#needed to get this out of my chest for WEEKS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aspenmissing · 1 day ago

Note

Hiii, are you comfortable with writing something about Reader x Arcane character getting caught while making out? Maybe both of them are really stressed and needed a little distraction at work or in a hidden corner somewhere in the city.

ɪɴᴛᴇʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ || 4493 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀꜱ: ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇᴅ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ɪ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ (ᴍᴏꜱᴛʟʏ ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ʜᴇʜᴇ)

JAYCE

The weight of the council meeting still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. Jayce slumped into his chair, one hand dragging through his already-mussed hair, the other tapping mindlessly on the table. Across from him, you mirrored his exhaustion, arms folded as you stared at the mess of blueprints and reports scattered before you.

"This is impossible," Jayce groaned, tilting his head back against the chair. "How do they expect us to solve everything at once?"

You sighed, shaking your head. "They don’t. They just want to watch us try until we collapse."

A humourless chuckle left him as he rolled his shoulders, rubbing at the tension there. His usually confident posture was weighed down with exhaustion, frustration evident in every movement.

The stress had been building for weeks—long meetings, sleepless nights, the pressure of expectation closing in on both of you like a vise. The worst part? You barely had time for each other. Stolen glances, brief touches in passing, but never enough to ease the ache of missing him.

Jayce exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. "Maybe we just need a break. Five minutes. Just… something to clear my head."

Your gaze flickered to him, taking in the way his fingers twitched restlessly on the table, how his broad shoulders seemed so tense, like he was carrying the weight of the world.

"I have an idea," you murmured, standing and rounding the desk.

Jayce barely had time to react before you slid onto his lap, straddling him with ease. His eyes widened slightly, but the second your hands cupped his face, his tension melted like snow in the sun.

"What are you—?" His words were cut off as your lips brushed against his.

A slow, lingering kiss. Not rushed, not desperate—just enough to make him forget, to remind him that he wasn’t alone in this.

A deep hum rumbled in his chest as he kissed you back, slow at first, like he was savouring the taste of you. His fingers skimmed your sides before gripping your waist, pulling you just that much closer. The heat of his touch sent a thrill up your spine.

But when you tangled your hands in his hair, tugging lightly, everything shifted.

Jayce exhaled sharply against your lips, the frustration of the day bleeding into something else entirely. His grip on you tightened as he moved suddenly, one strong arm wrapping around your waist while the other gripped the desk.

The next thing you knew, you were on the table.

Papers and blueprints scattered to the floor as Jayce pushed them aside without a second thought. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough for him to step between them, his body pressing into yours.

"Jayce—" you half-gasped, half-laughed, but he swallowed whatever protest you had with another kiss.

This one was different. Deeper. Desperate.

His lips crashed against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs, his hands pressing into the curve of your back, pulling you against him like he needed this—needed you—more than anything else.

"You're too damn distracting," he murmured against your lips, breathless, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, skimming the bare skin at your waist.

You smirked, letting your nails drag lightly along the back of his neck. "Funny. I was just about to say the same about you."

His answering chuckle vibrated against your skin before he dipped his head, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. You shivered as his lips found the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

"Jayce—" you whispered, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as his hands wandered, heat pooling in your stomach.

And then—

"Ahem."

You froze.

Jayce’s lips lingered against your skin for a second longer before he stilled, his body going rigid.

Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his head.

Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, was none other than Viktor. His expression was somewhere between exasperated and amused, his golden eyes flicking from you to Jayce and then to the mess of scattered papers on the floor.

"I take it this is your solution to stress management?"

Heat flooded your face as you scrambled to push yourself upright. Jayce stepped back immediately, coughing into his fist while straightening his shirt, trying—failing—to look composed.

Viktor sighed, shaking his head. "By all means, don't let me interrupt your… problem-solving session."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Jayce groaned too, dragging a hand down his face, looking anywhere but at Viktor.

Viktor turned to leave but paused just before the door. "I’ll let the council know you’re… preoccupied."

The door shut behind him. Silence stretched between you and Jayce.

Then—

"Of all people, why did it have to be Viktor?" Jayce groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

You bit your lip, barely holding back a laugh as you nudged him. "So… continue?"

Jayce groaned again, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. Maybe stress relief wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

VIKTOR

The apartment was filled with the soft glow of the city beyond its grand windows. Piltover's skyline stretched high in the distance, golden lamplight flickering against the polished glass, illuminating the intricate brass fixtures that adorned the walls. The faint hum of the Hextech trams outside blended with the quiet ticking of the many clocks and machines scattered around the room. The air smelled of ink, metal, and the faint remnants of Viktor’s tea—long forgotten and cold in its cup.

You sat on the couch, head resting against the cushions, eyes trailing Viktor as he paced. His cane tapped against the floor in a slow, rhythmic beat, his free hand raking through his messy curls as he mumbled under his breath.

“This is not working,” he muttered, exhaling sharply. “If I adjust the schematics for the stabilizer, it offsets the energy balance entirely—”

“Viktor.”

He didn’t seem to hear you.

“Viktor.”

Finally, he stopped pacing, turning towards you with tired, golden-brown eyes. The soft candlelight caught the sharp angles of his face, the deep crease between his brows evidence of long nights spent battling his own mind.

“You need to take a break,” you said, patting the space beside you.

“I cannot afford a break,” he countered, though his voice lacked conviction.

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips. “And what if I make it worth your while?”

His lips twitched, curiosity flickering in his gaze. But before he could overanalyze it, you reached for him, fingers curling around the collar of his shirt as you pulled him down. His breath hitched, but he didn’t resist—if anything, he melted into you, his hands bracing on either side of you as your lips met in a slow, desperate kiss.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was the kind of kiss that unraveled knots in the soul, the kind that softened the weight of sleepless nights and overworked minds. His hand cupped your jaw, fingers tracing along your skin as if memorizing the feel of you.

Viktor sighed into the kiss, his body finally relaxing as he deepened it, stealing another taste of you like a man starved. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you found yourself tugging him closer, lips parting to let him in—

Without breaking the kiss, you shifted, moving to straddle his lap, careful not to put too much weight on him. His breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands found your waist, hesitating only for a second before gripping you as if anchoring himself.

“You’re being reckless,” he murmured against your lips, though the amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“I’m being helpful,” you corrected, brushing your nose against his.

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding up your sides, fingertips teasing along the curve of your back. You could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt, the way his pulse quickened beneath your touch.

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, leaving slow, lazy kisses against your throat. You tilted your head to give him more access, fingers threading into his hair, tugging gently. The way he sighed, almost blissfully, sent a shiver down your spine.

“Much better than schematics,” he murmured against your skin.

“Mhm,” you hummed, tracing slow circles into his shoulders. “And much better than pacing yourself into exhaustion.”

He chuckled, low and warm, before reclaiming your lips in another kiss, his fingers pressing into your waist. You could feel the tension melting from his body, the weight of his thoughts momentarily forgotten—

"Oh—oh my GOD!"

You both jolted apart, breathless and wide-eyed as the unmistakable voice of Jayce Talis rang through the apartment.

Viktor turned his head just in time to see his best friend standing in the doorway, hand over his eyes like he’d walked in on something far more scandalous.

“Jayce—!” Viktor’s voice cracked slightly, his cheeks burning as he scrambled to straighten his shirt.

“I— I was coming to check on you because you haven’t answered in hours and I was worried but clearly I was wrong to do so—” Jayce rambled, still shielding his vision.

You covered your face with both hands, mortified. Viktor, on the other hand, exhaled slowly, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered, “For the love of— Jayce, knock next time.”

Jayce made a sound somewhere between an embarrassed chuckle and a strangled cough. “You never close your door! I figured you were just working!”

“Well, clearly, I was busy.”

Jayce groaned. “I hate this. I’m leaving. I’m pretending I never saw this. Have fun— or don’t, actually. Just— I’m leaving!”

With that, he fled, the door slamming behind him.

Silence stretched between you and Viktor. Then, despite everything, a small laugh bubbled from your lips. Viktor shook his head, a quiet chuckle escaping him as well.

“Well,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that his nose brushed against yours, “that was unfortunate.”

You smiled, brushing a stray curl from his face. “Maybe next time we should lock the door.”

He hummed in agreement before pressing another quick kiss to your lips.

“Next time,” he whispered, fingers ghosting along your spine, “I will not be so easily interrupted.”

JAYVIK

The apartment was supposed to be a place of solace, a refuge from the chaos of Piltover’s ever-demanding scientific advancements. Instead, it had become an extension of the lab—blueprints scattered over the coffee table, half-finished devices blinking with dim light, and a lingering scent of metal and ozone in the air.

Viktor sat hunched over a set of schematics, fingers curled into his hair, while Jayce paced in front of the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. Y/N, squeezed between them on their small shared couch, rubbed her temples, feeling the weight of their collective stress.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Jayce finally muttered, throwing himself onto the couch beside her with a heavy sigh. “We need a break.”

Viktor snorted but didn’t argue. He just leaned back, rolling his stiff shoulders. Y/N looked between them, their exhaustion clear in the droop of their eyes and the tension in their muscles.

“A break,” she echoed, thoughtful. A smirk tugged at her lips before she turned to Viktor first, placing a hand against his cheek to guide him to her. He inhaled sharply, but when she kissed him, his breath softened against her lips.

Jayce chuckled beside them. “Oh, I see what kind of break you mean.”

Y/N barely had time to grin before Jayce tilted her head toward him, catching her lips in a deeper kiss. His hands were warm against her waist, his touch grounding, and when he pulled away, Viktor leaned in, catching Jayce’s mouth in his own.

The stress that had suffocated them melted away between kisses, fingers threading through hair, soft sighs filling the space. Viktor’s hands found Y/N’s hips as she curled into him, and Jayce’s fingers brushed against Viktor’s wrist before cupping the back of his neck, pulling him in again. It was the kind of comfort they all needed, a reminder that despite the frustrations, they had each other. The warmth between them built steadily, deepening with each brush of lips, each squeeze of hands against familiar bodies.

And then the door opened.

“What the—”

All three of them froze.

Caitlyn stood in the doorway, eyes wide, a folder of papers tucked under her arm. Her mouth opened, then shut, then opened again as she took in the sight of all three of them tangled together on the couch, breathless and undeniably caught.

“Uh,” Jayce started, clearing his throat and trying to shift subtly, but Viktor was still half in his lap, Y/N’s fingers still curled in Viktor’s shirt. “We were, um, taking a break?”

Caitlyn blinked. Then smirked. “I can see that.”

Y/N groaned and buried her face in Viktor’s shoulder. Viktor sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. Jayce just let out a nervous laugh. “You’re, uh… you’re early.”

Caitlyn lifted the folder. “Heimerdinger wanted me to drop these off. But, uh, I’ll just… leave them here.” She set the papers on the counter, giving them all one last amused glance before backing toward the door. “Carry on.”

The door clicked shut, leaving silence in her wake.

Y/N exhaled, pulling away from Viktor’s shoulder to glance between her lovers. “Well. That happened.”

Jayce ran a hand down his face, groaning. “We’re never living this down, are we?”

Viktor, ever the unbothered one, simply chuckled. “I highly doubt this is the most scandalous thing Caitlyn has ever walked in on.”

Y/N smirked, brushing a thumb over Viktor’s cheek. “Guess we’ll just have to get used to locking the door.”

Jayce huffed a laugh and leaned back. “Yeah. Next time, we plan our distractions better.”

“Next time?” Viktor mused, arching a brow.

Y/N grinned. “Oh, definitely.”

Jayce grinned too, leaning his head back against the couch. “You know,” he mused, eyes flicking between the two of them, “I don’t regret it.”

Viktor sighed, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Of course you don’t.”

Y/N nudged him. “Neither do you.”

Viktor huffed a small laugh before conceding. “No. I do not.”

Jayce let out a satisfied hum, looping an arm around both of them. “Then I say we finish our break properly… after we actually lock the door.”

Y/N and Viktor exchanged looks before laughing softly, leaning into his embrace as the tension from the day fully melted away. Even with the inevitable teasing from Caitlyn and whoever she told, they had each other—and that was enough.

VANDER

The Last Drop was busier than usual, filled with the usual rowdy crowd, the smell of stale ale, and the low hum of conversation. Vander rubbed his temple, exhaustion settling deep in his bones. It had been a long day—dealing with drunken fools who thought they were tougher than they were, extra mouths to feed, and the constant chaos of running the bar.

Y/N was just as exhausted, having spent the day tending to the younger kids and ensuring no one got into trouble. Stress hung between them like a thick cloud, and one knowing glance was all it took before Vander took her by the wrist and led her into the small backroom of The Last Drop.

The moment the door shut behind them, she barely had time to breathe before he was on her, pressing her up against the wooden wall. His large hands gripped her thighs, lifting her with ease as her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. His lips were firm and demanding, the taste of whiskey still lingering on his tongue as he kissed her deeply. She sighed into him, letting the tension of the day melt away, fingers threading through the silver streaks of his beard as he growled low in his throat.

He pressed himself closer, his body flush against hers, trapping her against the wall. The heat between them was undeniable, the way his hands kneaded at her thighs making her breath hitch. His kisses grew more intense, hungry, as his mouth trailed along her jaw, down the column of her throat, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. She gasped softly as his teeth grazed her pulse, a smirk tugging at his lips at the sound.

