush, suddenly a lot of feelings are returning and she sets her sights on finally getting that date she promised herself all those years ago. 

Though, while she is pursuing love, something continues to brew in both the shadows and the light. Will Ha-rin be ready for what is coming? Can she handle the power required? 

guys solo leveling is amazing go and read it, especially for the beefy tiger man pls

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And No One Saw it Coming - Puss in boots the last wish

Death x Oc

Summary; Kitty and Perrito get to Puss while he is still stuck in the cave of souls, while death still hunts him down like a cat would a mouse, or a wolf would a cat. 

In the ensuing scuffle, the three find out that even Death can have a wish, when Goldie and Jack are dealt with, they actively seek Death out and ask if they can somehow help grant his wish. If they can help find who he longs to see again. 

Of course, Lobo scoffs at them. He’s a very busy wolf and doesn’t have the time for this, but something in the back of his mind won't stop gnawing at him and eventually, he caves, Accepting the tabi’s offer for help. 

i add some stuff, give lobo some siblings and a lot of family drama, and puss is still puss.

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Memories of Gold - genshin impact

this one is actually already up on my a03 so if your interested check it out here

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There are no Strings on Me - Genshin Impact

Scaramouch x Oc

Summary; puppets are controlled by strings attached to their joints. Everything about them is under the control of the puppet master. 

But what happens when the one discarded by their creator, meets the one that was set free with no knowledge of the world? 

Is his need to protect her an obligation or a cry for something he wishes he had when he was let go, someone that would have guided him through the world and taught him what needed to be taught? 

its been so long since i actually worked on this one, all i remember was that it was angsty as FUCK

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Frost Born - Genshin Impact

Il Dottore x OC

Summary; Life is maddening. So Il Dottore decided he’d be one step ahead of life by being even more unpredictable, it’s worked so far. Or so he likes to think it has anyway. 

But how long can he keep up before he breaks into pieces?   

Life is punishing. So Aleksandra decided that she would keep her head down and bend to anyone so she didn’t get hurt any more than she had to. Though it never worked. 

How long could she keep living like a rat?  

so i started writing this when all i had to go off of was webttore, so its been through some workshoping ever since Sumeru.

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Drown Me in that Deep Abyss - Black Panther / Wakanda Forever

Namore x OC

another with no summary, but oc is a mutant, her mutation is that when her body is immersed in water she becomes a siren and she needs to feed on blood to sustain herself properly. her mother was a wakandan spy but quit cause of her father so she goes to her mother's home in an exchange program being done at Professor X school and gets taken in by the royal family.

[rifts-of-fanfic]

Falling Rifts: The Inquisition

Chapter 2: The Demons

We jogged to catch up to Cassandra. I let the word ‘Qunari’ roll around in my head, forming the word as she had said it. Qunari. Quu-nar-ee.

“We’re getting close to the rift,” Cassandra informed us, “You can hear the fighting.” She unsheathed her sword, eyeing my staff warily as Adder and I approached. I held the staff awkwardly as I jogged, then used it as an oversized walking stick once we were back at walking speed.

“Who’s fighting?” Adder asked. Sunlight gleamed off her gold-adorned horns. She followed Cassandra’s lead, taking out her daggers and spinning them into position in her hands. The hand that was marked pulsed faintly green.

“You’ll see soon,” Cassandra replied, “We must help them.”

With that, she took off at a run across a bridge. It was adorned with burning wagons and tipped barrels. Adder nudged me, a glint of excitement in her eyes at the idea of the upcoming fight. I was less excited. The large stick that had recently been so funny now seemed like an inadequate weapon. I could hear the fighting, Cassandra was right. And it sounded as if there were a lot of participants.

Adder rushed after Cassandra, and with a weary sigh, I followed. “Just me and my stick against the world,” I muttered, then had to push down the bubbling laughter that followed. Hysteria later, survival first.

Cassandra, then Adder, disappeared behind a wall, jumping down into the fray. I heard Adder holler as she rushed into the fight, and metal clinked. I hurried to the wall and jumped down after them. A section of rift, a glowing green mess of swirling smoke, hovered above the battle. I had only a moment to look before another of those dark creatures blocked my view. It lurched towards me and I resorted to smacking it with the staff to keep it at bay.

This time, Adder had her own creature keeping her busy. She didn’t rush in to deliver the killing blow. Instead, an arrow flew past, the wind in its wake rushing past my ear. I ducked when a heard a loud clunk and another arrow flew over my head, impaling the creature in front of me. It collapsed to the ground, and I thunked it with the staff once more, just to be sure. It didn’t move, oozing into the earth and then disappearing. Only then did I look back to see the archer.

“I’m no expert, but I don’t think that’s how you use that!” The man held a crossbow nearly as large as him. Then again, he was quite a bit smaller than I expected. He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. He was very short, coming up barely to my chest. Most striking was the gold chain around his neck, resting on a bare and hairy chest that he, for some reason, left exposed to the winter air.

I blinked, gesturing to my staff, wordlessly asking if he meant I was using it wrong. But he had already loaded his next arrow, focused on his next target. I shrugged it off. Forgive me if I never learned the proper method for wielding a tree branch.

The battle continued around me, time feeling both too fast and too slow. The sparking green lights kept flashing from above, illuminating the field in that terrible glow. Those creatures sludged their way around with claws swiping at me, at Adder, at Cassandra. But we fought back. Albeit, I served more as a distraction than a true threat, but the creatures fell one by one around us until finally, the last one oozed into the ground.

“Quickly!” a lean bald man with pointed ears yelled. He grabbed Adder’s hand before she could react and pointed it towards the rift. “Before more come through!”

A stream of green came from her hand, connecting with the rift with a loud crack. The world exploded in a flash of bright light, then faded back to… normality. The rift was gone. The sky above was blue once more.

Adder jerked her hand back. She stared at it for a moment in awe, then turned to the bald man. “What did you do?”

It was then that I noticed the staff secured to his back, latched in place with a holster. It looked remarkably similar to the one I held. I made a note to watch him fight next time, assuming that our work wasn’t yet done. Also assuming I didn’t find a weapon with a pointier end anytime soon.

“I did nothing,” the bald man replied, “The credit is all yours.”

Adder shook her head. “I don’t claim credit for whatever this…” she paused, waved her hand, “does.”

The bald man frowned. “You should. Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct.” He looked around expectantly, awaiting applause, it seemed.

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself,” Cassandra added.

“Possibly,” the man agreed, then turned to Adder. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

Adder scowled, but said nothing.

The man with the crossbow approached, the only one of us with a smile on his face. “Good to know,” he said drily, “Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes.

“Varric Tethras,” he continued, turning to address Adder then me, “Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” He turned to wink at Cassandra during the last few words.

Rolling her eyes even harder, Cassandra groaned.

“Nice crossbow,” Adder responded, nodding her head towards the weapon at Varric’s back.

“Ah, isn’t she? Bianca and I have been through a lot together,” Varric said warmly, craning his neck to look back at his weapon fondly.

“You named your crossbow Bianca?” Adder asked, a tinge of humor in her voice.

I laughed, glad to have someone friendly in the group, even if it ended up being temporary. “It’s a great name.”

Varric grinned. “Of course it is! And she’ll be great company in the valley.”

Cassandra stepped in, shaking her head fervently. “Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore,” Varric interrupted. He looked smugly at her. “You need me.”

“Ugh,” Cassandra said, turning to continue down the path without a glance back to see who followed.

The bald man took a step forward, standing directly in front of Adder. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I’m pleased to see you still live.” He didn’t acknowledge that I stood at her side.

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,’” Varric corrected, “Isn’t that right, Chuckles?”

Solas ignored him, instead waiting expectantly for Adder’s reply.

“Then I suppose I owe you my thanks,” Adder replied civilly. She turned to watch Cassandra walking away, and sighed. “We should follow her.”

Rolling his shoulders, Varric said, “Well, Bianca’s excited.”

The unspoken agreement seemed to be that Bianca was the only one. The four of us walked quickly to catch up with Cassandra, and I briefly wondered how odd we must have looked. I didn’t want to assume Varric’s and Solas’s lineage, but to my limited knowledge, we looked like an elf, a dwarf, a qunari, and a human. Walk into a bar and we were the start to what would likely be a terrible joke.

Nope, hold it in. That hysterical laughter threatened to release once more. I held it in, managing to cough instead of giggle. Varric thumped my back while Solas just glanced, annoyed, in my direction. I decided I liked dwarves better than elves, if these two were any indication.

The silence as we continued didn’t last long, and I had a feeling Varric and silence didn’t mix.

“We had Qunari in Kirkwall,” Varric volunteered, “A whole boatload of them. They were your typical cheerless sort. Then they tried to take over the city and kill everyone.”

“Oh, I would nev-” Adder started.