“Vander,” she breathed, gripping his shoulders tighter. He chuckled against her skin, his hands shifting under her thighs, pressing her higher, closer.

“You always sound so sweet when you say my name like that,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over hers before diving back in, this time deeper, more desperate. His fingers dug into her hips, grounding himself in the moment as she tugged at the strands of his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“You know how to drive me crazy, woman,” he murmured against her lips, his breath warm as he trailed kisses down her neck.

She grinned, tilting her head back to give him better access. “Then maybe I should do it more often.”

She could feel the rumble of his chest as he let out a pleased sigh, savouring her, indulging in her. The tension of the day faded, replaced by something heady, something undeniable—

“Vander?”

The sound sent a jolt through him, and before he could react, his grip on Y/N loosened. With a surprised yelp, she slipped from his hold and landed on the floor with a graceless thud.

Vander winced. “Shit—Y/N, love, you alright?” He knelt quickly, reaching out to help her up, but the glare she shot him had him pausing.

“Do I look alright?” she hissed, rubbing her sore backside. “You dropped me!”

The voice outside knocked again. “Vander?”

He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “One second, kid!” He turned back to Y/N, his expression sheepish. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, I know,” she muttered, swatting his hand away and getting up on her own. “You owe me for that.”

Vander sighed, but a small smirk played at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll make it up to ya later.”

“You better.”

Straightening his clothes, he took one last look at her—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and narrowed eyes—and sighed before heading to the door. As soon as he cracked it open, he was met with Vi’s unimpressed face.

“Really?” she deadpanned, arms crossed.

Vander sighed again. “Not a word, Vi.”

She grinned. “Oh, I was gonna say I needed your help with something, but after seeing that? I think I’ll just go tell Enzo instead.”

Vander groaned as she walked off, chuckling to herself, while Y/N simply shook her head behind him.

“We need a better backroom.”

SILCO

The dim glow of Zaun’s skyline filtered through the blinds of Silco’s office, casting jagged shadows across the room. The scent of smoke and whiskey lingered, mixing with the faint metallic tang of ink and gunpowder.

You sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed, watching him. He was tense—his fingers pressed against his temples as he reviewed documents, his ever-present cigar smoldering in the ashtray beside him. The weight of the undercity rested heavy on his shoulders, and tonight, it seemed heavier than usual.

“You need a break,” you murmured.

Silco exhaled sharply, a humourless chuckle leaving his lips. “Zaun doesn’t rest, my dear. And neither do I.”

You pushed off the desk and moved toward him, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. He was stiff beneath your touch, his body coiled like a spring, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he let out a slow exhale as your fingers trailed along his collar, loosening the tension there.

“Then let me help,” you whispered, sliding into his lap.

His mismatched eyes flickered up to meet yours, a silent challenge in them. “Oh?”

You straddled him, resting your hands against his chest, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of his breath. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into your hips as if grounding himself. The shift in power between you was intoxicating, a game you both played so well.

His lips found yours, slow and deliberate at first, teasing, testing. But when you tugged at the collar of his vest, pulling him closer, the dam broke. The kiss deepened, rougher, more desperate. A growl vibrated against your lips as he shifted, his hands gripping you tighter before he stood, turning, laying you across the desk in one swift movement.

Papers fluttered to the floor, his knee nudging between your legs as he braced himself above you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his restraint slipping, his need surfacing.

Your hands roamed over his chest, tugging at the buttons of his vest, eager to feel him without the layers between you. Silco’s breath hitched slightly at your insistence, his fingers tightening on your hips in response. The fabric loosened under your touch, the top buttons slipping free as your nails scraped lightly against his exposed skin. He growled against your lips, his mouth trailing down to your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You’re playing with fire, love,” he rasped, his voice thick with want.

“Maybe I want to get burned,” you shot back, your fingers slipping lower, pushing the vest further open.

Silco let out a low chuckle, his lips brushing against your ear. “Careful,” he murmured, his hands sliding down your thighs, “I don’t do half-measures.”

“I know,” you whispered, tilting your head as he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss just beneath your jaw. “That’s why I’m here.”

He pressed closer, his weight pinning you against the desk, his lips finding the hollow of your throat. “Always so eager,” he mused, his fingers tracing down your sides, slipping beneath your blouse, teasing the skin beneath. “And so damn tempting.”

Your breath hitched as his teeth scraped lightly against your pulse. “Then stop talking,” you breathed, a smirk curling at your lips. “And do something about it.”

The heat between you was electric, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. Then, the door slammed open.

Silco didn’t stop—didn’t pull away. His weight remained pressed over you, his breath still warm against your throat. But his head snapped up, his sharp mismatched eyes locking onto the intruder with a deadly glare.

His hand slid to the side, fingers wrapping around the pistol resting beside his ashtray. Without shifting an inch from his place above you, he lifted the gun, aiming it directly at the unfortunate soul who had just interrupted.

“Get. The hell. Out.”

A strangled noise left the intruder’s throat—one of shock and perhaps a touch of fear. They stammered something unintelligible, clearly regretting whatever urgent reason had brought them here.

Silco cocked the gun, his grip steady. “I won’t ask again.”

As the intruder stood frozen in place, your hands continued their work, fingers slowly undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt. You could feel the slight tension in his muscles, the way his breath hitched as your fingers traced over the newly exposed skin.

His grip on the gun didn’t falter, but the slight twitch of his jaw revealed that he was aware—oh, so aware—of your touch. You smirked against his collarbone, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss there, reveling in the contrast between his deadly stillness and the heat rolling between you both.

With a muttered apology, the intruder scrambled backward, slamming the door shut behind them.

Silco exhaled through his nose, his gaze still fixed on the door. Only when the room was silent again did he shift his attention back to you. A slow, dark smirk curled at his lips, his voice low and dangerous.

“Now… where were we?”

MEL

The grand halls of the Piltover Council shimmered under the golden glow of the chandelier lights. Stately, regal, and intimidating as always. But in that moment, they were also completely empty—except for two figures entangled at the grand council table, right at Mel Medarda’s designated seat.

Mel’s fingers traced slow, languid circles against Y/N’s waist, the warmth of her touch seeping through layers of silk and gold-trimmed fabric. Y/N, half-seated, half-pinned against the polished surface, could feel the cool marble beneath her, a stark contrast to the heat between them. She sighed softly as Mel pressed closer, trapping her in place with the gentle yet commanding presence that made it impossible to think of anything else.

“You’re distracted,” Mel murmured against her lips, voice rich like honeyed wine. “You’re always so serious, my love.”

Y/N let out a breathless chuckle. “Says the woman who orchestrates half of Piltover’s political schemes.”

Mel tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. “Exactly. Which is why I know when it’s time to take a break.”

Before Y/N could respond, Mel leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, lingering kiss. It was slow, unhurried—an indulgence neither of them could often afford. Y/N melted into it, her hands sliding up to cradle Mel’s face, fingers tracing along the delicate golden ornaments adorning her.

The tension that had been knotting in both their shoulders, the weight of the Council’s never-ending debates, the pressure of expectations—it all faded into the background. For a moment, there was only warmth, only the way Mel sighed into Y/N’s mouth as their kisses grew more urgent, more desperate.

The world outside their little sanctuary ceased to exist.

Until, of course, the sound of a sharply cleared throat shattered the illusion.

They jerked apart, Mel’s regal composure returning in an instant, though her lips were still slightly parted, a single golden brow arched in intrigue. Y/N, on the other hand, felt her face burn as she turned toward the source of their interruption.

Councilor Hoskel stood a few feet away, arms crossed, an expression hovering between scandalized and deeply amused.

“Well,” he said after a pause, “I suppose I should be grateful that at least some of our esteemed members know how to… ‘negotiate’ effectively.”

Mel, utterly unbothered, hummed and tilted her head toward Y/N. “Would you say we reached an agreeable consensus, darling?”

Y/N, still breathless, exhaled a laugh. “I’d say the matter was well settled.”

Hoskel huffed, shaking his head as he turned on his heel. “I saw nothing,” he muttered as he strode off. “And I’ll continue seeing nothing, provided you keep it outside the Council Hall.”

Mel watched him go, then turned back to Y/N with a satisfied smirk. “That’s one way to adjourn a meeting.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face against Mel’s shoulder. “We’re never going to live this down.”

Mel only laughed, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Perhaps. But I promise you, my love—it was well worth it.”

#arcane #arcane fandom #arcane spice #reader insert #mel x reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce x y/n #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #vander x reader #vander x y/n #vander x you #silco x reader #silco x you #silco x y/n #jayvik x reader #jayce x reader x viktor

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mosskingcreator · 3 days ago

Text

Danny was in pain. Well, he's been in pain for the past few weeks, but he finally managed to get out.

Someone had raided the facility, and he'd taken his chance and run. The dripping ectoplasm might be a problem, but he needs to find some place to hide. He can deal with that later.

Danny flew up to the top of the tallest tree he could find. He could still see the building in the distance, black smoke rising from it. But Danny couldn't go any farther, his vision swam and black spots danced in his vision.

Danny sat on a branch and held tight to the tree. Taking off his scrubs he pressed them to the leaking wound on his chest, ignoring the other dripping injuries.

He had to find a way to replenish his ectoplasm, to heal enough that he can transform back. If he transforms now, he'd never survive the wounds.

"A star is a giant sphere of extremely hot, luminous gas, mostly hydrogen and helium, held together by gravity..." Danny started. If he engages in his obsession enough than he'd be able to heal enough to transform or go somewhere safe. Not home, home isn't safe anymore.

Danny closed his eyes and leaned against the tree.

"The first stage, stars form through the gravitational collapse of giant clouds of dust and gas called Nebulae, which are composed of several different materials and elements,"

Danny's tired...

"Protostars are next in the life cycle..."

He wants to go to sleep so bad.

He wants comfort.

"DANNY!"

Tired eyes pulled open. That sounded like...

"Kori?"

"DANNY!" she yelled, and suddenly she was in front of him.

"Kori," he whispered, leaning into her. She was older than when he'd last seen her, but it was her. She was here.

"Danny friend you must stay awake," she urged, reaching out and carefully holding onto him.

She can't be here, they'll think she's a ghost and they'll take her away and-

"You can't- you can't be here... the're gonn' hurt you-" he had to warn her, he can't let her get hurt too.

"It is alright Danny. My friends are taking care of them. They will not hurt you again." She wad completely confident and sure of herself, how could Danny doubt her?

"Kori," he whispered as the world tilted and went dark.

Honorary Tamaranean

DP x DC Prompt

Danny had learned not to question why Clockwork sends him on random missions. He came out of dire situations where the random missions Clockwork sent him on proved to be actually useful. Even the rewards Clockwork gives Danny will help him down the timeline.

Danny's current reward for doing a good job with his Ghost King related missions? Bonding with Alien Royalty!

He is sent to a planet in his dimension named Tamaran, where he will be staying with the Royal Family for a while, Clockwork even told Danny that he when he returns, it will be as if no time has passed.

Danny spends time with the Princesses and Prince of Tamaran, Komand'r, Koriand'r, and little Ryand'r, the Crown of Flames is a Multiversal Translator, so there's no need for lip contact. All three of them bond in their own ways, Danny and Komand'r are always getting into play fights to see who is stronger. Danny and Koriand'r do general sibling things, and Danny entertains little Ryand'r with his powers. Danny had become a sibling to the three Tamaranean Royal Siblings when his stay with them was halfway through. Danny can even stomach the food of Tamaran (the reanimated foods he eats have given him a stomach of steel).

The Gordanian's attack Tamaran a few weeks after Danny left Tamaran for his own time, not that he knew that he was in the past.

Not too long after Danny returns from his stay on Tamaran is when a bad reveal happens.

Danny is injured and on the run from the GIW, having escaped his captors when a group of some sort raided the facility. He can't go back. His parents gave him to the GIW, and he doesn't want to drag Jazz, Sam, and Tucker into his problems and ruin their chances of a better future.

Danny doesn't know that he's going to run into Koriand'r again, albeit an older Koriand'r, as the Outlaws had raided the GIW facility on request from the Justice League.

#dcu #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #dc comics #danny phantom #danny fenton #koriand'r #red hood and the outlaws #dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp #dc x dp au

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nonotnolan · 2 days ago

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No Regrets

My roommate's body keeps looking at me like I'm supposed to be making the first move. It was weird enough when my roommate and his girlfriend swapped bodies for the weekend, but the unspoken tension was starting to become unbearable. "Seriously, Tiffany, you're starting to creep me out. Don't you and Daniel have plans for tonight?"

She just smiled at me. "No plans. I'm still deciding how I want to spend my evening. Daniel, though... he's taking my body out clubbing tonight. He wants to see how many free drinks he can score, and I think he's also planning to get laid." Gross. I knew better than to say anything out loud, but my face must have given me away. "Don't be such a prude, Jeff. You know we have an open relationship."

I tugged at my collar. "I know, Tiff, I'm sorry. I just... body swaps that cross the gender line still make me uncomfortable. It feels wrong, somehow. And, I mean, technically they are illegal."

"Oh please, get over yourself," she said, tossing herself onto his bed. "Swaps over 12 hours are also illegal, but that didn't stop you from hiring someone to take your Calc exam two weeks ago. You need to learn how to relax. Not everything you were told on Sundays is true, you know. Some things aren't actually all that bad. You're only clutching your pearls because society told you that swapping genders was bad. What harm is there, as long as both people consent?"