“But I’m guessing you don’t actually follow the Qun, do you?” Varric continued. “You’re Tal-Vashoth.”

Solas had caught up to Cassandra, and the two were discussing quietly, something about the Breach, magic, and to no one’s surprise, Adder. Not for the first time, I felt bad for her.

“You’re… very perceptive,” Adder replied.

Varric shrugged. “Well, you haven’t recited a single quote from the Prophet Koslun yet. So unless you’re trying to stay on the Seeker’s good side, I’d say that’s pretty telling.”

Adder just nodded.

Undeterred by the brief moment of quiet, Varric turned to my direction. “And your accent has been bothering me. You’re from the Free Marches, right?”

I bit my lip. “Uh… yeah, Free Marches,” I agreed cautiously.

“Ansburg?” Varric asked. When I didn’t reply, he guessed again, “Ostwick? Come on, this is going to bother me.”

The mark on Adder’s hand saved me from answering. It flared brightly, crackling as it did so. Adder took in a sharp breath, wincing and faltering in her step.

“Shit, are you okay?” Varric asked as we both rushed to her side.

She waved us away, regaining her composure as her hand returned to normal color. “Fine, I’m fine,” she assured. A step ahead, Cassandra and Solas turned to watch, both with guarded expressions. Adder pushed her way past them as we climbed the path up a snow-covered hill.

Once again, we walked in silence. And once again, Varric didn’t last long before attempting to fill the space with conversation.

“So,” he started, gesturing to Adder and me, “Are you innocent?”

I glanced at the qunari and we shared a look. Then she replied, “I don’t remember.” I nodded in agreement, grateful that I wasn’t the only one.

Varric chuckled. “That’ll get you every time. Should have spun a story.”

“That’s what you would have done,” Cassandra growled.

“It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution.” Varric looked pointedly at the Seeker.

We continued on, Varric attempting conversation as we went. Solas and Cassandra were a bit less receptive, both answering with short remarks, or not at all. Still, the dwarf didn’t give up. It was almost a relief when we reached the top of the hill and saw another smaller rift before us. A small group of soldiers were already there, pushing back against the demons, but they were outnumbered.

“We must seal the rift quickly!” Solas said, echoing what we all were thinking. As Cassandra and Adder ruched into the fray, he took the staff from its position on his back, wielding it with both hands. To my surprise, when he swung it at the empty air, a spark of cold blue magic erupted from the large gem at its tip, careening through the air at the closest demon.

“Oh,” I murmured. Okay, so not just a big stick. A big magic stick. Good to know, sure, but not entirely useful to me.

Varric started firing arrows from his crossbow, holding the demons at bay from both himself and Solas. At this point, I was entirely fed up with the whole demon thing. I held my staff experimentally, mirroring Solas’s moves. I willed it to send out fire or ice or anything.

Nothing.

Resigned to whacking demons over the head with the staff, I sighed and took off to Adder’s side, where she had two demons crowding in, and a third on the way. Not that she needed help, as I could clearly see, as she spun around striking daggers at the demons. They couldn’t even get a scratch in. Still, I rushed in from behind and bopped one of them on the head with my decidedly unmagical stick.

The fighting played out as before. Demons rushed in. We, or more accurately, Cassandra and Adder, struck them down, and they melted away. Arrows and ice flew from Solas and Varric, wounding or killing the remaining demons. And then, it was over.

“Use the mark!” Solas shouted as he and Varric jogged nearer.

Looking as if she’d rather be fighting more demons, Adder uncertainly raised her hand above her head, pointing her palm to the dancing green light above us. She frowned when nothing happened, closed her eyes tight and tensed. Then, the stream of green shot from her hand like it had before, connected with the rift, and exploded into blinding light for a moment before all the green disappeared completely. She slowly opened one eye, then the other, and lowered her hand, letting out a sigh of relief.

Finally, we all took a moment to catch our breaths, collecting ourselves as a group. The moment didn’t last nearly as long as I had hoped.

Solas stepped in front of me, one hand on his staff as he used it like a walking stick. “You are no mage,” he said coldly, “are you?”

I shrugged helplessly. “I never pretended to be,” I defended, “Just couldn’t find a pointier weapon.”

“Come on, Chuckles,” Varric teased, “I think more mages should use the ‘whack them on the head’ method.”

The bald elf grimaced. “Indeed,” he said drily.

Through the gate, we were met with a stone bridge teeming with soldiers and supplies. Cassandra urged us on, leading us toward the Breach now that she and Solas had been assured that Adder could indeed help.

Of course, with the day we were having, crossing a bridge never seemed that simple. At least, I thought, this one didn’t blow up.

Halfway across, Leliana, the woman in the hood from Adder’s interrogation, stood arguing with a man in white and red robes. As we approached, the man abruptly turned to our group and yelled, “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.”

Cassandra took charge, storming right up to the man as she replied, “‘Order me’? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug,” the man shot back, “But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

“Should have brought popcorn,” Varric muttered, just loud enough for Adder and I to hear.

“This is stupid,” Adder hissed, then loudly added, “I’m right here, you know.”

The man glared at her, his eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t even be here!”

“And yet,” Cassandra said icily, “She has done more to help with the rifts than anyone else.”

“Because she caused them!” he retorted.

“Enough, Chancellor,” Cassandra warned, “We must get to the Breach. We can take the quickest route, charge with the soldiers.”

Leliana stepped forward. “But it’s dangerous. Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

The Chancellor threw up his hands. “You’re both insane, harboring a criminal! End this madness now!”

“Enough,” Cassandra repeated. She turned around to look at us. “We need to decide how to proceed. Adder, how do you think we should proceed?”

“And what am I, chopped liver?” Varric muttered.

Adder looked from Cassandra to Leliana, and back again. “You’re asking me?”

Solas leaned in. “You’re the one with the mark.” As if that explained everything.

“Fine,” the qunari replied, “We charge with the soldiers. Whatever happens, happens now. And if I don’t make it to your trial, you can rest easy knowing I died falsely accused.”

Cassandra nodded. “Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone.”

The Chancellor crossed his arms. “On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”

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[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR CHARACTERS X READER, “WHERE IS MY TREAT?”

summary: you pavlov them, using psychology to make them obsessed with you. What happenes when you stop?

warnings: needy hot faes, confusion, mild nsfw(like barely), mentions of hook ups, kind of psychological manipulation from reader, fluff and comfort, cassian is so cute in this i’m kind dying

amara’s note: I saw this tiktok and I HADDD to make a fic based on it. I was originally gonna make it into only one person but I thought why not all of them🫨🫨 the tiktok -> link

RHYSAND

You and Rhysand make quite the duo at work. He saw your talent for persuasion in the Court of Nightmares and decided to recruit you. Now, you're partners in crime, tackling whatever schemes Rhys has in mind.

There's a lot of tension between you, so naturally, you end up meeting for secret dates.

You try to experiment on Rhysand, giving him little treats whenever you're done hooking up.

At first, he thinks you're joking with him when you give him a piece of candy every time you're done and tell him how good he was.

But you keep this up forever and he becomes used to it.

Like his brain automatically connects making you happy to getting treated, so he doesn't even realize he's expecting something until you one day don't give him a candy and reassurance.

Now this man is trying to make it seem like it’s not affecting him so he casually asks you.

“No treat this time, darling?”

He might seem aloof but bro’s panicking inside bc he is worried he did something wrong. Aren’t you proud of him? Didn’t he satisfy you? Why wasn’t he rewarded?

His thoughts come to a sudden halt as his ears perk up, capturing your laughter.

It's in that moment he realizes the emotional grip you have on him

Rhysand, accustomed to anticipating danger and ambushes, is taken off guard by this unexpected psychological play.

“I’m always pleasantly surprised by your cunning mind, love.”

Bro’s amazed and kind of intrigued. He asks you all about the technique and tries it on some evil ppl later

AZRIEL

You and Az hook up secretly because you both are very stressed and need some relief.

Instead of candy you always give him a hug and kiss and tell him “good job” before leaving. And it’s always the same order and the same phrase

At first he thinks you’re just being cute and happy for the orgasm, but he realizes that you do it even when you blow him or something

So he gets used to it, subconsciously awaiting a hug, kiss and a good job whenever you leave

He loves the sex and all, but the part that makes him happiest is when you tell him he did really good, even his shadows perk up and lazily swirl around you too

One day, you’re getting eaten out and when azriel makes you cum and then helps you get cleaned up, you just leave and say goodbye

He stands there frozen, literally having no idea what to do.

Azriel is so used to getting praised and hugged and getting lots of kisses after and now you’ve just left him with nothing.

Confusion fills him and he just follows behind until he’s caught up with you

“Have I done something? Why didn’t you hug me or give me a kiss? Did I not do a good job?”

You turn around, tilting your head and smiling slightly

Only then does Azriel realize you got him hooked. The second he sees your smile he understands that you were aware of his subconscious obsession with your praise

Azriel realizes that you’ve been secretly playing him and he gets shocked.

He catches you off guard by letting out a laugh. You’ve heard him laugh plenty before but this time it was a real heartwarming one that made you freeze

“You conditioned my mind like it was nothing. Kudos to you, love. I really didn’t see this one coming.”

CASSIAN

You are Rhysand’s cousin and join him in Velaris where you meet Cassian.

You both become interested in each other and begin to sneak around

You have a brilliant plan where you want to see if you can make Cassian obsessed with you

So you begin giving him little chocolate bars after your done hooking up with him, praising him for pleasing you

You often sit there watching as he eats the bar in one bite with a smile. The way he keeps eye contact with you, makes you want to go another round but you never give him more than one bar.

Cassian doesn’t recognize that his mind is relying on you for regularly getting rewarded and it becomes a routine for months until you one day don’t give him anything

His expectant self sits on the bed, holding his hand out for the bar that won’t be coming.

“Where’s my treat, sweet girl?”

You laugh at his curious words and his smile drops, realizing that he’s basically getting trained

“What the hell did I just say?” he whispers to himself

Even though he is confused, he still wants something. He still craves any sort of attention instead of your leaving

You notice him spiraling and feel bad for him and get closer

“Cassian, I’m sorry that wasn’t nice of me. You did very good. Here.”

You hand him a chocolate bar, giving him a sweet kiss as an extra apology and store this memory in your mind

ERIS

Eris didn’t know how much he loved your praise until you stopped giving it to him

For several years, you had been falling in each others bed when wanting comfort in a tough life.

Each time you patted his head, giving him a caramel and saying thank you before leaving

At first he thought it was strange. He wasn’t a child nor was he used to getting praised so it was something new that caught him off guard

But as time went by, and you kept it up, he got used to it and actually grew attached to the attention and praise he wasn’t given by his anyone else.

So when you wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t, he got confused and disturbed

He didn’t immediately clock what was going on. Eris had made you cum so you were leaving. This time you just said goodbye and left

Eris should have felt warm and fulfilled but he didn’t. There was something missing and he didn’t like it, he didn’t like it at all

He tried retracing his steps and think back to every single time you were over. What was different this time?

He did make you cum, you were screaming his name and you certainly weren’t mad or anything.

So what the hell was making him feel so down?

Eris’s tounge moved in his mouth looking for the sweet treat he would normally get at this hour. His body had become used to sucking on a caramel candy around this time like clockwork

It clicked that you hadn’t given him the candy, so he stood up and went after you. Eris caught you smiling as you went down the stairs and asked you to stop. Maybe if you gave him the candy, he’d feel better,

“Were you left unsatisfied?”

“No Eris, why do you think that?”

“You didn’t tell me I was doing good and you didn’t give me my candy.”

You try supressing your smile, positive that Eris wouldn’t really appreciate you laughing in his face

“ Interesting. Do you want me to praise you, Eris?”

Eris starts blushing unwillingly. Had he really been so desperate for praise? It was always nice coming from you so he gave a small nod

You laugh and tackle him in a hug

“Sorry Er, you were so good. Here, eat this for me.”

His lips twitched and accepted the candy before throwing you over his shoulder and getting you back to the bedroom

“You were messing with me, weren’t you? I guess I’ll have to set you straight, little mastermind.”

LUCIEN

Okay, with Lucien, you meet him on one of his many adventures

You’re both exploring different courts of Prythian and decide to travel together

After sometime you become closer and closer and one drunken night, you fuck

The next morning, none of you regret it and decide to keep hooking up

You decide to conduct this little experiment on him that you read about in a book

After every time you hook up, you tell him he did good and ask him if he wants to grab some food together and everytime Lucien says yes bc he’s literally in love w you

This tradition goes on and on until you one day cancel

Lucien gets disturbed by this.

A million thoughts were going through his mind. Didn’t you want to share a meal with him? Did he make you uncomfortable by chance?

His whole mood turns upside down,

“Where are you going, aren’t we supposed to eat now?”

“Are we?” you smile grows as you look at his face change from desperate to contemplating

Lucien lets out a laugh, realizing your game

“You’ve got your hooks in me, that’s for sure.”

FEYRE

Feyre knows that she gets rewarded when she gives you pleasure

She knows that you give her a little something each time

Whether it be a hairclip, new makeup products or some sort of sweet treat

You always hand her something, so has her mind set on waiting for her reward now that she has finished you off

After fixing you up and helping you get dressed, Feyre excitedly also get dressed, hand reaching out

Only, this time you give her a smile and turn around

Feyre’s brows furrow, confusion taking over at the lack of affection and gifts

“Wait, don’t leave, where’s my reward?”

“What reward, Feyre?”

In that moment her jaw closes as she realizes that you have her practically begging for a treat like some sort of dog

There was no verbal agreement between you that she was to receive gifts everytime but her brain had gotten used to it

You smile at her confused face that morphs into a pout

“You prick, don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’ll get you as many candies and hairclips and pretty dresses as you want.”

Feyre huffed and rolled her eyes whole supressing her smile.

She only melted when you stepped closer and gave her a loving kiss on the forehead

NESTA

Okay so with Nesta, the whole pavloving her would have to be accidental bc i don’t see any universe where she’d be cool with you playing mind tricks on her like that💀

Y’all are hooking up and after every single time you get cleaned up by her, you ask the same questions, no matter how tired you are

It’s always, “how was your day, did you eat, any new fun books you’ve read lately, how are Feyre and Elain”. Basically just checking in on her

This is something Nesta has gotten used to

It warms her heart and basically you become a soft spot for her

One night, you’re too tired and pass out bc she had fucked you STOOOOOPID😮‍💨

anyways, she starts telling you about her day and subconsciously answers all your usual questions only to be met with silence

it disturbs her so she looks at you and notices you’re passed out and even though she understands (it’s her fault you’re asleep rn) she still gets a sad feeling because she was really excited to see your reaction and your little nods as you listen to her

So, she wakes you up. Nesta knows it isn’t really nice and that you need the rest but she can’t move on, can’t fall asleep unless you talk to her and listen to her answers.

“Hey, wake up. Can I tell you about my day?” she whispers and it immediately wakes you up. No fucking way were you missing this opportunity

“Yeah, sorry I fell asleep. Please, go on. Tell me everything.”

Something in Nesta heals at this. She marvles at the fact that you fall back into your routine so quickly

ELAIN:

I believe it’s the same with Elain, it has to be accidental bc idk if she would trust you again💀

You always go out for a sweet treat after sex

Like clockwork, every single time.

You always get her a strawberry and vanilla ice cream cone and you get a chocolate and vanilla one.

Elain’s brain has recognized the pattern of your actions as a reward for a good time

Even when she’s out with other people and eat ice cream, she always thinks of you

After one particular hook up, you have to leave and tell her that you’re being summoned by Rhys and Feyre for a meeting

Elain gets so thrown off by this, like her body has gotten used to getting a little sugar rush after sex so she becomes all sleepy instead

It surprises her how little energy she has and how much she craves that damn ice cream cone

When you come back, she tells you she went out and got ice cream for you both and you ask her why

“Don’t get me wrong Elain, I love ice cream. But why did you leave so late for it? We could have gotten some tomorrow.”

She doesn’t know what to say because you’re making sense. She didn’t have to get ice cream but it felt wrong without it

“I think you have conditioned me somehow. Everytime we have sex, I need something sweet and I blame you.”