I wanted to argue, but I knew Tiffany was absolutely correct. There wasn't anything wrong with the two of them swapping bodies outside of society telling us that men and women could only swap with other men and other women. Which... given the way that their open relationship also defied societal expectations, I suppose it wasn't too much of a surprise that the two of them thought so little about swapping like this. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I... I'm trying, really. You've heard how conservative my childhood was. It's a lot to unlearn."

"Well, maybe it's time to start unlearning," she said, beckoning me closer. "You want to know the real reason I'm still here? It's because of you, stud. I'm here to see you." Did Tiffany just call me a stud? She had to be mocking me, but I could feel myself blushing all the same.

Tiffany started to unbutton my shirt, brushing her fingers along my exposed chest as she did so. I could feel myself growing erect. Were we... were we really doing this? They were in an open relationship, after all, it wasn't like he was helping Tiffany cheat on his roommate. With his roommate? God, Swappers made things confusing.

"I've seen the way you look at Daniel," she said, rubbing a hand across the stubble on my chin. "I love the man, but he's too straight and too clueless to pick up on those stares. And honestly, I can't help but think that you're too sheltered to realize you're even doing it half the time."

"I... thought I was hiding it better," I said, trying to steady my emotions. Her fingers started to tease my nipples, leaving me squirming with raw pleasure. "I still don't know if I'm bisexual, or gay, or just... Mormon. But I didn't think it mattered. He's already in a relationship with you. What I want isn't important."

"He's in an open relationship," she said, staring at me like I was a hunk of meat to be devoured. "He's also not here right now. I'm in control of this body right now, and I want to fuck you senseless. If that's what you want too, well..." Tiffany slipped her hand inside my waistband, giving my manhood a firm squeeze that had me gasping for breath. "Tonight's a perfect night to let loose. No regrets."

I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned in for a quick kiss, which Tiffany returned with tongue. The two of us stripped down as fast as we could, though I made certain not to let her pull me onto the bed with her. "Not on Daniel's bed," I said, dragging her over to my part of the bedroom. "His sheets reek of frat boy sweat, and I doubt he has any lube."

"I, uhh... you're alright with being on top, right?" I asked, as I handed her the bottle of lube from my nightstand. It occurred to me that we hadn't actually talked through any plans, set boundaries, or anything like that. "The way you phrased it, I'm assuming that's what you meant, I just--"

"Stop. Thinking." Seeing Daniel's face looming over me, with a look of pure lust on his face, it was everything I never knew I needed. I started rolling over onto my knees before she yelled at me. "Not like that, stay on your back. I want to see your face as I fuck you senseless."

Tiffany spent the entire time telling me exactly what to do, and it was everything I could have ever wanted. She got me lubed, eased me onto her massive manhood, and railed me like there was no tomorrow. My chest was coated in strands of my own cum, while Daniel's cum slowly leaked out of my ass. I'd never had a no-hands orgasm before, but holy hell I could not believe how amazing that felt.

"I can't believe we just did that," I said, trying to catch my breath. She responded by scooping up some of the jizz off of my torso and putting it into her mouth. She was making an entire production out of licking it off of her finger, and I could feel myself getting hard again. "So, uhh... you... you'll be in Daniel's body for the entire evening?"

"If that's your way of asking me if I'd like to fuck you again? The answer is yes," she said, giving me a wink. "Even better, we might be able to make this a weekly thing," she added, standing up to grab some towels. "I don't think I'll have to fight too hard to convince Daniel to swap. What sort of straight man doesn't enjoy having boobs?"

God, I was falling for her so hard. What had I gotten myself into? Life was going to be a long, awkward hell once my roommate was back in his own body. And yet... I had to admit, I had no regrets.

#male body swap #gay body swap #casual body swap #queer romance #swapper #FxM TF

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gyuuberryy · 2 days ago

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pushing on my buttons!

pairing: bodyguard!jay x rich ceo's daughter!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, tension

synopsis: after a kidnapping attempt, your father hires jay, a cold and infuriating bodyguard you can’t seem to get rid of. you push his buttons at every turn, but as danger closes in, the tension between you turns into something far more dangerous—an undeniable connection neither of you can ignore.

warnings: mentions of blood, a bit of fighting, kissing

note: i'm dropping smth two months later finallyy(i'm still in the middle of exams AGAIN). i feel like this is not my best work, i had a major writer's block with it and ended up making it basic? idk i haven't been feeling well recently with the insane amount of workload i have since the start of this year and the burn out shows in this ughh. i hope the fic isn't too bad TT enjoy!

word count 5.8k

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3 | taglist

the heavy oak doors of your father’s office loomed before you, their polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the hallway chandelier. you paused, your fingers hovering over your phone screen, scrolling through a feed of designer handbags you didn’t need but absolutely wanted.

the text from your father had been curt, almost ominous: “my office. now.”

you rolled your eyes. it was probably about the credit card statement again. you had a perfectly good excuse ready—charity auction, obviously. he’d buy it. he always did.

with a sigh, you pushed the doors open, not bothering to knock. “you rang?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you leaned against the doorframe, still engrossed in your phone.

your father didn’t look up from his desk. “sit,” he commanded, his voice sharp enough to make you glance up.

you blinked. okay. not a good sign.

it was then that you noticed him. the man standing beside your father, a silent shadow in the room. he was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed entirely in black—black tactical pants, black fitted shirt, black boots that looked like they could crush a skull without breaking a sweat. his arms were crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed but somehow radiating intensity. his face was all sharp angles and hard lines, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the room with a precision that made you feel like he’d already dissected every inch of it—and you along with it.

you straightened, your phone slipping into your pocket as you took a step forward. “who’s this?” you asked, your tone light but laced with suspicion.

your father gestured toward the man, his expression unyielding. “this is jay. your new bodyguard.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and absurd. then you laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound that echoed off the mahogany walls. “you’re joking.”

your father didn’t laugh. neither did jay. in fact, jay didn’t so much as twitch. his expression remained impassive, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

you turned back to your father, your laughter fading into a scoff. “this isn’t necessary. i’m not in danger. that whole kidnapping thing? a fluke. it’s been weeks and nothing’s happened.”

your father’s jaw tightened. “which is exactly why you need protection. we’re not taking any chances.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but jay beat you to it. his voice was low, calm, and infuriatingly even. “i’m not here to be liked, just to do my job.”

your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. excuse me?

he met your glare without flinching, his expression as unreadable as a stone wall. he didn’t care. not about your annoyance, not about your defiance, not about you. the realisation made your blood boil.

“congratulations on the worst job in existence,” you said coolly, tilting your head as you studied him. “because i’m not some damsel in distress.”

jay didn’t blink. “right. you handled the last situation so well.”

your jaw dropped. the audacity. “excuse you—”

“enough,” your father interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting this entire conversation. “jay will be with you at all times. this isn’t up for discussion.”

you stared at him, then at jay, who was still standing there like some brooding statue, completely unfazed. your mind raced, already plotting ways to make his life a living hell. fine. if this was happening, you wouldn’t make it easy for him.

you flashed jay a sweet, taunting smile, the kind that usually made people nervous. “try and keep up.”

his lips twitched—just barely—but it wasn’t a smile. more like a challenge accepted. “i don’t plan on falling behind.”

oh, you already hated him. hated the way he looked at you like you were a problem to be solved, hated the way he stood there like he owned the room, hated the way his voice sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. but most of all, you hated that he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by you.

your father exhaled, clearly done with the conversation. “jay will start immediately. i expect you to cooperate.”

you didn’t respond. instead, you turned on your heel and strode toward the door, your heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. you could feel jay’s eyes on your back, tracking your every move, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking over your shoulder. let him try to keep up. you were already planning your first escape.

as the doors swung shut behind you, you couldn’t help but smirk. this was going to be fun.

the first twenty-four hours with jay as your shadow were unbearable. it wasn’t just his constant presence—it’s the way he moves like he knows what you’re about to do before you do it, like some kind of infuriating psychic in tactical gear.

you woke up to find him standing right outside your bedroom door. arms crossed, eyes alert, posture straight. like a soldier. like a statue. like someone who had absolutely no life outside of making yours miserable.

you glare at him, silk robe slipping off your shoulder, hair a mess. “do you ever sleep? or do you just stand there like a creep all night?”

jay doesn’t react. not even a twitch. his gaze flicks over you, assessing, before looking away.

he didn’t react. not even a twitch. his dark eyes flicked over you briefly, assessing, before he looked away, his expression as blank as ever.

“good morning,” he said, his tone flat.

you rolled your eyes and slammed the door in his face.

when you went to get coffee, he was already there, waiting. the barista gave him a once-over, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the faint scar that ran along his jawline. then they glanced at you, their eyebrows raised in a silent question: are you okay? do you need help?

you forced a smile. “he’s harmless,” you said, though the words tasted like a lie. jay didn’t so much as blink.

you grabbed your latte and stormed out, jay falling into step behind you like some kind of silent, brooding ghost. you could feel his eyes on your back, watching, always watching. it was suffocating.

in meetings, it was worse. you sat at the head of the conference table, your laptop open, your team discussing quarterly projections, and there he was—standing against the far wall, arms still crossed, his gaze sweeping the room like he was expecting an ambush at any moment. every time you glanced his way, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable.

you tried to ignore him. you really did. but his presence was like a thundercloud hovering over the room, dark and oppressive. by the time the meeting ended, you were ready to scream.

you had to get rid of him immediately.

attempt #1: the emergency exit

it was simple, really. you waited until you were in the middle of a crowded lobby with jay, your phone pressed to your ear, your face the picture of distress. “no—no, stay right there, i’ll be there in five minutes,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. then you slipped out the back door, quick, smooth, victorious.

you couldn’t help but grin as you rounded the corner, your heart racing with the thrill of escape. finally, some freedom. finally, some—

jay was already there.

leaning against your car, arms still crossed, not even looking at you. like he’d been waiting for hours. like he’d known exactly where you’d go.

you froze, your smile slipping. “how the hell—”

he finally acknowledged you, tilting his head just slightly. his lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. “you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

your fingers clenched into fists. oh. it was war.

attempt #2: the disappearing act

you waited until you were at a charity gala, the kind of event where everyone was too busy sipping champagne and gossipping to notice anything amiss. you slipped into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, your movements quick and deliberate. you ducked behind a potted plant, then made your way to the service entrance, your heart pounding with excitement.

you were almost there. almost free. and then—

“leaving so soon?”

you whirled around, your breath catching in your throat. jay stood in the doorway, his arms still crossed, his expression as calm as ever. he didn’t even look winded.

“how do you keep doing that?” you demanded, your voice rising.

he shrugged, the motion infuriatingly casual. “it’s my job.”

“your job is to annoy me to death?”

“if that’s what it takes to keep you alive, then yes.”

you glared at him, your chest heaving with frustration. he stared back, unflinching, his dark eyes boring into yours. for a moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, and you wanted to so badly give into it and just cause a tantrum. instead, you turned on your heel and stormed back into the gala, jay following close behind.

attempt #3: sensory overload

the mall was a chaotic symphony of chatter, clattering shopping bags, and the faint hum of pop music playing over the speakers. you strode through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, your eyes darting toward the exit signs. jay was a step behind you, his presence as unshakable as ever. his dark eyes scanned the crowd, his posture tense, like he was expecting a sniper to take a shot at any moment.

you rolled your eyes. “relax, rambo. it’s a mall, not a war zone.”

he didn’t respond. of course he didn’t. he just kept walking, his gaze flicking toward you every few seconds, like he was making sure you hadn’t somehow vanished into thin air.

you gritted your teeth. this was supposed to be your day. you had a date with someone your mutual friend had set you up with. your father had forbidden you from going, but since when had you ever listened to him? and yet, here was jay, ruining everything like some overgrown shadow you couldn’t shake.

you bit back a sigh. if you wanted to shake him, you’d have to get creative.

spotting a perfume shop up ahead, you darted inside, the overwhelming scent of floral and citrus hitting you instantly. jay followed without hesitation, his towering frame making the narrow aisles feel even smaller.

“why are we here?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.

“to test some new scents,” you replied innocently, grabbing a random bottle and spraying it on your wrist. “you wouldn’t understand.”

jay raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

you tried a few more perfumes, using up the space on your wrists and arms. finally, you turned to him, holding up a bottle.

“hold out your arm.”

jay blinked. “what?”

“you’re supposed to test it on skin,” you said, your tone overly patient. “and i’m out of space. come on.”

reluctantly, he extended his arm. you sprayed the perfume lightly on his wrist and leaned in, inhaling deeply.

jay tensed under your touch, his muscles stiffening as your fingers brushed his skin. you glanced up, noticing the tightness in his jaw, but you didn’t comment.

“it’s not bad,” you said, tilting your head. “but maybe something lighter.”

you reached for another bottle, quickly spraying it on his other wrist. this time, you didn’t stop at one spray. you pressed the nozzle again and again, filling the air with an overpowering mix of scents.

jay sneezed once, then twice, stumbling back a step as he tried to clear his nose.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice muffled between sneezes.

“just testing!” you said, holding up your hands in mock innocence. “you’re being dramatic.”

jay glared at you, but before he could recover, you dropped the perfume bottle and bolted, weaving through the crowded store and out into the mall. you didn’t look back. you didn’t need to. you could hear his footsteps behind you, heavy and determined.

your heart raced as you sprinted through the mall, dodging shoppers and strollers. you spotted a clothing store up ahead, its entrance tucked away in a quieter corner. perfect. you ducked inside, your breath coming in short gasps as you scanned the store. the dressing rooms. that was your best bet.

you darted toward them, slipping into the first stall you saw. you yanked the curtain closed, your chest heaving as you pressed your back against the wall. for a moment, there was silence. then you heard it—the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching the stall.

the curtain flew open, and there he was. jay. his chest was rising and falling slightly, his dark eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped into the stall, his body crowding yours as he pinned you against the wall. the curtain fell shut behind him, enclosing you in the small, dimly lit space.

you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. he was so close you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his pulse jumped in his neck. his hands were braced on either side of your head, his body caging you in. the air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your stomach twist and your heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with running.

“you’re not as clever as you think you are,” he said, his voice low and rough.

you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “and you’re not as scary as you think you are.”

his lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk. “try me.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your tongue. his eyes dropped to your lips, just for a second, and something shifted between you. the air crackled with electricity, the kind that made your skin prickle and your breath hitch. you could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his body seemed to press closer without actually moving.

for a moment, neither of you moved. then jay stepped back, his expression shuttering as he regained control. “let’s go,” he said, his tone clipped.

you didn’t argue. for once, you didn’t have the words.

the party was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume, champagne, and the faint hum of a live jazz band. you stood near the centre of the room, dressed in a sleek black gown that hugged your figure perfectly, a glass of champagne in hand. you laughed at something your friend said, the sound light and carefree, but your attention was elsewhere.

jay.

he was standing across the room, leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on you. he wasn’t even trying to hide it. he was watching you like a hawk, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense enough to make your skin prickle.

your friend leaned in, her voice low and teasing. “he’s been looking at you all night.”

you shrugged, pretending not to care. “who? jay? he’s just doing his job.”

but the truth was, you did care. you were hyper-aware of him now, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. and it annoyed you. it annoyed you that he could stand there, so calm and collected, while you felt like you were unravelling.

so you decided to push him.

you flirted with everyone but him. you laughed a little too loudly at a joke a handsome stranger made. you let your hand linger on the arm of a guy who clearly had no idea what personal space was. you disappeared into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, pretending jay didn’t exist.

but he did. he always did.

suddenly, a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with a cocky grin—stepped into your space, his hand hovering near your waist as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. his breath smelled like whisky, the proximity way too close for your comfort.

you froze, your smile faltering. before you could react, jay was there.

he moved like a shadow, swift and silent, stepping between you and the man with a presence that was impossible to ignore. his voice was cool but sharp, cutting through the noise of the party like a knife. “hands off.”

the man blinked, his grin faltering as he took in jay’s imposing figure. “whoa, man, i was just—”

“i don’t care what you were just doing,” jay said, his tone low and dangerous. “back off.”

the man hesitated, his eyes flicking between you and jay, before he finally raised his hands in surrender and slunk away. you stared after him, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest.

when you turned back to jay, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “you have no idea what you’re doing.”

your breath caught. “what are you talking about?”

he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice rough and tinged with something that sounded almost like frustration. “flirting with strangers. disappearing into crowds. acting like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “i can take care of myself.”

“can you?” he asked, his tone challenging. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your tongue. he was close—too close—his body crowding yours, his heat radiating through the thin fabric of your dress. you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, a mix of vanilla and something woodsy, and it made your head spin.

as the night wore on, you couldn’t stop thinking about it—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, rough and low and so, so close. you caught yourself glancing at him more than once, your heart skipping a beat every time your eyes met his.

oh.

so he did care.

it happens slowly. or maybe it doesn’t. maybe it’s been happening this whole time, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for you to notice. but now, you do.

you start noticing the way he moves. always a step ahead, always positioning himself between you and anything that could be a threat. his sleeves are always rolled up, revealing the veins that line his forearms, his hands steady and sure. you notice the way he watches you, his dark eyes scanning every room like he’s mapping out every possible danger, but it’s never just that. there’s something else in his gaze, something you can’t quite name.

and worse? you start feeling it.

the heat in your chest when his hand brushes yours as he passes you a coffee. the frustration that coils in your stomach when someone else looks at him for too long. the way your breath catches when he says your name instead of brat or princess or whatever sarcastic nickname he’s come up with that day.

this is a problem.

but you handle it the way you always do—by pushing him.

it’s late, with the city feeling quiet, almost peaceful, and the only light comes from the flickering neon sign of a 24-hour diner. you’re sitting in a booth by the window, picking at a plate of fries you didn’t really want but ordered anyway because you were too stubborn to admit you were hungry. jay sits across from you, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the nearly empty diner like it’s a potential battlefield.

you roll your eyes. “relax, jay. the only danger here is the cholesterol in these fries.”

he just takes a sip of his black coffee, his expression as unreadable as ever.

you lean back in the booth, crossing your arms over your chest. “you know, you don’t have to babysit me 24/7. i’m not a child.”

his eyes flick to yours, sharp and assessing. “could’ve fooled me.”

you glare at him. “excuse me?”

he sets his coffee cup down, his voice low and even. “you act like rules don’t apply to you. like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

your jaw tightens. “and you act like you’re my dad. newsflash—you’re not.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the tension between you is thick, almost suffocating, and you can feel it building, building, building until it finally snaps.

“why do you even care so much?” you demand, your voice rising just enough to draw the attention of the tired-looking waitress behind the counter.

jay exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t get it, do you?”

your heartbeat stutters. “then explain it to me.”

for a second, he says nothing. he just looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure you out. then he stands, slow and deliberate, and slides into the booth beside you. he’s close now, closer than he’s ever let himself be, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of your shirt.

you don’t back away.

his eyes flicker to your lips, and your breath catches. the air between you is so thin, so sharp you can almost taste it.

he leans in, his voice low and rough. “you have no idea what i’d do to keep you safe.”

your pulse is in your throat, waiting, waiting, waiting.

but before anything can happen—

the bell above the diner door jingles, and a group of loud, laughing teenagers spills inside, shattering the moment.

jay pulls back instantly, his jaw tightening as he slides out of the booth. he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word. he just walks to the counter, his posture rigid, like nothing happened.

like nothing almost happened.

but you know better.

you press a hand to your chest, trying to steady your heartbeat, but it’s no use. your mind is racing, replaying the moment over and over again—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, the way your body had reacted to his nearness.

this is getting dangerous.

later, as you sit in the back of the car on the way home, you can’t stop thinking about it. jay is in the driver’s seat, his eyes fixed on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. you stare at the back of his head, your thoughts a tangled mess.

you think about the way he’d stepped between you and that guy at the party, his voice sharp and commanding. you think about the way he’d leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

and you think about the way he’d pulled away, like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean anything.

but it did. you know it did.

you mentally groan, leaning your head against the window. this is a problem. a big problem. because no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, you can’t deny it anymore.

you like him.

and that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

you don’t talk about it.

the almost-kiss, the tension that stains every interaction now—it hangs between you like a live wire, sharp and charged. you find yourself watching him more, catching the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. his gaze lingers a little too long, his movements a little too deliberate, and it drives you insane.

but you don’t talk about it.

instead, you push. you push him, you push yourself, you push the boundaries of whatever this is between you. and he pushes back, always steady, always in control, until—

one day it happens fast. too fast.

you’re walking back to the car after an event, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. jay is a step behind you, his presence a constant, grounding force. you’re arguing about something stupid—something meaningless—because that’s what you do now. you bicker, you snipe, you push each other’s buttons, all while pretending the tension between you doesn’t exist.

and then, out of nowhere, it happens.

you don’t even see it coming. one moment, you’re stepping off the curb, and the next, jay is moving—swift, silent, and utterly precise. he shoves you out of the way, his body shielding yours as a figure lunges at you from the shadows.

there’s a flash of metal, a grunt of pain, and then the sound of footsteps retreating into the night.

you stumble, catching yourself against the car, your heart pounding in your chest. “jay—”

he’s already turning, his hand pressed to his side, his breathing steady despite the blood seeping through his fingers. “get in the car.”

you stare at him, your mind racing. “you’re bleeding. we need to go to the hospital—l”

“it’s nothing, just a scratch” he says, his voice calm, like this is just another day on the job. like he didn’t just take a knife for you.

but it’s not nothing. it’s not nothing because your hands are shaking as you reach for him, your fingers brushing against the warm, sticky blood staining his shirt. “jay—”

“get in the car,” he repeats, his tone sharper this time. “now.”

you don’t argue. you can’t. your mind is a blur as you climb into the passenger seat, your eyes never leaving him as he slides behind the wheel. his movements are steady, controlled, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel.

the drive home is silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. you keep glancing at him, your chest tight with something you can’t quite name. fear. guilt. something else.

when you finally arrive, you follow him inside, your hands still trembling. he heads straight for the bathroom, and you trail after him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“let me see,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn’t argue this time. he just sits on the edge of the bathtub, his shirt already half-off, revealing the deep gash along his side. it’s not fatal, not even close, but it’s enough to make your stomach twist.

you grab the first aid kit from under the sink and kneel in front of him, your hands shaking as you clean the wound. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make a sound, but you can feel his eyes on you, heavy and unreadable.

“you shouldn’t have done that,” you say, your voice breaking. “you shouldn’t have—”

“it’s my job,” he interrupts, his tone calm, like that explains everything.

but it doesn’t. not to you. not when your hands are stained with his blood, not when your chest feels like it’s about to collapse under the weight of everything you’re feeling.

“don’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “don’t do that again.”

he looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours, and for the first time, you see it—the crack in his armour. the flicker of something raw, something real.

“you don’t get it,” he says, his voice low and rough. “i’d do it again. every time.”

your breath catches, your hands still pressed against his side. “why?”

he doesn’t answer. not with words, at least. instead, he reaches up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch so gentle it makes your chest ache.

and that’s it. that’s the breaking point.

you don’t think. you don’t hesitate. you just pull him in, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperation and relief. for a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t respond, and you’re terrified you’ve made a mistake.

but then his hands are in your hair, his mouth moving against yours, and it’s like the world stops. the tension, the anger, the fear, it all melts away, leaving nothing but the two of you.

the room is silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the overhead light. jay’s hands are still tangled in your hair, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. you can feel the rapid beat of his heart where your hand rests against his chest, and it’s almost comforting, knowing he’s as affected by this as you are.

but then he pulls back, his expression shuttering as he regains control. “we shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and rough.

you blink, your chest tightening at his words. “why not?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he stands, his movements stiff as he turns away from you. “because it complicates things.”

you stare at him, your heart sinking. “complicates things? jay, you just took a knife for me. i think things are already complicated.”

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t understand.”

“then explain it to me,” you snap, your frustration bubbling over. “because i’m tired of pretending like this—whatever this is—doesn’t exist.”

he turns to look at you, his dark eyes blazing with something you can’t quite name. “you think i don’t feel it too? you think i don’t want—” he cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as he looks away. “it doesn’t matter what i want. my job is to keep you safe. that’s it.”

you step closer, your hands trembling at your sides. “and what if i don’t want you to just be my bodyguard? what if i want more?”

he doesn’t respond. not with words, at least. but you can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. for a moment, you think he might give in, might finally let himself feel something.

but then he steps back, his expression hardening. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

you laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “don’t i? because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’re the one who’s scared.”

his eyes narrow, and for a second, you think you’ve pushed him too far. but then he exhales, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “you’re right. i am scared. because if something happens to you—if i let myself care too much and i can’t protect you—” he cuts himself off, his voice breaking. “i can’t lose you.”

your breath catches, your chest tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. “jay—”

he doesn’t let you finish. instead, he steps forward, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you again. this time, it’s softer, slower, like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you. and you let him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pull him closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. “i can’t promise this will be easy,” he says, his voice low and rough. “but i can promise i’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you swallow, your throat tight with emotion. “that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

you don’t talk about it for a full twenty-four hours.

not because you regret it. god, no. if anything, the memory of his hands on you, his lips against yours, plays on a loop in your mind, leaving you breathless every time. but now, there’s no going back. no pretending this isn’t real. no pretending you don’t feel the way his presence sets your skin on fire, or the way your heart races when he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

jay is still jay. still overprotective, still infuriating, still the same stoic bodyguard who drives you up the wall. but now?

now, every argument ends with him pulling you in by the waist, his voice low and rough as he murmurs, “you’re impossible,” before silencing you with a kiss.

now, every lingering stare actually leads to something—a brush of his hand against yours, a heated glance that makes your stomach flip, a moment where the tension between you becomes too much to ignore.

and now, your father figures it out almost immediately.

it happens during a family dinner, of all things. you’re sitting at the table, picking at your food while jay sits in his usual spot by you. your father is at the head of the table, his sharp gaze flicking between you and jay with a calculating look that makes your stomach sink.

you try to act normal. you really do. but when jay’s hand brushes against yours as he passes you a glass of water, and you catch yourself smiling at him without thinking, your father clears his throat.