You giggle at her fake irritation and kiss her temple, feeding her some delicious dessert

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[waitineedaname]

okay more complex thoughts time

FUCK!!!

stories that change how you think about stories!!! i am changed forever!!!!! god!!!!!!!! i am already so weak to the idea of art and fiction being the way we connect with other people, so orv fucking came for my KNEES.

i was somewhat prepared for it to hurt me with the metanarrative stuff, but I was NOT prepared for the theme about suicide. at first it's like haha kdj keeps killing himself for his companions, what's wrong with this guy, and then as it goes on, more and more of the kim dokja layers are peeled away and it's like 😧 oh you have been deeply unwell for a long long time.... the bit when ysa asks what he'd be doing if the scenarios had never happened and his first thought is "well twsa would be over so i'd probably be dead" fucking KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT. it's such a flippant thought and it feels so real. it's like oh... you've always wanted to die, but now there's a Purpose to it (saving his friends, even if they are DEEPLY traumatized every time he does this)

circling back to ysa, i guess now it's time to talk about specific characters instead of themes. I LOVE YOO SANGAH!!! she was such a sleeper agent of a character for me. she was introduced at the beginning and i was so convinced she'd die early, and then a couple hundred chapters later she's making me CRY. i love her relationship with kdj, they have such an insane qpr vibe and im obsessed with them. i think about that conversation where kdj has that suicidal thought, and then ysa is like "obviously we would still be friends, we would call each other and pick up hobbies together and grow old together and we would live in a big house together with all our friends" and that thought is what motivates kdj going forward. I'm going to be ILL!!!!!

gonna start getting into spoilers, so that's going under the cut

OTHER CHARACTERS THAT MAKE ME ILL: YOOHANKIM!!!!!!! AUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew they'd have some cosmically entangled bullshit as the writer/reader/protagonist, but I was NOT PREPARED FOR EVERYTHING THEY HAD GOING ON. CHRIST. the bit that I can't stop thinking about is when they're trying to rescue him from being the oldest dream and han sooyoung can't reach him, so she WRITES YOO JOONGHYUK INTO EXISTENCE. THE PROTAGONIST BRIDGING THE GAP BETWEEN THE WRITER AND READER. I'M GOING TO BASH MY HEAD INTO THE WALL.

the oldest dream stuff made me SO unwell. kdj having to be PHYSICALLY RESTRAINED from killing his younger self. that image is HAUNTING. the idea of him in his demon king form thrashing against everyone holding him down, terrifying this child version of himself. the bit when he tries to STAB HIMSELF IN THE NECK. JESUS CHRIST DUDE. the fact that everyone (especially secretive plotter and the 999 crew, who have suffered so much) sees oldest dream, sees that it's kdj as a frightened and abused child, and they understand that all this happened because it was the only thing keeping him alive? and they forgive him? they feel sympathy for him? and secretive plotter and the outer gods leave with him to raise him? meanwhile kdj is being perhaps the most actively and violently suicidal we've seen him be? im gonna be sick.

im running out of steam for this post bc im coming out of the hyperfixation fugue state that got me to read a 1.3 million word novel in (checks calendar) two and a half weeks, but my brain is full of bees. im sure i'll have more thoughts to share soon but AAAAAAAUUGHGHGHGHHGHGH. i understand why the end of the novel was open ended and i know the implication is happy, but i need to find some post-canon fluff NOW! IF THEY'RE NOT ALL LIVING IN A BIG HOUSE TOGETHER I'M BLOWING THIS WHOLE PLACE UP

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[marauderundercover]

Hanging by a Thread (3)

Prev

Throughout dinner, Tim tries his hardest not to stare at the Manor’s newest residence, but it was hard. Especially with her sitting right between Bruce and Damian. Pursing his lips, Tim wracks his brain in an attempt to remember any of the confidential information he’d glanced at before blowing up Ra’s bases a couple years ago. Nothing was coming to mind. In his defense though, he was more focused on bringing Bruce home and less focused on the possibility that Bruce and Talia had another kid together. And one younger than Damian. Subtly glancing at his younger brother, Tim frowns. Neither Damian nor the new girl had made any attempt at conversation with the other the entire time. But if she was younger, surely they knew each other?

“So, Marinette, Alfred tells me that your parents own a bakery in Paris?” Bruce says suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Tim’s eyes narrow. Did Bruce not see it? Glancing over at Jason, Tim raises an eyebrow. The older man shrugs, visibly fighting off a scowl. The girl, Marinette, nods slowly.

“Um, yes. It’s why they didn’t leave Paris, too.” She says, frowning down at her plate. Tim frowns.

“Is something wrong in Paris?” He asks. Marinette’s eyes widen slightly, scanning the room until she spots Alfred. He gives her a small smile.

“I didn’t share the details your grandmother gave me with anyone other than Master Bruce, Miss Marinette. It is your choice if you wish to talk about it.” Alfred says, his tone gentle, but a clear warning in his eyes. Tim fights the urge to scowl. He’d just look at the info in the Cave later if he had to. He wouldn’t interrogate a kid. Well, he would but not in front of Alfred-

“There’s uh, a villain? In Paris now.” Marinette says softly. Everyone’s attention snaps to her.

“Just one?” Damian asks, eyebrows raised. Marinette’s eyes narrow and her gaze turns cold.

“Oui, but we’re not Gotham. We don’t have experienced heroes. We have two people who showed up right after the villain. Two people who obviously have no idea what they’re doing, by the way.” She huffs out, glaring at her plate.  

“Has no one called the Justice League?” Damian presses. Marinette looks up at him and scowls.

“We did. The first day that Hawkmoth was there, almost everyone in Paris called, but no one came. No one. And once we figured out what Hawkmoth does, the Mayor ordered that no one else call the League.” She says, stabbing at her food instead of eating it.

“Marinette,” Dick says softly. She glances up and Tim’s slightly taken aback to see her eyes were bright with tears. “You don’t have to talk about this.” He adds. She frowns, her shoulders slumping as she closes in on herself.

“But that’s the whole point of me being here. So I can talk about things and be frustrated and upset without getting turned into a villain.” Marinette says.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jason asks, voicing what everyone was thinking. Marinette blinks.

“Hawkmoth controls people with negative emotions.” She says flatly. “That’s why my parents sent me away. It’s why the Mayor doesn’t want the League coming in. Any negative emotion: sadness, anger, frustration, anything. It can be used against you.” Tim frowns, a million possible plans running through his brain as he tries to think of a solution.

“And yet, your parents thought they should stay. Do they think they can resist this, Hawkmoth?” Damian asks, and Tim purses his lips to keep himself from saying anything. Damian’s questions were valid, but if the look on Marinette’s face was anything to go on, he was obviously pressing the wrong buttons.  

“They said they just needed to protect me. Apparently when they- when they took me in,” She pauses, her gaze growing distant as she sets down her fork. “Apparently, they promised my birth mother that they would protect me and keep me safe. This was them keeping their promise.” Tim makes eye contact with Jason across the table, tilting his head towards Bruce (who was still obviously suddenly oblivious). Jason nods, and Tim feels his shoulders relax slightly. If anyone could push Bruce’s buttons enough to make the man admit that this was clearly his daughter, it was Jason.

---

“So Marinette is obviously your kid, right?” Jason says bluntly, arms crossed as he stands next to the Batcomputer. Bruce glances over at him and frowns.

“I didn’t even adopt her, Jason. She’s here as Alfred’s guest.” He says. Jason blinks.

“Are you seriously telling me you don’t see the similarities?” He asks. Bruce raises an eyebrow.

“Similarities between?”

“You, Dami, and Marinette.” Dick says, applying his mask glue as he walks over. “You can’t honestly tell me that all those glances at Marinette during dinner were just because you’re worried about her villain situation.” He adds. Jason narrows his eyes.

“B, were you gaslighting me?” He asks. Bruce rolls his eyes.

“I was not gaslighting you, Jason. I just- well-” He tries, but Alfred cuts him off.

“He was instructed not to do a DNA test on Miss Marinette without her explicit consent. She is my guest here, and will be respected as such.” He says, his tone firm. “Her grandmother is one of my dearest friends. She told me that Marinette was not aware that she was adopted until shortly before she came here. If she decides she wants to find her birth parents, then I will allow a DNA test. Otherwise, leave her hair on her head.” Jason’s shoulders slump. He may be a reformed crime lord, but even he wouldn’t go against a direct order from Alfred. Even if he wouldn’t let them do a DNA test on Marinette, there was no doubt in Jason’s mind that the kid was related to Bruce.

“Are you saying that you believe that girl upstairs is my sister?” Damian asks, suddenly appearing, arms crossed.

“You can’t honestly tell me that you don’t see the similarities, Damian.” Tim sighs. Damian scowls.

“There are no similarities. You are simply seeing things.” He says, sticking his chin up. Jason snorts.

“Kid, I would literally eat my boot if that girl isn’t related to Bruce.” He says, holding his hands up in surrender when Alfred opens his mouth. “I didn’t say I was gonna do a test or anything. Just that if it happens at some point, I’m not gonna be surprised at the results.” Alfred quirks an eyebrow, but leaves, probably to check on Marinette before she goes to sleep.

“Do you really see the similarities too?” Bruce asks quietly, looking intently at Jason and Dick. Jason nods immediately.

“DNA test your first instinct when ya met her?” He asks quietly. Bruce nods.

“Alfred forbade it right away.” He says with a frown. Dick frowns, looking thoughtful.

“You may not like it Bruce, but why don’t you just call Talia?” He suggests quietly, stealing a glance at the Demon Spawn who was beating the shit out of a practice dummy. “It’s about time for her to make a trip to stalk Damian at school anyway.” Jason nods at Dick.

“He has a point. You know she makes a point of checking in every couple of months. Just expedite the process.” Jason says with a shrug. Bruce purses his lips, but nods slowly. Silently, Jason hoped that Marinette wasn’t Talia’s kid. Just because he knew it would upset Bruce, and probably Damian. And once Marinette found out, she’d probably be upset too. Especially since Talia kept Damian til he was eight, and she obviously didn’t keep her. Jason drags his hand over his face and sighs. Things just got complicated.

Next

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[watchmegetobsessed]

THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

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

[ladyartemesia]

Since I'm in love with your writings and your taste in reading too. I know that your favorite is Brother's best friend or Best friend's brother, I would like for you to recommend me some of them please ❤️❤️🙏

꧁Brother’s Best Friend꧂

Clandestine by @junghelioseok is fantastic. Jeon Jungkook is the best friend of the reader’s slightly younger brother. He’s sexy and charismatic and DEFINITELY knows what he wants. The growth of his (clandestine) connection with the reader is utterly delicious. This one made me laugh and swoon.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx is basically legendary in my book. The lady in this story is not only Hoseok’s best friend’s sister—she is also his BOSS’s sister and by boss I mean mafia. This is the first installment in Ana’s amazing Rap Line Mafia Universe and it delivers on every level. Hoseok is tasked with protecting the boss’s sister after she is being threatened by sinister forces unknown and sparks fly.

Plums and Melons by @winetae is THAT FIC. The fic I just daydream about sometimes. It’s a fic about two people caught hard in eachother’s gravity. It’s so sexy and cerebral and the main characters are so hot. Jimin is just a guy trying to live his life, but whatever is brewing between him and his best friend’s sister is driving him insane. He wants to be a good guy, but she just isn’t playing fair.

Are You Sure? by @cutechim is such a swoon-worthy and touching piece of wonderful. I tell you I was MOVED. This is beautiful and emotional and EXTREMELY satisfying. Taehyung’s best friend has a sister who he has always secretly adored. When she comes to him and asks for some intimate experience, he isn’t strong enough to say no—not when she’s everything he ever wanted.

Drivers License and Detour by @gyukult is sweet and tender and just a fantastic coming of age story. The reader has been in love with her brother’s best friend, Park Jimin, for almost all of her youth... but what is going on in his head?It’s a tender story that really warms the heart. AND I am happy there is more coming. I would read about these two all day. She published the second part and oh my gosh it’s so incredibly perfect I could scream. This was just such a beautiful journey every step of the way.

Milestone by @1kook is probably one of the first brother’s best friend BTS fics I read and it is amazing. I adore it so much. Because Jungkook is your brother’s best friend he is there for every milestone in your life. But you’ve both grown up now and neither of you are kids anymore. It’s hot. Like really hot. Dialogue and set up are so sharp and fast paced I really loved every second.

Young God by @njssi is scorching hot smut with complicated feelings and warm revelations. You think it’s going somewhere and then it goes somewhere else and honestly it is so awesome the whole time. Jungkook was always your brother’s sweet little friend, but he’s returned determined to show you that he is all grown up.

Tease by @caiuscassiuss floored me. I loved it so much! I spent the whole story just squealing happily about everything. This story has it all. It’s scorching hot. It’s enemies-to-lovers. It’s Taehyung. Jungkook’s sister and Kim Taehyung do not get along AT all—so she decides to bring him to his knees by making him desperate for her. It’s a wild and completely awesome ride.

Wasabi by @ironicarmy is a classic. Hobi is a bad boy that Namjoon vehemently refuses to let near his precious baby sister. But love is too strong a force and soon Hobi and the clever object of his desire decide that some things are worth fighting for. It’s a really sweet story of facing challenges and relying on the people you love. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound, but it’s also super hot.

Forbidden by @btssmutgalore is a masterwork blueprint for this trope. Hobi is a carefree player who falls brutally for Taehyung’s sister. They two of them eventually give in to a VERY steamy series of secret encounters and feelings get very involved. This is hot, suspenseful, and emotionally satisfying. Excellent characterizations as well.

Prohibido by @personasintro is an office AU with a twist. Namjoon is not only her brother’s best friend, he is also her boss and the two of them have incredible chemistry. Watching them pretend that they’re not insanely attracted to each other is so endearing and hot. Reader is convinced her feelings are one-sided. It’s lovely and fun. Definitely a slow burn, but worth it.

Strawberry Kisses by @kimnjss is a fic that I devoured in one sitting and then re-read again immediately. Jeon Jungkook is a player who matches with a girl on a dating app and has no idea she is the sister of his revered mentor and close friend, Min Yoongi. I laughed. I cried. I GASPED OUT LOUD a bunch. It was a whole thing. This is a hybrid social media/written AU and it’s pretty much perfect.

Tempestuous by @ppersonna is so special to me because it was written at the very beginning of my friendship with Lindy. She was looking for requests and I was quick to request my favorite trope. Lindy is bae now and this fic she wrote is marvelous. You are forced to spend the weekend in the same house with your sexy arch-rival Taehyung who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend. Naturally snarky hotness ensues.

Off Limits @floralseokjin is basically a famous entry when it comes to this trope. It’s a Jin fic and Miss Jordan writes EXQUISITE Jin characterizations. There is a hint of mistaken (or unknown) identity in this one which makes it even more fun. Sparks fly between you and a devilishly charming Kim Seokjin at a party. You don’t find out until later who he really is—and why he’s off limits.

And finally I’ll recommend my own Brother’s Best Friend fic All I Want for Christmas is You featuring a charming Taehyung who falls for Jimin’s sister. Jimin basically blackmails his best friend into escorting his sister to several holiday galas. Tae and Jimin’s sister have never gotten along, but they soon discover (through multiple pranks and mishaps) that love (and desire) are out of their control.

Not Your Fairytale by @yeojaa is incredibly sweet and tender. Erin really does emotion so well and her Yoongi characterization is honestly so nuanced and brilliant. This story is about a girl who had her heart broken and instead of canceling the cake tasting she scheduled with her philandering ex-fiancé, she wrangles the tsundere best friend of her brother to pretend to be him.

Brother’s Best Friend by @bts-hyperfixation is a short and sweet moment between two people who have been fighting their attraction for each other. It is so hot and delicious I tell you. You’re in trouble and the person you call is probably the person you shouldn’t—but you aren’t the only one willing to take a risk tonight.

Off Limits by @kaddiiction will break your heart and put it back together again. This one was recommended to me by a reader and I cannot thank them enough. It is fantastic. Jimin is a player but he crosses the line when he begins a liaison with his best friend’s sister. Still there is far more to this situation—and Jimin—than meets the eye.

꧁Best Friend’s Brother꧂

Orectic by @gimmesumsuga is one of my favorite fics of all time. It is a hybrid fic where the reader is a cat hybrid and Hoseok is the brother of her best friend who comes to stay with her while her bestie is away... It is so tender yet SO HOT. I’m telling you I cannot even keep count of how many times I have read it.

Theophany by @ilikemesometaetaes was a JOURNEY. It made me so emotional. Like the story centers around art a lot, but let me tell you, this fic IS art. Jimin is just the man of my whole dreams in this piece as the brother of a former best friend with an irresistible allure. It is a coming of age story with the most beautiful twist. AND THE LOVE SCENE—oh my gosh I screamed it was so good. This story is just so so good.

Run by @neonlights92 is Jungkook’s story in the mafia universe I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH. You don’t have to read the whole series to understand it (BUT YOU SHOULD). This is best friend’s brother meets arranged marriage and honestly it’s fantastic. Jungkook doesn’t do love and affection and being forced into an arranged marriage with his sister’s friend who has always had a crush on him is just a blow to his freedom... or is she? GAH! This story—like all the stories in this universe—is superb.

The Magic to Happiness by @readyplayerhobi is a best friend’s brother meets teachers AU meets Hogwarts AU. Now... all of those are top tier tropes so finding them together is like winning the lottery. Hobi was once just a skinny kid who had obvious heart eyes for you (his sister’s best friend) but now he’s tall and confident and really attractive. The magic of this story is evident in every word of the sweet relationship that blooms between these two.

Problem with You by @monvante is so sweet and kind of hilarious. I giggled so much! Jungkook is your best friend’s brother and he is kind of too perfect and too handsome and he’s always around and you hate him and he hates you... Right? When you cross paths with the infuriating Jeon Jungkook at your best friend’s wedding, you discover that you may have been wrong about a great many things.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by @ktheist is so so SO fabulous. I was obsessed with this (now complete) series from the very first installment. You and Tae are besties who have know each other since you were little kids, but lately Tae’s older brother Jin has been lookin mighty fine. Just how far can you push him till he breaks. And if he breaks.... what then?

This list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive. I just used it to compile some of my FAVORITES in this particular trope.

➪ IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND FICS I SHOULD CHECK OUT PLEASE COMMENT (seriously please I love this trope so much) AND I WILL ADD THEM TO THIS LIST.

➪ Newer Additions are in PINK!