“so,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “when were you planning on telling me?”

you freeze, your fork halfway to your mouth. “telling you what?”

your father raises an eyebrow, gesturing between you and jay. “about this.”

you feel your face heat, your heart pounding in your chest. “i—what are you talking about?”

your father sighs, rubbing his temples like he’s already done with this conversation. “at least it’s him.”

jay freezes, his posture stiffening as he looks at your father. you gape, your mind racing. “excuse me?”

your father shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “you were always a handful, but he can handle it.”

you stare at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. this is not the reaction you were expecting. not even close. you were prepared for yelling, for threats, for jay to be fired on the spot. but this? this casual acceptance? it’s almost worse.

you turn to jay, still reeling. “is this really happening?”

jay looks equally disturbed, his jaw tight as he meets your father’s gaze. “sir, i—”

your father holds up a hand, cutting him off. “don’t. just… keep her out of trouble. that’s all i ask.”

and just like that, the conversation is over. your father goes back to his meal like nothing happened, leaving you and jay to exchange a stunned look.

later, when you’re alone in your room, jay leans against the door, his arms crossed as he watches you pace back and forth. “well,” he says, his voice dry, “that could’ve gone worse.”

you stop pacing, turning to glare at him. “worse? he basically gave us his blessing. that’s not worse. that’s… i don’t even know what that is.”

jay shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “guess you’re stuck with me.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away when he steps closer, his hands settling on your waist. “lucky me,” you mutter, though the way your heart skips a beat betrays your words.

jay’s smirk softens into something warmer, his eyes searching yours. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you don’t respond. not with words, at least. instead, you lean into him, your hands resting against his chest as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “just don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

he chuckles, the sound low and warm, before leaning down to kiss you. and as his lips brush against yours, you realise something.

maybe, just maybe, you don’t want to pull away.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #jay #jay park #jay x reader #jay imagines #jay fics #jay oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au #jongseong park #jay enhypen #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader

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kxtsukixoxo · 3 days ago

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𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🥞 ／ ⋆ ۪ control. ft ; sero hanta

one ; sex is sex, and sero hanta has been through a hard week, you just so happen to be his saviour one random night. mdni. ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!PARTYNEXTDOOR P4 ft ; mha boys

sero had one mission, just get his dick squeezed and leave. the man was sexually frustrated he couldn’t care for any small talk, he needed someone who needed to be fucked just as bad as he did. for some odd reason, you stood out to him. the backless cocktail dress, gleamed underneath the poorly installed ceiling lights, tattoos from your neck that drove down to your ankle, soft glimmering eyeshadow accompanied with bold cappuccino lips. for some reason, you screamed sex. sex with no strings attached.

sero felt himself gliding towards you before he could even register moving. swiftly and smoothly, taking a seat on the barstool next to you, your lips still intact with the glass of martini, as you watched him without turning your head.

placing your glass down, your freshly manicured nails tapped the marble surface. “i don’t need you buying me drinks, if that’s what you’re here for” sero chuckled, as his tongue fiddled with his lip piercing, “aren’t you a cheeky one” taking in sero’s features, you took his wildly styled mullet into account, along with the white button-up that complimented his build, his face adorned with silver, just along his right eyebrow, the lip piercing he was currently playing with and earrings flooded everywhere they possibly could on both his ears.

well fuck.

“no strings attached.” you repeated, as sero walked you through his apartment. he chuckled as you looked at him, wondering if he was serious about this “told ya cutie, js’ need my dick relieved”

you turned around, placing your hands on his chest, “i’m all yours then.”

slipping the soft withery satin material off your glittery fragranced skin, sero nipped at your shoulder as your hands entangled into his messy hair, “let me be in control” he muttered inbetween nips, admiring the considerately placed marks, the same ones that would stare right back at you the next morning, reminiscing on the night before. sero placed you onto his plush duvet, carefully as if you were a glass rose, admiring the site infront him, fiddling hurriedly with his jeans, eager to get them off as he positioned himself infront of you, your hands splayed over your head, as you watched him impatiently rutting your hips. “look at you,” he cooed, “so eager for me hm?”

he gently aligns his tip with your entrance, so slowly pushing in as you grab onto his bicep to steady yourself, holding your breath as you feel him slowly stretch you out, feeling a sudden pop causing a gasp to escape your lips. your legs hugged his waist, as he buried himself inside, you whined painfully, “atta girlll…i gotchu baby” he reassured you as he caressed your chin.

sero spoke to you as if he hadn’t met you in a bar and brought you into his home, just to fuck. sero reassured you and fucked you like he’s been doing it for years.

placing gentle kisses along your collarbone, making sure to look up at you through his hazy eyes as he continues his movement.

“mmm, yr’ so tight..”, he mutters beneath a groan,, building up his thrusts more rough, the pleasure so intense and unfamiliar as you whimper against his lips once he dips down to place a chaste kiss against yours.

you grabbed onto his bicep harder, as your legs tightened around his waist, alarming sero.

“hm? what is it, pretty?”, he hums against your neck, his thrusts the perfect level of rough for you as he uses two of his long fingers to rub circles around your clit.

you gasp at the secondary pleasure from sero’s fingers, “feels too good.”, you manage to get out between broken breaths.

“no strings attached cariño”, he teases as you feel the gradual buildup of pleasure knotting in your stomach, your legs tensing up as you let out a string of soft moans.

“fuck, you gonna come? so fast?”, he lets out a breathy chuckle, speeding up his pace on your clit while his thrusts grow lazier and rougher.

you nod mindlessly, “i- i think so..”

“don’t think i’m far off either..”, he states, his voice growing hoarse as he feels his own buildup, letting out soft groans as he continues rutting into you.

once he starts feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your orgasm takes over, he’s absolutely done for, holding out for any second he could before pulling out quickly, pumping his cock over you as his cum sprays over your abdomen, his sweet moans echoing the walls of your room, as you came undone.

you placed a kiss on his soft lips, as you tilted your head at him, teasing him “that look doesn’t really give no strings attached sex”

“yeah? what are you gonna do about it?”

@qyuin

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hitomisuzuya · 3 days ago

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husband scaramouche x fem!reader. head canons. fluff. soft!scara.

i really got the urge to write headcanons about husband scara, and how he would act with a pregnant wife. this is mainly cute headcanons. i may do the same thing with childe and aventurine.

when you announce to scaramouche that you are pregnant, he kneels in front of you and puts his hand on your stomach. "there is a cretin growing inside you?" despite his..unique choice of words, there is a hint of wonder and pride in his voice. once you scold him for said choice of words, and he tries again, he puts his ear to your stomach and says, "hello in there? are you a girl or a boy? whatever you are, i am waiting to welcome you into this world."

yeah, you definitely married him for a reason. looking down at him, your heart swells with so much love that you thought it might burst. this man, the feared balladeer, notorious for so many things is also your husband, the very same man hovering his hand so gently over your belly.

scaramouche would have this fierce need to be a good parent because he has already been the victim of having a shitty parent. there is no way he would do the same thing to his child.

that being said, he also takes being a husband very seriously. he even is a bit old fashioned about it. no wife of his would work if she didn't have to. of course, you could freely choose to work. he wouldn't stop you, but he certainly didn't have to like it. the way he sees it, his wife is strong, but if he can be strong for her, he can and he will. he is the protector. the provider and that was that.

his wife is the center of his world. he also married you for a reason. you don't let him get away with his shit. you argue with him, and back talk him without fear. you tell him what's what while still being patient with him. you have shown him qualities like being gentle and caring still exist. and he would burn all of teyvat and celestia itself if anything dared take you away from him.

whatever his wife wants, his wife gets, pretty much.

also, the kind of husband that says he doesn't want cats, but then you find him napping with said kitten sleeping curled up on his chest. you want cats and other pets, and he can't say no to you. but also know this, he genuinely enjoys having pets. you gotta know when to look at the right times to see them. moments like the one you took a picture of. they do happen. and often.

during your pregnancy, he is incredibly on top of things. he keeps all of your doctors appointments carefully noted. he makes them in advance on the exact day that they should be. if the doctor wanted to see you back in a week for some tests, the appointment was scheduled exactly one week later, at the same time as the previous appointment. he is incredibly particular.

really, the doctors and nurses have never seen anything like it before. this man would background check everyone if he could. twice.

literally fort knox level protection anytime you go out. there is not a chance anyone will come close to accidentally bumping into you. you had to have a talk with him about snapping at people he thought walked too close to you. twice. he struggles with improvement in this area to say the least.

if you have some crazy pregnancy cravings food in the middle of the night. it could be at 3am and he wouldn't care. he would be out the door getting it. in fact, man would start a war over it. "i don't care if that's what not you do. my wife is pregnant. i say you can do it, so you can do it."

when it's time for you to go on bed rest, he makes sure he is doing everything for you. if you needed anything, he got it for you.

when you found out you were pregnant, you also had this thought: 'god help the doctors and nurses working when i go into labor. i don't they will be prepared for scaramouche.' and you were right.

the nurses at your doctors office even put notes about him in your chart for the emergency room and hospital staff to look at in advance.

scaramouche makes sure everything is done straight to the letter. and that includes little things like your iv getting put in. he is even able to calculate the exact amount of time it takes for your iv drip bag to empty and is calling the nurse to change it. don't take this as being overbearing, he is just very nervous and scared. and this is how he deals with it. he wants to be able to help if the slightest thing goes wrong.

that just doesn't always show in the most polite ways to the staff sometimes.

the look on his face when he hears his child cry for the first time, and holds them for the first time is so soft. like he has seen one of the most beautiful things in this whole world besides his wife. it even makes the doctors and the nurses think that dealing with his colorful temperament was worth it just to see that look on his face.

#genshin impact #fem!reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #husband scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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crowsofdarkness · 1 day ago

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After weeks of arguing, you thought your relationship with Bucky was near the end. That was until you held something positive in your hand.

18+ CW's below the cut(angst, language, unprotected pinv in Bucky's computer chair, Bucky having a sudden breeding kink)

The door slamming in the small confines of my apartment echoed causing me to jump, doing whatever I could to keep the tears at bay. I wouldn't cry, not for him. Not for Bucky. Even though the moment he walked in the door, all I wanted to do was cry not only because of the constant arguing but because I missed him terribly. He was here physically but emotionally, Bucky was checked out.

"Asshole," I grumbled under my breath, eyes boring daggers into the closed door of his office/studio.

It had been weeks of non stop fighting yet barely speaking to each other. He’d been gone on missions constantly so he could avoid being home. When I needed him the most, he was gone.

Ignoring the thoughts plaguing my existence lately, I blew out a shaky breath and forced myself to turn back towards the kitchen counter. The exhaustion had been buried deep in my bones for the last couple of weeks and I didn’t think it had anything to do with working almost every day. All I wanted to do was curl in bed to sleep the rest of the evening away. Even though Bucky's words from our fight this morning before I left for work kept pestering me.

"I haven't thought much about the future. I'm trying to focus on getting myself better, mentally, before having kids."

I asked him in the middle of yet another argument where he thought this relationship was going because I made the mistake of mentioning how I felt like things were stale between us. Bucky didn't think of the future. Of our future. He only thought of the now.

It had been weeks of arguing. Weeks of walking on eggshells around each other. Weeks of not having sex. And weeks of keeping a secret to myself. Now that I knew how Bucky felt, I couldn't decide on if I should continue to keep it to myself or tell him which could potentially ruin everything.

The urge to cry burned in my throat as I snatched the bag off of the kitchen counter and locked myself in the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long moment, noting the dark circles under my eyes.

Averting my gaze away from the mirror, I dug out the box from the bag and nearly choked on a breath when I read over the letters once more. I nearly dropped it in the pharmacy when the realization began to sink in.

Pregnancy Test.

I had missed my period last month and it was coming up on when I was supposed to get it this month but with how I’d been feeling, I knew I wouldn’t be getting my period this month either.

That night was a night where we had a huge blowout argument, both of us questioning if we loved another. Deep down we knew we still loved each other and it was wrong for us to question it. But both of us were stubborn so instead of admitting our love, we decided to fuck out our frustrations; Bucky dragging me to the shower with him as I wrapped my legs around his midsection, marking his neck as mine while his cock slammed into me. Afterwards, Bucky helped me to our bed and apologized for the fight as he held me against his chest. I took the morning after pill later that afternoon once we realized we weren’t safe which is why I was hoping the test would be negative. Maybe the reason why I missed my period was because of all the stress I’d been under.

“Might as well get this over with,” I grumbled under my breath while ripping open the box.

It came with two tests and I figured it would be better if I used both so after peeing on both sticks, I set them on the counter and washed my hands. These next five minutes were going to be incredibly slow so after I changed into one of Bucky’s shirts and opted out of wearing pants, I paced the bathroom.

“Shit,” I clutched my chest when the timer on my phone went off.

As I reached for the tests which were overturned, I paused for a moment wondering if maybe I should have been doing this with Bucky.

“If he wasn’t such an asshole,” I muttered to the thought in my head and turned over the two tests.

My heart was in my ears, in my throat, and in the depths of my stomach when I saw the one word that sealed our fate.

Positive.

Both tests were positive.

“Fuck me,” I breathed while resting a hand on my stomach, the tears finally falling.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that even though we were fighting, Bucky would be fine with whatever I decided to do. It was my choice. But would he stay with me? The Avengers seemed to be all over the world, helping people who needed it, hence why Bucky had been in a mood lately. I knew his anger wasn't directly related to me but because he’d been overworked. I also knew that didn’t give him the right to take it out on me.