➪ Newest Additions are in BLUE

[midnightscxre]

feral-fuqboi-danny​:

Tired of the back talk Danny grabs Clare by her hair and tugs her close to his mask, his temper momentarily flaring up. He hated being talked down to.

“Listen here, dollface, just because I’m calling the shots doesn’t mean you have to cry about it. Now be good for me, yeah? I want you to apologize for all the bullshit you’ve done, and don’t you dare mess with me again, do you understand?”

His breathing was so heavy under the mask he was nearly fogging up his vision and blowing clouds of smoke passed his mask into the snowy wind between them. ‘Why is she so frustrating!?’ He never lost his cool like this over something this small. She was the problem, it had something to do with her.

“We can make a little deal, how about that?” He smiles under the mask, “since you’ve seemingly caught my attention I’ll be easy on you, wouldn’t wanna hurt this pretty face.” Danny says in a mocking tone as he taps his bloody blade across her cheek. “You let those little friends of yours suffer any trial I’m in and I’ll share some of my offerings with you. Like you said, I’m a 'mama’s boy’ and I get special treatment. Ever miss real food? A tv? A nice warm bath? So, what do you say? Some of your friends suffering for a break of your own every now and then?”

The roughness coming her way was taken with unusual ease, like the grip on the ruby curls wasn’t even bothering her. . . at least not in the way the man probably wanted. Clare’s blood pressure reached unimaginable levels, not only because of the nerve of this guy to corner her on his own playground without even a surviving chance, but because the tingles between her thighs and adrenaline feeding the flaring desire caused by his violently inserted domination and intoxicating closeness made her nerves to be devoured. She shouldn’t be feeling nothing but contempt at this point, not aroused and excited. It didn’t sit well, not at all. 

Suddenly a loud sound of laughter exploded from her busty chest. “ Apologize?! If that is what you are after, you wasted a hell lot of time and effort kissing entity’s ass. “ 

Apologize? Never. She would quite literally rather be gutted over and over again, than to apologize to anyone, let alone a man who butchers them for fun. She couldn’t even start explaining what was wrong with that idea. Although, the sentence did had a mine or two set out for her. . . ‘ be good for me’, damn that hit the sweet spot for the fiery redhead. Too bad her most honest thoughts almost never matched the things formed by her insolent tongue. But before she continued, her head slightly tilted from his words. 

Deal. Uhhh, Clare adored deals. At those, she was the best. As she listened to his offer, the expression of her face was unreadable. Selling them out. Selling her friends out. Friends. Never. Clare was alone her whole life, and only in this hell did she find something that resembled friendship. She was not risking it for no muffins, bubble baths, tv shows, not even her flesh and blood. Clare was ready to tell him off one lest time before he would probably slaughter her like a goat, but instead, a red light bulb signaled her to keep her mouth shut for just a moment longer. Why do this? When this was a perfect moment to stay alive and get something. All he needed was to hear her say what he wanted. . .  and what she will go later, well,  that is another story. Redhead decided she can forgive herself for restraining her rude tongue, and make a different plan. 

“ Only them huh? And I get everything? “ she tried to sound convincing, fighting with her all being to suppress her true self. Clare was a lot of things, but selfish? Never. Staring at his mask, she wanted to continue, lie, act, anything, but the final words just didn’t come out. She was unable to even lie about it, telling him she will do it. No, Clare Archer chose a path that was if nothing- familiar to her. “ I have a better idea. How about. . .next time in the trial I really do take your mask off, and shove my foot down your throat to finally shut you up. take a picture and trade that with your dear entity for a nice little frame to put it in, to forever remember that sweet moment when you couldn’t open your mouth for at least a minute. “ Clare’s head turned, biting down on his head holding a knife, before spitting it out. “ I suggest you take what you have. You needed assistance catching me? So gut me already, get your fucking fill. It will be the last time you do it for a long time. “ She came closer, glaring into the two holes of the mask. “ Because we both know you can’t catch me alone. And one more thing, do me a kindness and bury me upside-down, with me hips still above the ground. . . so you can kiss my fucking ass even in death! “

[scuttling]

Sweet Evening Breeze

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,042 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Naïve reader, Innocence kink, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, Previous bad sexual experience Summary: Being Jack Hotchner’s babysitter is a pretty great job. He’s an angel, most of the time, and his dad is so sweet and thoughtful, really takes care of you. Really takes care of you... *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Jack, buddy, time for breakfast,” you call down the hall for the third time. “We’ll play Legos later.” He shouts something nearly incomprehensible back, and you sigh as you stretch up, trying to reach the jam he likes on the top shelf of the cupboard.

Most of the time, the fact that Jack’s dad, Aaron, is very tall gives you butterflies in your stomach, but sometimes it’s just an inconvenience—like when he puts groceries up so high you don’t have a chance of reaching them.

“Dad did not say you could skip breakfast, and it’s not okay to lie. Little monster,” you mutter, and you can feel Aaron’s breath on the back of your neck when he chuckles softly. Whoops. You didn’t even know he was standing there. “I say that with full affection.”

He reaches around you to take down the jam, resting a hand on your lower back, probably for support. The bit of skin exposed by your stretching tingles at the touch.

“Of course, and so do I. Often.” You turn to face him, give him a grateful smile, and take the jar of jam.

“Thank you. Ugh, aren’t you miserable in that?” you ask, gesturing to his usual business suit. As Jack’s babysitter, you see Aaron in a suit almost every day—another thing that gives you butterflies—but you’re in the middle of a heatwave, and it’s 97 degrees in your little suburb of DC, which means it’s probably more like 115 downtown. That’s too hot to do anything, but especially in a suit and tie.

“It’s cool in here, but yes, I’ll probably be miserable the second I step foot outside.” You spread peanut butter on one English muffin and jam on another, laughing softly when a thought comes to you.

“Too bad you don’t have as much flexibility with your dress code as I do.”

At the start of this heatwave last week, you’d asked Aaron—after much nervous deliberation—if you could wear shorts and tank tops around the house instead of your usual jeans and a t-shirt or sweater. Your so-called uniform was self-imposed, because he’d told you from the start you could dress however you were comfortable, but you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You weren’t trying to show off your body, or tempt or tease, or anything like that; you were just extremely hot, especially playing outside with Jack.

He had agreed, of course, that you should dress for the weather, and that shorts and tank tops were fine. He also reminded you that you could use the pool whenever you wanted, whether he was home or not, and just thinking about taking a dip later is enough to make you sigh in relief.

“I don’t think anyone would be interested in seeing me in an outfit like that,” he jokes—sometimes people can’t tell when he’s joking, because he’s so dry, but you’re familiar with his humor by now—and you laugh again. It earns you a smile.

“I think it’s more important that you’re comfortable than what people think when they see you in something, but it would probably be a little distracting.” You’ve seen him in his swim trunks on more than one occasion, most recently with no shirt to accompany them, and you can attest to being very distracted that day. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on Jack, and you did, would never put him in danger, but your eyes had also been following the drops of water that dripped from Aaron’s hair, down his throat, over his chest…

You had been hot for more than one reason that day, and your butterflies moved a little bit lower.

You shake your head of those thoughts quickly, glance around you to see that Jack is still not in the kitchen. You sigh, and put the peanut butter muffin on a paper napkin, hand it to Aaron.

“I’m going to go get him, but have a good day, okay? Try to stay cool; maybe you can take a swim tonight when it’s not so hot.”

“Good idea. Maybe you can join me if you’re still here.” That was sweet of him to offer. You smile at his kindness, brush a hand over your head. You wish your hair wasn’t all over the place, clinging to the sweat on your neck, your temples, but humidity is not your friend. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Thanks, maybe I will.” He gathers his things to head out, and you steel yourself and head to Jack’s room, scoop him up, giggling, into your arms, and plop him down for breakfast.

The two of you spend the day inside, because even swimming is a nightmare when the sun is beating down the way it is. You play with Legos, watch a movie, do some coloring pages, and play learning games on his iPad.

At around three, Aaron texts you, lets you know he won’t be home tonight because of a case, and you mentally plan out a small, easy dinner for you and Jack, then a little more playtime, then bed for Jack and a swim for you after.

You tuck him in, turn on his nightlight, and close the door behind you, then head to your room to change into your bathing suit.

You usually wear a purple one piece with shorts over it, something you can play with Jack in without worrying about anything falling out, so you’re surprised to find a pale blue, floral print bikini on your bed—a very tiny bikini—with a sticky note on the tag.

Went shopping for Jack and this made me think of you. I hope you like it. - Aaron

The first two things to pop into your head are, it was so sweet of him to think of you while out shopping, and you’re really glad he’s not here to see you in it, because it only half-covers all the things it’s supposed to cover. You double check the tag, but it’s the right size, so it must just be the intended design. Your cheeks flush hot, but it also makes you feel good, to be wearing so little. Kind of wrong, but good in a way you can’t explain.