Pulling up Bucky’s text thread on my phone, shaking fingers worked out a text even though he was still in the next room.

Me: I need to talk to you. It’s important. Can you meet me in the living room please?

Bucky 🩶: Not right now.

With a snarl, I snatched the tests off the bathroom counter and stormed out into his office, letting the door smack against the wall. Bucky didn’t bother to look away from the book on his lap as he sat on his computer chair.

“Congratulations. You’re going to be a father,” I snapped before turning to walk away.

The chair creaked as Bucky leaned forward to gaze down at his desk, a soft breath catching in his throat.

“Doll,” his vibranium fingers grazed my wrist, halting me. “Wait.”

“What? Are you going to claim I’m faking this?” I snapped, slicing him with my gaze.

“I-,” Bucky’s face softened as he looked back at the pregnancy tests. “You’re pregnant?”

I let the anger fade momentarily when I heard the sincerity in his voice; the slight excitement.

“Yeah, I guess so. I missed my period last month and I’ve been so exhausted lately. Not to mention my boobs have been really sore,” I cringed while running a hand over my chest.

Bucky glanced up at my breasts with a small smirk but then he let his gaze lower on my stomach where it rested for a long few beats of silence. Fear of what he would do or say weighed heavy on my shoulders causing me to remain frozen in front of him. The air in the room was thick with an unreadable tension and the ringing in my ears was deafening. I couldn’t even hear our shared breathing as Bucky continued to stare at my stomach before his large hands rested there.

“Hi,” he breathed. “I’m your dad.”

I dragged a finger over his cheek, those ocean eyes I adored so much gazed up at me. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, doll?” Bucky asked with furrowed brows.

“For everything. For avoiding fixing things between us by working non stop.”

I rattled off which made him link fingers with me and brought me down onto his lap, both of us now sitting in his computer chair. He rested his hands over my hip, slowly raising up the hem of my shirt so he could drag calloused fingers over my skin. It was the most contact we’ve had in a week and I leaned farther into him. His nose dragged over my jaw, breathing me in.

“I’m sorry for all of the hurtful things I’ve said. I’m sorry for ignoring your feelings when I should have asked you up front what was wrong. I’m sorry for locking myself away with work instead of fixing things between us,” Bucky apologized.

I looked deeper into his eyes, taking in the slight freckles on his face. “Can I be honest?”

When Bucky nodded, I continued. “You freaked me out when you said you never thought of our future and now that I’m pregnant, I’m worried you’re going to leave.”

“Absolutely not,” he cupped my cheek, dragging his thumb just underneath my eye to wipe away the stray tears. “I’ve never thought about the future until you came into my life, doll. I might not express it enough, which is my fault but please know you’re in my future. Especially now.”

His free hand grazed over my stomach and I nodded into the grasp on my cheek, leaving a kiss on the inside of his palm.

“Can you promise me one thing?” I asked.

“Anything.”

Biting my lip, I spoke. “Can you promise not to propose to me just because I’m pregnant? I want you to propose because you want to, not because you feel like you have too.”

Something flashed in his eyes but Bucky eventually nodded. “Of course.”

While sitting on his lap, the chair continued to creak underneath our shared weight and I sighed, ready to get off which caused him to tighten his grip on me.

“Stay,” he breathed in the crook of my neck. “I need to show you how sorry I am.”

Quickly, Bucky’s lips were on mine in a leisurely kiss. It started off like how our first kiss did, like he was testing the waters again. I nearly sobbed into the kiss when I felt the love pour out of him. I’d been desperate to feel this way again. With his hands on my hips, he began moving me up and down his lap, the hardness of his cock pressing against the thin material of my panties. His name fell from my lips, almost immediately swallowed by his tongue as it explored my mouth; tasting me.

Vibranium fingers slinked up my shirt to graze over my back before Bucky tossed it over my head and down to the floor, breaking our kiss. Lust bleed in his already dark eyes as he looked at my stomach, his cock straining in his jeans.

“Shit,” he groaned while pressing kisses along my chest. “I can’t wait to see you round with my baby.”

A moan fell from my lips as I exposed more of myself to Bucky, his teeth now grazing over my nipples. Along with my sore breasts, my nipples were extra sensitive.

“Bucky,” I pulled on his shirt.

He immediately understood and helped me work it off. Immediately my nails raked along his chest as my lips met his again in a fiery kiss, this one more intense than the last. With a gentle tap to my ass, I raised my hips slightly so Bucky could drag down my panties with a bit of maneuvering. However with his jeans, it would have taken way more manuerving on his part to slide them off completely.

“We should move to the bed,” I suggested, breathless.

Bucky shook his head, keeping his lips on the current mark he was working on my neck. “Absolutely not. I want you to sit on my cock while I sit on the chair.”

Feeling feisty, I pulled away from him slightly to gaze down at him. “Really? This has nothing to do with Steve making it slip the other day how he and his girlfriend did something eerily similar to this.”

He rolled his eyes with a groan. “Please don’t bring up Steve having sex right now.”

When he motioned towards his unzipped jeans, I let out a soft giggle and then reached my hand in his briefs to grab his cock, already so warm and hard.

“I’ve missed this,” I whispered, gathering his precum to drag it over his head.

“Doll,” my name came out through gritted teeth as Bucky rested his head on my shoulder. “I need to be inside of you. Please.”

Pulling his cock out from his briefs completely, I dragged it between my folds a few strokes before sinking down on him; both of us letting out a loud groan of pleasure. It had been so long since we’ve felt this so I knew we wouldn’t last long.

“Fuck,” Bucky strangled out while wrapping his arms around me to bring me closer. “I can’t wait to watch your belly get round with my baby.”

I mewled in response, mouth busy with leaving dark marks across his neck while one of my hands slipped between our bodies to press circles on my clit, bringing me closer to the edge.

His cock twitched inside of me, indicating he was close when his hips stilled. “You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my kid. Your belly and tits-oh shit."

“Don’t stop,” I begged while riding him faster this time, the chair nearly falling over.

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was strained so I brushed away the hair from his sweat slicked forehead. “I’m going to fill you up over and over again.”

I nodded as the coil in my stomach began to ignite in a blaze of ecstasy, my orgasm about to snap.

“I love you,” I cried out when my body finally snapped, arousal coating Bucky’s cock.

With one final thrust, he followed me over the edge as he filled me with his cum and breathlessly announced his love for me as well. Falling into him with exhaustion, Bucky lifted me from the chair and carried me through our apartment towards the bathroom.

“Are you alright?” He questioned while still carrying me.

I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay.”

Setting me on the closed toilet seat, he turned on the shower and removed his pants while we waited for the steam to bellow around us.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes blurbs

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diceroll65 · 3 days ago

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I have an idea what if we got Billie x sensitive fem reader and like we accidentally broke a cup and Billie was near and she seen us have the biggest pout and teary eyes trying to clean up the glass and apologizing for braking the glass. just an idea maybe

shattered - b.e

gf!billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: after a tough week, billie invites you over for a night in. you attempt to get yourself some water, but drop the glass. billie notices how out of it you were, and comforts you.

warnings: fluff, glass breaking, comfort

it was early friday evening, and you had just gotten off the clock. you've been talking to billie about what's been going on at work throughout the week, and she tells you to come over after the last work day. you take out your key to her place, placing it in the lock and softly twisting. you push open the door as you kick off your shoes, placing them in their designated place on billie's shoe rack. billie comes to greet you with a kiss, while taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it on the counter. "hi, my love" she says, opening her arms. you instantly walk in between her arms, molding into her touch.

billie walks over to the island, now leaning over it while ordering in from the vegan restaurant down the street. you notice you haven't had any water yet that day, so you head to the cabinet to grab a glass. a cramp ensues in your hand and causes your grip to loosen from the glass, resulting in the glass tumbling out of your hand. as soon as it hits the floor, it splits and causes slivers of glass to disperse everywhere. “fuck” you whisper while grabbing a paper towel, getting down on your knees trying to pick up the blue shards. billie’s head whips around as she hears the crash, looking around the counter to see you hyperventilating hovering over the glass. “baby” she whispers, now kneeling right beside you. "i-i'm so sorry oh my god, i got a cramp. here, i'll buy you another one tomorro-" billie interrupts you by grabbing your shoulder. "y/n, slow down" she instructs, noticing your frantic state. "you don't owe me anything, it's okay. i have more, see?" she says, motioning up towards the glass cabinet. you look up, nodding softly, acknowledging the quantity of cups. "it's just one little cup, baby. are you hurt?" she questions, reaching for your arm and begins to scan it over. "i-i don't think so" you say, shaking your head. "here let's get up now, okay?" she says, now holding onto both your elbows, lifting you to your feet gently. with you both now on your feet, she begins to guide you to the couch.

you sit down with a stiff demeanor, crossing your arms over your chest. billie notices your body language, figuring you need a sense of release. "concentrate on my breathing" she places a hand on your back. you closely observe how her chest rises and falls, attempting to mirror. you sink into her touch as your head involuntarily falls onto her shoulder, looking up to her. "there we go, nice and easy" she says, rubbing your back as she sees you starting to relax. your eyes are now struggling to stay open, as her upper half is supporting your weight. the last sensation you feel before drifting off is her lifting up your shirt, feeling her warm fingertips dance along your bare back. as you regain consciousness, you see that you are both in the same position, with billie still rubbing your back. "oh shit" you say, as you shift slightly while lifting your head from her shoulder. "well hello there!" she says, kissing the tip of your nose softly. "i didn't mean to fall asleep" you say, disorientation in your tone. billie's eyes soften at the thought of you feeling guilty. "you needed it, baby. your mind has been working so hard" she reassures, placing her hand softly on your thigh. you instantly feel a warm sensation in your chest at the thought of how gentle she is with you.

your thoughts are then interrupted by the doorbell ringing, indicating your dinner had arrived. "just in time!" billie says, as she quickly shuffles to the door. you giggle at her excitement, and cozy into the couch with a soft smile drawn across your face. how lucky you were to be cared for like this.

@bitchybananaflower

to be added to taglist, comment ⭐︎

#billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie ellish lyrics #billieeilish #billie eilish #billie eilish imagine #diceroll65 writing #hit me hard and soft

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rafes-slut · 2 days ago

Note

Maybe you'll write something smutty related to Morocco? <3

Hope you will like it..xx

Desert Heat

Summary: rafe was forced to be with pouges in morcco and that meant you too. So when he gets chance to pull you aside and take you he does so. While pouges are looking and calling for you.

Warnings: Explicit content, rough sex, semi-public setting, dub-con elements, strong language, tension-filled dynamic, Rafe being possessive and dominant.

----

You should’ve known better than to wander off alone.

The crowded streets of Morocco were suffocating—too hot, too loud, and too packed with people brushing past you on every side. The Pogues were somewhere nearby, their voices echoing through the narrow alleys as they searched for whatever piece of treasure they were after this time. You were supposed to stick with them. But the second you saw him, your feet carried you away before your brain could catch up.

Rafe fucking Cameron.

He was the last person you wanted to see here—especially after the way the two of you left things. The tension between you had been festering for weeks, a sick mix of hate and something far more dangerous. Every time he looked at you, his blue eyes burned right through you. Every time he opened his mouth, it was to get under your skin.

But none of that explained why you felt your pulse race whenever he was near.

You were trying to slip away, blend into the crowd before he noticed—

But he always noticed.

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist out of nowhere, yanking you into the shadows between two buildings. You gasped, but before you could scream, another hand clamped over your mouth.

“Shh.”

His voice was low, rough against your ear.

“Missed me, pretty girl?”

You froze, heart hammering against your ribs as his body pressed up behind you. Heat rolled off him in waves—sticky and suffocating under the blazing Moroccan sun.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You struggled against him, but he only squeezed your waist tighter—his fingers digging into your hips through your thin tank top.

“Cut it out,” you hissed, your voice muffled behind his palm.

Rafe chuckled darkly, finally uncovering your mouth.

“Not my fault you keep running.”

You spun to face him, breath catching at how fucking good he looked. Sweat glistened on his tanned skin, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off the gold chain resting against his collarbone. He looked like sin—like trouble wrapped in expensive linen.

“Let me go, Rafe.”

He smirked, eyes flicking over your face.

“You don’t sound like you mean that.”

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest, heat pooling low in your stomach. You hated him—hated how easily he got to you. Hated how he always seemed to know exactly what you needed before you even admitted it to yourself.

“You’re fucking sick,” you whispered.

Rafe’s smirk only grew.

“Yeah?” He backed you further into the building behind you, the door clicking shut. The room was small—dusty and half-abandoned, with a cracked wooden table standing in the middle. Sunlight filtered through a broken window, casting slanted lines across the floor.

“You’ve been dying for this.” He crowded into you, his chest brushing yours. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching.”

Your breath caught, shame burning under your skin—because he wasn’t wrong.

Rafe always knew how to twist the knife.

“Fuck you.”

His hand shot out, gripping your jaw—forcing you to look up at him.

“That what you want, huh?” he growled, blue eyes darkening.

You should’ve slapped him. You should’ve pushed him away and walked out.

Instead, you leaned into him.

His mouth crashed against yours—hot, messy, desperate. Weeks of tension snapped between you like a live wire. His hands were everywhere—grabbing, pulling, taking. He spun you around, bending you over the table before you could catch your breath.

“Rafe—”

His hand clamped over your mouth again.