You grab a couple of beach towels and step out into the slightly cooler night air, sigh at the feel of it on so much of your skin. You lay out your towels on the lounge chair by the edge of the pool—maybe you’ll lay there and read or play on your phone after your swim—and then step into the pool.

The water is still so warm, and the contrast between it and the breeze that blows across the surface has goosebumps breaking out across your skin. You dip your head under the water, let your hair fall loose and luxuriously wet after being twisted up all day long, and when you open your eyes Aaron is standing at the edge of the pool; you gasp, startled by his sudden appearance, and then laugh lightly.

“Oh my god, you scared me. I thought you weren’t going to be home tonight?” You swim closer to the edge so you can see him better, and he crouches down to your level. He’s taken off his jacket and tie, loosened the collar of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves; your heart races a little at his proximity, and all the dark hair you’re presented with.

“Change of plans, we weren’t needed after all. I texted you, but I see your phone is over there; I’m sorry I scared you.” He looks you over, something calculating in his gaze, and then smiles softly. “You’re wearing the swimsuit I bought you. Do you like it?”

You can feel yourself flush, because you hadn’t anticipated him being home to see you in it, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Yes, I like it. It’s pretty. Thank you.” He must be able to sense your apprehension, because he tilts his head curiously.

“If you don’t like it, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings. Don’t be shy.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I love it. That was so sweet of you.” You reach out a hand to rest on his arm, don’t want him to feel like you aren’t grateful. “It’s just a little… revealing.” He makes a soft noise of contemplation, reaches out to brush his fingers over your shoulder, over the strap.

“I was a little worried about that. Why don’t you get out of there and let me see? I can let you know if I think it’s too much.” You appreciate that he’d do that for you, and you respect his opinion, but you feel really exposed in it—and you’re not sure why that makes you feel so uncomfortable and so good at the same time.

Sure, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but there’s no way he’d ever look at you as anything other than the sitter. You’re just too… innocent.

All the same, you nod your head and lift yourself up out of the pool; Aaron moves back, helps you up, and guides you over to the lounge chair. He sits, and you stand.

From there, he looks slowly over your body; he lingers over your breasts, your hips, then asks you to turn so he can see the back. You swallow, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Have you ever been this undressed in front of a man?” he asks, his voice low, and your breath hitches. “I can tell you’re nervous, that’s all.”

“Um. Once,” you say, flushing. He hums, brushes a hand down the length of your arm, and you feel a chill. You turn back to face him, and he pats the lounge chair, encouraging you to sit next to him. You sit, cross legged, facing him, nervous, but… also not; it’s hard to explain.

“Were you completely naked?” The way he asks it is so casual, but being naked isn’t casual for you; you can barely bring yourself to think about being naked, let alone talk about it. With your employer.

But something about the way he asks it makes you want to answer, at the same time, and there’s almost no one you trust more than Aaron. He’s always been so good to you.

“No. I left something on.” It had been a bra, gray with a pink bow in the middle. You were more comfortable keeping it on, and your ex-boyfriend hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared about much, it turns out.

“Was it during sex?” The way the word sounds coming out of his mouth makes you anxious, and excited; you can’t believe you’re having this conversation, and you also don’t want it to end.

“Yes, during... sex.” He nods, brings a hand to your cheek and brushes your wet hair back, tucks it behind your ear. Your heart is beating so fast you’re surprised the world around you is still so calm, quiet. Intimate.

“How many times have you had sex, sweet girl?” You close your eyes, embarrassed. You don’t want him to know how innocent you really are, not when he’s so much older and more experienced. He’ll laugh.

Then again, this is Aaron, and he’s only ever made you feel cared about and safe before. So maybe he won’t?

“Um. One time.”

“Just one time? That’s surprising to me; you’re so beautiful.” You shiver, maybe from being wet with the breeze on your skin, or maybe because he brushes his fingers over your lips, or maybe because he called you beautiful. No one’s ever called you beautiful. “Did it feel good?”

You’d wanted it to feel good; it did, for maybe a minute, and you think about that minute all the time, especially when you… when you slip your hand into your panties at night in your bed, thinking about Aaron’s broad shoulders, his thick forearms, his hands, his mouth...

“Kind of. And then no.” His hand freezes and he frowns. His voice is abruptly less low, more serious. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows you want to reach out and touch.

“Did he hurt you?” It had hurt, but you know he hadn’t meant for it to hurt. He wasn’t mean. He was just so eager to finish that once he started, he’d stopped caring if you were feeling good, so focused on his own body. You figured that’s just how guys are, and it made you never want to do it again—so you didn’t.

“Not on purpose,” is what you say. He covers your hand with his, big and warm and careful. You’ve always felt so comforted by his touch, and tonight is no exception.

“What happened?”

“It started quickly and ended quickly. I don’t think I was… prepared.” You’re blushing, hoping he understands your indirect statement so you don’t have to say it out loud. He rubs his thumb soothingly over the back of your hand, reaches up with the other to touch your flushed cheek.

“You weren’t wet?” You exhale, a little shaky, tell him no. “Are you wet now, sweetheart?” You’re almost ashamed to say, but he is asking...

“Very.” It’s just a whisper, but it makes him smile a little, touch your mouth again. You could get used to that.

“Good girl. Can I feel?” That gives you pause, for a moment, but thinking of him touching you where you’ve imagined for months—it’s too good of a prospect to pass up, no matter how nervous you are. You nod, and he moves his hand inside your swimsuit bottoms, brushes over your core, slips between your lips easily. He never takes his eyes off of yours. “It would feel really good to have sex now. Do you want to try again? You’re always taking such good care of us; I want to take care of you.”

You bite your lip, and he leans in slowly, presses his mouth to yours for a gentle kiss. You make a soft noise of pleasure, tilt your hips so you’re sliding over his hand, and he groans—it’s honestly one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. It means he wants you… never in a million years would you have guessed that.

“I want to try,” you breathe, and you feel bold, so you kiss him this time. He pulls you close, deepens the kiss, adds tongue, and you moan at the feel, clinging to his shirt. “Aaron.”

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he says, voice low, and he moves his fingers up to the part of you that makes you shake with desperate need, rubs tight circles so you’re panting, chest heaving; you nod quickly and he picks you up, hand still moving inside your swimsuit, carries you to the sliding glass door and pushes it open with his elbow.

You assume you’ll head straight for the bedroom, but he stops in the kitchen, sets you on the counter and kisses you again, a little harder than you’ve experienced before; you love it, try your best to match the way his mouth moves, and his fingers press hard against your aching bud, making you gasp with pleasure.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?” he asks, a little breathless himself, and you smooth your fingers through his hair.

“Um. I think so. From touching myself like this.” He moves his fingers faster, and you press your palm against the counter for support, move your hips against his hand. It feels so good, so much better than when you do it that you could cry.

“Has someone else ever given you an orgasm?” You use the fingers in his hair to bring him to you for a kiss, something you both moan softly into.

“No. I want-I want you to be the first,” you murmur, and he closes his eyes, exhales through his nose, and lifts you up again, this time carrying you to his bedroom and setting you on your feet by the bed. He looks down at you with eyes so dark and gorgeous, then asks if he can remove what little clothing you have on. You tell him yes, and he pushes down the bottoms, which you step carefully out of.

When his hands move to the top, you hesitate, always self-conscious about this; he leans in and presses delicious kisses to your neck, your shoulders, slides the straps down, and looks up at you with caring, gentle eyes. You nod, and he pulls your top off, too, leaving you completely naked in front of someone for the first time in your life.

It’s such a rush, you wish he hadn’t waited so long to initiate this.

“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he says, and with the way he‘s looking at you, you actually believe it. He takes your face in his hands, kisses your lips, then moves down your throat again, your chest—he pays your nipples a bit of attention, flicking his tongue, scraping his teeth, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. “So perfect.”

He puts his hands all over your body, sweeping over your arms, your waist, and he presses kisses to your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You want his mouth where his fingers were, but you don’t ask; it’s almost like he knows anyway, when he looks up at you from his knees.

“Has anyone ever tasted you?” You shake your head, and he puts his hands on your butt, squeezes softly, and guides you to lay back on the bed. “I want you to tell me how it feels, okay?”

Normally, you’re quiet out of necessity, because when you aren’t here you have an apartment you share with a roommate—even though most of the time, you sleep here whether you’re strictly required to or not. You’re quiet here too, because you’ve never wanted Aaron to know how he makes you feel, although now you’re really wishing you’d have found out sooner that he feels the same way. Imagine all the cool, quiet nights you could have spent on this bed, in his arms…

Shaking yourself out of the fantasy—because reality is literally happening, and it’s so much better—you nod, and he carefully spreads your thighs, leans in to tease his tongue along your slit, light and wet.