“Quiet,” he ordered, voice low and threatening.

The Pogues were still calling your name somewhere outside—your heart racing faster with every echo of their voices.

“This what you wanted, huh?” Rafe’s breath was hot against your ear. His hips pressed hard against your ass, making you whimper into his palm. “Walking around in that little outfit… knew you were looking for trouble.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your body betraying you with every shiver that ran down your spine. His free hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, making you arch back into him without meaning to.

“Such a fucking tease,” he muttered. “Always running that mouth… but I knew you’d let me have you sooner or later.”

He shoved your shorts down just enough to bare you to him, fingers trailing between your legs—teasing, taunting. You bit down on the heel of his hand to muffle the pathetic noise that escaped you.

The voices outside got closer.

“Where the fuck did she go?”

JJ’s voice.

You froze—your breath catching in your throat.

Rafe just grinned against your neck, loving how fucking sick this was.

“Guess you better stay quiet, huh?”

Your heart hammered as he undid his belt with one hand, the leather sliding free with a low snap.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he whispered, pressing a messy kiss behind your ear. “I’ll make it quick.”

He pushed into you without warning—rough and deep—forcing a muffled cry from your throat. His hand stayed clamped over your mouth, holding you down as he fucked you hard against the table. The wood creaked beneath your weight, your fingernails digging into the splintered surface.

The whole time, the Pogues kept calling.

“Y/N!”

You could feel the sick smile against your neck, Rafe’s hips snapping harder every time your name echoed through the narrow streets outside.

“You’re so fucking filthy,” he growled.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes—not from pain, but from how fucking good it felt to finally give in to him. To finally let him ruin you the way you both knew he would.

It didn’t take long. It never did with him.

Rafe came with a low groan, his teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle the sound. You followed seconds later—your whole body shaking under him as pleasure ripped through you.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment—both of you panting, sweat-soaked, and wrecked.

Then he pulled out, fixing his belt like nothing happened.

You scrambled to fix your clothes, heart still racing as he backed toward the door—smirking like the fucking devil.

“Better get out there before they start to worry,” he taunted, slipping out into the street like he hadn’t just fucked you half-senseless.

You stood there trembling—legs still shaking—until the voices finally faded.

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maudie-duan · 3 days ago

Text

Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, they say, but does it really have to be the end if it turns into one of the deepest connections you've made in a while?? Paring: Long Hair Harry x (Fem)Reader Tags: Always Open @sassamanda77

Word Count: 16K

A/N: I've been working on this story on and off for weeks. Didn't like it at first, but I was really craving an LHH fic where he's just really emotional and in his feelings. So there will be lots of angst.

Warnings: Strong Angst/Smut: mentions of Zayn leaving, and the band's hiatus. Implications of fooling around under the influence of alcohol, Size Kink, Talks Of Oral Sex (M/F receiving), Fingering, (M/F) Masturbation, Slight Spit Play (Just barely), Edging, While I don't condone unsafe sex, there is Unprotected Sex, Pull Out Method...on a lighter note there is lots of fluff, Soft Harryx100, Very Emotional.

(If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!)

What was the last thing you remembered? Before the dizzying haze sent the world spinning, a tunnel vision of shadows speeding past you. Maybe there was walking, a stumble, a hand gripping yours, maybe the distant face of a stranger.

What was his name?

And then there were lights? There were so many lights; was the bar really that bright? There was that last shot when the burn of the alcohol was no longer apparent, the sugary finish the only thing washing over your tongue. Kelsey said to take another, so you did; the scene was already blurring around you, and then she said one more, so you did it without hesitation.

After that, there was the bathroom, except Kelsey wouldn’t leave Bryan’s side, so you had to go alone. Yes, this is where the world started fading because you remember using the bathroom and seeing yourself reflected in the dim lighting of the mirror, but what happened next?

“Fuuuuuuck—” is all you can say, squeezing your eyes shut, face planted in the pillow.

When was the last time you felt this hungover, your ears ringing, the roar of a headache this intense, so painful that it hurt to even move your head? A pang so deep in your temples that there’s pain with every thud of your racing heart, feeling the throbbing pulse with every beat pounding through your skull--a steady reminder of the many drinks you felt the need to indulge in, now churning in the pit of your stomach.

And then there was the ache in your jaw as you gritted your teeth together, willing yourself not to throw up because you didn’t know if you could even move another muscle. Had you fallen? Was that it? Fallen and hit your head…

“That bad, huh?” a deep voice sounds in your ear.

At first, you don’t think anything of it; maybe it was a figment of your imagination, the demon on your shoulder from last night whispering in your ear, materializing through the pulsing headache ripping through your brain.

But there it was again, and this time there was a dip in the bed next to you, “I’ll get water?” it says, and maybe you’re still dreaming because every time you move your head, the world still seems to spin, any movement too fast, and there’s that wave of nausea again and that voice—that smooth voice, and is that an accent?

You know you need to lift your face from the pillow, but you’re unsure if you have the strength or the will to stir this feeling any further. That voice is familiar, though, and when the blanket rustles, the feeling of the moving sheet awakens your naked body and alerts you. Wait naked? You think, whipping your head toward the movement on the bed, and when you spot the man sitting next to you, your whole body reacts, a sudden jolt jumping through you, and then you’re falling off the edge of the bed, the sheets coming with you as your body hits the ground with a hard thud, agony already taking way.

“Oh my god—oh my god—!” you yell, clutching at your chest, your heart slamming against your ribs, every breath coming at a rapid pace. If you thought your head was pounding before, this was a new torture.

“I didn’t mean to give you a fright,” He says, and you watch his tall figure crouch next to you, grasping the sheets tight around you as you study his features. It’s like each aspect of his face pulls at your mind like a distant memory.

He hands you the bottle of water and comes down to his butt, a small smile playing at his lips, and the longer you stare, the more you think you remember; at least you know you came here willingly, hence your naked body under these sheets, but was there sex?

He’s quiet, only a smile, and when you bring the bottle to your mouth, he laughs, “You don’t remember a thing, do you?”

And when he laughs again, you watch his dimples dip into his handsome face, and you think to yourself…if you’re going to have a one-night stand, this is definitely someone you would want to go home with…or to a hotel? Because when you force your eyes away from his face, you peer around, eyes moving around the luxury suite.

“Did we have sex?” you ask, eyes shifting back to him, and he licks his lips, drawing his knees to his chest, a casual demeanor taking way.

His face morphs from playful to serious in a matter of seconds, which makes your heart drop, and even though it was more plausible than not, you kind of hope you didn’t because you can’t remember a single detail of being in this hotel room, and as you clinch your jaw the ache travels to your temples, bringing tears to your eyes because this has to be the worst headache of your life—and fuck this guy is so hot.

What do they say? You can’t experience beauty without pain? Then you’re cursing to yourself, thinking the one time you score a decent one-night stand, you would, of course, be too miserable to enjoy it.

“There wasn’t sex in the traditional sense, I guess…” He tells you, cutting through your thoughts.

“Mmmm…” you mumble, eyes sweeping over his face. Then you find yourself smiling because he looks so earnest, and his answer has you searching the tiny treads of memory you can’t seem to conjure no matter how hard you try.

There’s a faint grin tugging at the edge of his mouth, and you can tell he remembers everything, but something tells you that you’ll have to dig for the details.

“Would you mind…maybe elaborating a little?” you push, watching the smile spread on his face. He reaches forward then, stretching past you to the nightstand, the scent of his faded cologne filling your nose, beckoning you as your eyes fall to the inked skin along his ribs, and then it’s like they’re all coming into view, a sleeve running up and down his arm—fuck.

He sits back on his heels, “Here, I tried giving you these last night, but you passed out pretty quickly after…”

“After…?” You try again and look down at his open palm, the ibuprofen resting in the center of his large hand. You grab the pills and toss them back, guzzling the rest of your bottle of water as if your life depended on it.

He laughs again, his deep rasp breaking through, “So if I can remember correctly…” He starts with a grin, his British drawl making your heart skip a beat.

“You said, Gerry…I want you in that bed. Then you led us to the room.” He bursts into laughter then and says, “My name is Harry, by the way.”

You immediately feel the heat creeping up your neck, your face burning with shame--shame for your bold behavior, which few have ever seen. “My apologies, but please continue,” you say.

“Don’t worry, Darling, it was quite humbling. Very few get my name wrong…”

You shake your head, thinking you would probably believe anything he told you if he said it with that smile. The same smile that probably got you to this hotel room, but now you’re having second thoughts about who was calling the shots, thinking maybe you’re the one that spurred last night on—you in one of your rare moods, a toss-up of what kind of drunk you’d be, but at least you weren’t bent over a toilet crying over your Ex, so that was a win already.

“Do you want to shower?” Harry asks, as your eyes travel down his torso, eyeing the tattoos; not a single one is familiar, except maybe the butterfly—Like perhaps you saw it in a dream, and why is he wearing boxers, and you’re completely naked?

“I would love a shower…” You breathe, watching as he springs to his feet, a little too fast for your current state, and he smiles when he catches the dizzying look on your face.

“Man, you’re in rough shape…” He laughs, reaching out a hand, and you clutch the sheet to your body, embarrassed by your lack of clothes, suddenly feeling more modest than you’d hope in this kind of situation—But there’s nothing a hot shower can’t fix, right?

Here is the thing about Harry: He brought you back on a whim. He had no intention of bringing a girl back to his hotel room; in fact, it was never in the cards to even go out. He was here in Vegas with the band, probably even the last time they would play here since there was already talk about their impending hiatus.

Harry was minding his own business, passing you in the hallway on your way out of the bathroom, and when you locked eyes, he watched the smile grow on your face. He thought…fuck…another fan… but when you stopped him in his tracks, there wasn’t a glimmer of recognition.

You planted your hands on his chest, gazing up at him--a bold move on your part—which immediately piqued his interest. Harry was just drunk enough to play into it. Maybe see it through and play along to see what your next move might be. When you pushed him against the wall in the shadowy light of the hallway, he nustled his face into your neck, trying to shield his face from all the random people shuffling in and out of the bathrooms.

And this is where maybe he did spur you on just a little…

The second he drew a breath, breathing in your scent, he felt himself giving in. The warm flesh of your neck was so close to his mouth that he couldn’t help but push a soft kiss—press his lips into your skin and listen for the gasp he knew would fill his ear, your hot breath fanning over his neck, sending a shiver down his spine, and what else could he do?

He felt your hands roaming his body, clutching at his shirt, pulling with such want that one of the buttons on his shirt popped open, making him pull away in laughter, excitement surging through him that felt foreign because when was the last time he just got to let loose like the? Tensions had been so high lately that nothing in him wanted to be here in Vegas, but now he could at least have a little fun, and why not?

Harry hated Vegas; it almost felt worse than New York, a dense population, always a sea of faces, a place he could rarely go unnoticed, and here he was letting some stranger fondle him, and when you asked him what his name was, he laughed again, pulling away with curiosity, he wanted to see your face, he wanted to know if you were playing into some kind of bit, but then you noticed the tattoo at the center of his chest, and the look in your eyes told him otherwise.

You didn’t know who the fuck he was, and this made him even more curious—Yeah, you were drunk, but so was he, and would this be a bad thing? He hadn’t had sex in a while, on a sort of cleanse he held himself to for the last six months, and maybe you guys didn’t have to have sex; there were other things.

But as your hand moved the thin silk of his shirt aside to get a better view, you forced your hand to his chest, pinning him against the wall, his body unmoving as your finger began to trace the outline of one of the butterfly wings. Harry watched as your finger slid down the center of his abdomen, his muscles tightening, forming a straight line to the top of his belly button, sending a rush to his dick.

When you bit down on your lower lip, Harry nearly lost his mind; even then, he wanted to hear your thoughts, wanted you to say them out loud.

There you were, standing before him with very few words, and then you called him Gerry, which somehow sealed the deal for him. He knew nothing about you, whether you came there alone, what your name was. He figured he could ask you in the car, but as you guys pushed your way through the bar, Harry made a point to be your guiding light, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you guys past the flashing lights of the cameras, cursing to himself the moment you guys stepped foot outside the bar—what was supposed to be fun and low-key turned into him moving through a crowd of people, and while Harry didn’t regret his choice, he knew that you would bare the sting of this later.

Do you want to shower first? You ask, taking hold of Harry’s outstretched hand. Your eyes are trained on his face, watching a smirk spread on those heart-shaped lips you knew you were lucky enough to kiss last night…because there must have been kissing, right? You just wished you could remember.

“You want to take separate showers?” He grins, pulling you up from the ground, and just as you stand to your feet, the sheet is ripped from your body, but your reaction is too slow, and when you look down at your feet, Harry’s foot is at the edge of the material.

“Shit, I’m sorry…” He blurts, adverting his eyes while you stand there clutching at your breast, trying to cover yourself in any way that you can. “I have already seen you naked…if that means anything…”

You laugh then, your face burning, “Yeah…but it would be different if I actually remembered…”

“So you really don’t remember a thing?” He questions, covering his eyes.

This makes you smile as a bashful look takes Harry’s features--the kindness to cover his eyes is enduring as he crouches back down to feel around for the sheet on the ground blindly, patting his hand across the floor. He grasps the material and holds it out to you, not daring to peek.

“Thanks…” you say, your smile stretching wider, and you can’t help but laugh as you pull the sheet around your body.