“Oh. Aaron.” He looks up, reaches a hand forward to twine your fingers together, and you squeeze them, moaning when he dips again, this time pressing his tongue inside you where you’re wettest. “Oh my-oh my god.” He leans in to press damp kisses to your lower belly.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I want you to come on my tongue—come on my tongue, don’t be shy.” Again, he slides it inside, brings his free hand up to rub you, and it’s not long before you do as he asks, shaking and tightening your grip on his hand. You’re almost embarrassed by how loud you are, but he is nothing but sweet when he comes up, whispers in your ear how well you did for him, how pleased he is to be the first to make you moan like that, to taste you.

He kisses your mouth so you can taste yourself, and groans when you reach for his head, hold him closer.

“Thank you,” you murmur, shaky, when the kiss breaks, and he rubs over your lips with his thumb like he did before, smiles softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl. I told you I wanted to take care of you; I’m just so glad you let me.” You move your hands to the front of his shirt and rest them there, hoping he’ll take the hint, but he just gets a glimmer in his eye that makes the butterflies flutter low despite your very recent release. “Don’t be shy. Tell me what you want.” You flush, don’t know how to ask a man—especially a man like Aaron—to get naked for you. “Oh, there’s that blush. My sweet, innocent girl. You haven’t even been properly fucked, of course you don’t know how to ask for what you want. But I’ll teach you.”

He sits up, hovering over your body, gets his fingers on the buttons of his shirt and starts to slip them free. He has to unzip his pants to untuck it, and the sight and sound of that makes you whimper—you immediately tense, feel shame at being so vocal, but he just leans in to kiss you, soft and slow.

“You can’t wait for me to be naked too, can you? You want to see what a man looks like, feel what a man feels like. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” It comes out roughly, almost too low for even you to hear; you clear your throat and try again. “Yes, Aaron.” It earns you a slightly harder kiss, and he climbs off the bed to undress the rest of the way; your eyes are drawn to his erection as soon as it’s exposed, and he looks at you with nothing less than lust in his eyes. It makes you shiver and want to open your legs for him again.

“You’re staring. Have you touched a cock before—stroked it with your hand?”

“No. Can I?” you ask, sitting up against the pillows, and he nods, moves next to you, and takes your hand. You’re intimidated by the size of him, all the more so when he wraps your fingers around it, covers them with his, and strokes.

“Feels so good, baby,” he rumbles, slinging his free hand around your hip and holding you close to his body. He is so… just good looking, so different from your ex-boyfriend, from guys your age, and you look up at his face while you touch him, hoping to bring him even half as much pleasure as he brought you. Your eyes flick back down, though, after a short time, transfixed by the wet head disappearing into your fist. “Hmm. Good girl. Do you want to try putting your mouth on it?”

God, do you want to try that. You want to know what it tastes like, feels like on your tongue; you nod, scoot back a little so you can bend over him, and he puts his hands on your head, slowly guides your open mouth to hover over him.

“Careful with your teeth, and keep me nice and wet, okay? We'll go slowly.” He pushes your hair back from your face so he can see you better, which is sweet, and you nod, close your lips around him, let him show you how he wants you to do it.

He feels so big in your mouth, and you remember to be careful, to be wet, like he said. He’s not making you take him deeply, just a couple of inches, and when you’re not so nervous it feels really good, the weight of him against your tongue, his gentle hands teaching you what to do. It makes you feel useful, learning how he likes to be pleasured, and you enjoy finding ways to make yourself useful to Aaron.

“Perfect, perfect. Just like that—you’re doing great, sweetheart.” You hum around him, pleased that it feels good for him, and you’re stricken with the urge to feel him spilling into your mouth, but he groans and offers something even more intriguing. “Would you like to come sit in my lap? I want to press into your warm, tight, sweet pussy; I promise it will feel good, not like last time.” You make another noise, something eager, and he pulls you off and gets his hands on your waist, brings you up to rest against his thighs.

“Will it hurt?” you ask, just in case. You hadn’t thought to ask that last time. “You’re big; what if it doesn’t fit?” You look up at him, and warm, tender eyes peer into yours.

“It won’t hurt, and it will fit, I promise. We’ll make it fit. Lean up.” You stretch up a little, press your hands to his shoulders, and he rubs his hands soothingly over your body, kisses your chest, and then dips a finger inside you; you grip him tightly, moan, hold still while he moves it in and out, then adds another. “How does that feel? Don’t be shy.”

“Feels-feels good,” you breathe, and he pumps them together which feels so incredible, so new. He brings his free hand to your butt and squeezes softly.

“Good girl. I’m adding another. You’re so wet, it shouldn’t be a problem, but tell me if it’s uncomfortable.” The third finger makes you feel like you’re full up, a little snug, but you know you’ll need to get used to it if you want him inside; you breathe, will yourself to only feel the good, remind yourself that this isn’t like last time. Aaron is being so good to you; he won’t stop being good to you.

“Aaron.” It’s a gasp, a plea, a question, and he answers it by pulling his fingers out, putting his hands on your hips, and lining his cock up at your entrance, lowering you slowly onto it. You pant, moan as it slides in; it feels tight to you, and you’re so incredibly full, but his hands feel like safety and you’re not worried. He’s always taken care of you; he wouldn’t hurt you.

“You’re perfect, you’re doing so good. You feel so good.” He squeezes you, stretches up to brush his lips over yours. “We’re going to make you come again; I’ll give you the best night of your life, I promise.”

“Of course you will. This is already the best night of my life,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he kisses you harder; you can feel his hands tighten, and it doesn’t hurt, only makes you want more, rougher. You feel filthy for wanting that, but it’s Aaron, and you want any and everything he wants to give; you also want him to take anything he wants to take.

He moves your body up and down, a show of strength that makes you moan, just a string of desperate sounds you’re a little embarrassed of; he appreciates the noises you make, though, if the way he grips you is any indication, his eyes determined as he makes you bounce on his cock.

“Oh, yes baby, just like that. How does it feel, sweet girl?”

“Mmh, good, so good, so good,” you sigh, your butt making contact with his firm thighs each time he brings you down on him. “Feels so good to be… to have it inside me.”

Aaron hums, frowns just slightly.

“Tell me what it is, baby. Your innocent little mouth can be dirty for me, this once. What feels good? What’s inside you?” His voice is a little tense, like maybe he wants to finish, but he doesn't change a thing, doesn’t hurt you so he can get there faster. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, curl fingers into his hair.

“Your… It’s your cock, Aaron. Your cock feels so good inside me.” You’ve thought the word, never said it aloud, but it makes him groan deeply, so you vow to say it again at some point just to savor that reaction.

“Yes it does, yes it does. Feels so good inside your perfect pussy, my perfect, sweet girl.” His hands move you faster, and you want to help now that you know this is how he likes it; when the two of you work together, it’s quicker thrusts, harder thrusts, your breasts bouncing along with the rest of your body and making you feel filthy, indecent. Amazing.

You lean in for a kiss, and Aaron turns it into something deep and decadent, delicious; you pass moans back and forth, holding tightly to him, the both of you breaking a sweat even in the cool air. You’re so close, so close to the ultimate pleasure you felt with his head between your legs, and you can hear your moans change, eager, needy things.

“Aaron please. Please.” You take his face in your hands, look into his eyes, bounce on him and kiss him and plead for release against his lips, and he holds you so tightly and climaxes, spilling inside you and pumping up into you, breathless.

“Oh, good girl, you did that. You made me come, baby. Not so innocent anymore, are you?” You shake your head—you don’t feel innocent anymore, you feel good, you want more, want to chase the feelings you’ve felt tonight, including the one still building inside you. “Now let’s get you off. I want to feel it.” He digs his fingers into your hips, so hard you think it might bruise, but in your heightened state of arousal it just feels good; you keep moving until your orgasm takes control of you, makes you grip his hair hard in your fingers and slam yourself down on him.

“Yes, yes, mmm.” He brings a hand to your face, softly catches your jaw, and guides you to make eye contact while you ride him through it until you are both spent, sinking against the bed. He sweeps his hands over your body, kisses you softly, and you melt at his touch. “That was so incredible. Thank you.”

“I told you, you don’t have to thank me. I wanted to take care of you; been wanting that for some time,” he admits easily, touching your cheek. “I’m just glad I could give you a good experience after the bad one.”

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Your voice is light, low, because saying things like this, talking about sex, is still so new to you. “I love being here for you, helping you with Jack, and anything else you need. Do you think you’ll want or need me like this again?”

“Oh, I don’t see how I could do without, if it’s something you want. Although I may have to return that swimsuit. It is pretty indecent,” he says with a somewhat guilty smile.

You figured as much, and for the first time tonight you feel very confident when you say, “No, I think I’d like to keep it.”

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