You like Harry’s easy energy; nothing about how he’s presented himself has made you uneasy in the slightest, and when you give him the clear to look, his eyes don’t even wander. They move straight to your face, making your heart pick up a beat.

You can shower first,” he offers, and as soon as he says the words, you feel this draw, this urge, this want to be close.

A want to explore what it is about this guy that’s conjuring this strange sense of wanting to give your all. Was that what it was last night? A sense of safety? You could have done anything…he could have done anything, but something tells you he didn’t take advantage of the situation.

“We could shower together…if you’d like…?” You ask almost as if it were a question, letting it hang in the silence between you. Harry ponders your words, weighty in the way his brows knit together, his eyes surveying your face, his gaze on the verge of making you backtrack.

And then he smiles, and you see that glint in his eye, the look that probably lured you in, and he says:

“A mutual shower, no sex?”

He holds out his hand with a mischievous smirk, turning up the corner of his mouth, and when you grasp his hand, his grip is firm, his green eyes holding you in place, and you wish you remembered what these hands felt like on your body. Did he play into your assertive mood, or was he more gentlemanly? Did this kindness show through the whole time?

You return the smirk, feeling your guard waiver, “Deal--” Then he tugs you toward the bathroom, the sheet falling around your body like a gown, and you wonder if this is what it felt like to be swept off your feet—that giddy feeling of new wonderment filling the air around you both, and when Harry laughs it makes your stomach flutter, like a crush you’ve held secret for years and now you’re finally playing out that fantasy.

Because later, when this was all said and done, this is the part you’ll look back on and wonder why you did it, why it was so easy because this…him…that feeling blooming deep in your belly would become as familiar as looking in the mirror, and although his face felt distant right now you knew it, somewhere deep within.

…

Harry couldn’t believe it worked, getting you here in the shower with him.

He could tell you were nervous.

The way you kept making small jokes to mask your apprehension, your eyes barely meeting his. When you wrapped the sheet around your body tighter and wiggled yourself up onto the counter, he could see you trying to play it cool, and maybe you would have fooled anyone else, but there was something jerky in your movement, stiff, still guarded, everything understandable, but there was just this tiny piece of him that wanted that girl back from last night.

It didn’t have to be sexual. Although that part was pretty amazing, Harry admired your boldness the most. Yes, he knew that alcohol had a lot to contribute to that, but it came from somewhere, right? He wanted to get this part over, you know, get past all the weird stuff because whether or not he wanted to admit it to himself, you guys were complete strangers.

So he stood there, patient, his hands tucked behind his back, leaning against the wall as the silence stretched, both of you waiting for the water to warm up, “Are you from Vegas?” he asked.

He watched you draw in a deep breath, your posture straightening. “I’m from Colorado…you?” and when he gave a faint chuckle, he watched the realization dawn on your face as you let out a nervous laugh.

“England…” Harry laughed, running his hand under the water. It was the perfect temperature, but he knew you weren’t ready.

“Still kind of cold.” He lied.

You shrug, “What are you doing in Vegas?” He asked next.

“I’m supposed to be here with my friend Kelsey. I was actually hanging out with her and her boyfriend last night…damn…I hope she’s not freaking out right now. I can’t remember if I called her.”

“You did--” Harry confirms, followed by a laugh.

Harry catches your eye for a brief second right before they dart to the ground, your cheeks flushing, and he’s still trying to wrap his brain around you and the person you were last night, feeling himself getting sucked in all over again, but differently something more approachable, less fleeting.

“I don’t do this a lot,” you finally tell him--a pang of guilt is eating away at Harry, and his mind is trying to piece together why you felt like you had to explain yourself. Was he making you feel weird, he wondered?

When Harry heard this bit, a sense of relief washed over him; this he could work with, this he knew, “Yeah?” He questions.

“Actually… I’ve never had a one-night stand…I ummm….” He watches you swallow the rest of your words, your eyes searching his face. As you gaze at him, he observes the fear creeping into your features, witnessing it take over.

And when he sees this, he’s quick to speak up, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do…and last night I didn’t do anything that you didn’t ask of me…I only did what you wanted…I swear.”

When your eyes sweep over his face, he feels this need for you to believe him because it’s true, and when you breathe the word “Okay…” You nod, then your face relaxes, and you hop down from the counter and move toward the shower, leaning past him to check the temperature of the water.

When your arm grazes over the soft skin of his stomach, he sucks in a breath, his nerves getting the best of him now, and when you turn your head, your eyes move over his belly, and he stills himself, afraid to move, “Did those hurt?” You ask, and he watches your eyes trail along the band of his boxers.

“They did…” He says, “But it was more of me wanting to cover up another tattoo there, and then these just happened…”

You nod your head again, and he feels himself involuntarily sucking in his stomach, suddenly self-conscious, your neutral gaze unreadable.

Then your eyes flick to his, smoothing your lips together, “I think it’s ready…” you tell him.

“Yeah?” He asks, wanting to make sure this is something you want.

“You’ve already seen me naked…” you laugh, then out of his own bewilderment, that damn sheet drops to your feet, and you step into the hot shower, eyes on his the whole time.

Okay…so he could definitely work with this, and even though he was fighting back his boner, the half-mass that threatened to give him away. He knew he couldn’t help it, and as Harry pulled down his boxers and stepped in behind you, he turned away, not wanting to weird you out.

…

“Do you want some of the water?” You ask, your eyes closed, the hot water hitting the top of your head like heavy rain. The humidity of the shower fills your lungs as you reach and smooth your hair back, and its soothing warmth is all-consuming.

You know that you’re on full display, but you’re having one of those “fake it til you make it” kind of moments, and you figured if he didn’t like what he saw last night, maybe he would have asked you to leave. I mean, he was the one offering the shared shower in the first place.

You thought the longer you kept your eyes closed, the longer you could keep them from roaming. You knew you were hogging the hot water, but something about the heat washing over your scalp felt like a christening of new life, the ibuprofen starting to kick in. You stood there finally at peace, massaging your scalp as a long sigh slipped past your parted lips, causing Harry to clear his throat.

When your eyes flutter open, you blink away the water, the moisture from your eyes blurring your vision. Then, you step away from the downpour, taking care not to look anywhere but at Harry’s face, his focus trained on your eyes, never drifting any lower.

This made you smile, knowing damn well his eyes had plenty of time to survey your body, and a piece of you wanted him to.

There was something about him that made you want him. You wanted him to watch you, maybe make the first move so that you wouldn’t overthink it, and here you guys were, in the midst of a hot shower, your bodies only inches away as you both played polite, and the thought alone was driving you crazy.

That’s when you grab hold of his arms, trying to maneuver around him in the tight space, guide him toward the shower head, watching as the water cascades over his dry hair, and when you let go, your gaze falls to his shoulder, the trickle of water floods down his chest as Harry closes his eyes, and he lets his head fall back, an audible sigh escaping as you watch his lips part, his tongue coming out to lap tiny droplets of water—and fuck you are so turned on, a dull throb pulling between your legs already.

“This feels so good…” he mutters, caught up in the tranquil lull of the water.

Would it be so bad to take a peek? See what Harry would have been working with? Because if you’re honest, your eyes may or may not have flitted over his mounding bulge stretching out the front of his boxers earlier, so why not confirm and put your curiosity to rest?

But here you are with every opportunity—do you do it? His eyes had to have roamed, and as your eyes scan down his body, you watch the toned muscles along his torso tighten and relax as he moves his arms above, running his fingers through his long hair, and there’s those damn…what are they…leaves?

And as you eye them, you can’t imagine what he could have possibly covered up; it doesn’t even look like anything was there…and oh fuck, you think as his thick dick comes into view, the weight of it hanging heavy and hard between his legs and shit. There was no way that was inside you last night because as you sucked in a deep breath, reeling over his size, Harry asked, “Can you pass me the soap,” and for the second time that day, you jumped, slamming your hand over your mouth to muffle the yelp of surprise rising.

When you peel your eyes away from his dick, your eyes meet his, and of course, he’s smiling because your dumbass couldn’t stop gawking.

Now you’re blushing, and when you pivot on your feet, you slightly slip, causing Harry to grasp hold of you--your wet hand slides down the wall and comes to a halt as you push the weight of your body into the palm of your hand and holy fuck, Harry’s hands are on your naked body, and as you right yourself, his hard dick pushes against your ass, and you’re trying everything in your power not to provoke it any further—push into him, nudge the idea into his head.

“You okay, Darling—” Harry questions, and you don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s smiling; you can hear it in the pitch of his voice, the amused tone of someone who just caught you red-handed, but how could you not look, and why are you making this so awkward? There’s no reason to freak out, but like the weirdo you know you can be, you’re doubling down, pushing out the first words that come to mind.

“We didn’t have sex--” you force, over-dramatic, of course, and then you’re repeating it. “We didn’t have sex…we for sure--did not--have sex.”

He laughs, “I know silly…I told you that already…”

“Yeah, I know--” you tell him, your tone getting pushy, the embarrassment of it all catching up to you.

“Okay…” He says, “Is everything okay?”

“I just accidentally looked at your dick…” you blurt, almost as if you’re waiting to be reprimanded. Harry drags his hand from your waist as his hand finds purchase on the wall next to yours. He releases you then, his breathy laugh filling your ear, and he pulls away, tsking his tongue several times in a row, making you smile.

“Why would you taking a peek at my dick be more confirmation than me saying? He pokes.

You shake your head, pushing yourself upright, “You just want me to say it?”

This warrants another laugh, the laugh echoing through the shower, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about…I swear?”

Then your head whips in his direction, catching his cocky grin right before it disappears, “You know why…”

“Come on, Darling, humor me just a little?” he pleads, and now you look again, your eyes sweeping to his hard dick, your gaze making his cock bounce, and you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to suppress your smile.

“I’m just a shy girl…” you joke.

“You weren’t shy last night…” he tells you, with that sexy smile again, and you laugh, your nerves getting the best of you as you try and play it cool.

“It doesn’t count…I don’t remember…” you say.

“Well…I’m just a shy boy… I’m not sure I can repeat your demands out loud…”

You gasp, pushing a hand into his chest, “My demands?” you ask, and Harry grabs hold of your wrist, holding your hand in place.

“Yes, Darling, you were very demanding last night…”

“Stop…I might go run and hide.” You threaten him, feeling shy, but there’s something calming about his energy. You like his playfulness and find yourself wanting to play into it.

“Like go hide back under the blankets?” He offers, poking you in the belly, and then your eyes drop to his finger moving away, your boobs coming into view, a reminder that your casually standing here naked with a dude you just met, and it’s starting to shock you how easy this feels.

“If I get back in that bed… I’m going back to sleep…” You tell Harry, firm, no room for negotiations.

“Can there be cuddling?” Harry suggests, taking a step toward you as you ponder his offer.

You laugh, a nervous flutter growing in your stomach, “So you want me to stay?” You whisper, your back hitting the wall. You were so focused on Harry’s gaze that you didn’t even notice the steps he had taken toward you, caught up in the idea of sharing a bed again.

Now, there was proof that your body acted on its own accord around this man, that you could be inching backward and have no conscious thought of it until you were staring up at him, watching him plant a hand next to your head, walling you in.

And now you’re holding your breath, contemplating his next move, his inquisitive gaze sweeping over your face—what is he thinking?

Then Harry reaches forward and tucks a wet strand of hair behind your ear. Moments later, his finger drags along your jawline as you exhale that weighted breath—His close proximity dizzyingly affecting you as you fold your hands behind your back and flatten against the hard-tiled surface—Your mind is desperate to find something real, something to root you in place.

It’s like suddenly you’ve been here a million times with this guy, this stranger that’s growing strangely familiar by the second, and as you glimpse the smile spreading on his beautiful face, your eyes drop to his mouth just as his tongue comes out to smooth over his bottom lip, and he rubs them together, drawing you in even further.

And as if there were an invisible string tugging at your core, you push your hips from the wall, an urge pulling between your legs as his thumb traces a faint line across your lips, and he presses his body to yours, your lips parting the second his thumb moves away.

“Would you like to stay longer?” He whispers, his tone like honey dripping down your spine, and there you go again, arching your hips into his. Then his hand comes up to your waist, softly gripping the skin at your side, driving your hips back until your hands are flat against the wall again, Harry’s hard dick pushing against your thigh, and your willing yourself to stay perfectly still. You stand there compliant, relishing the feeling of his hand moving to your hip.

Your throat is tight with every word you want to say, and as you nod, you swallow down hard, trying to force the lump down, “Yes…” you push, your voice barely above a whisper, and he’s smiling again, his lips corking into a playful grin, and you’re dying for him to kiss you because he could kiss you right now.

Those lips could be pressed to yours in a matter of seconds because his face is so close, so close that you, yourself, could close the gap, but you’re too scared, and when you watch his gaze flick to your lips, again, you rub them together, preparing for that kiss, because he’s definitely going to kiss you, his head is moving, he’s closing the gap, and as your eyes flit closed, you hold your breath waiting, waiting…and then his lips, press into your cheek, delicately lingering until his raspy laugh fills the crook of your neck as Harry moves his mouth to the shell of your ear, “Maybe later…”

Then you grab hold of his hips, pulling them into yours, your arms wrapping around his neck, and then you’re hugging him, and you don’t know why you’re doing it. Still, it’s like this primal urge of wanting to be close to him, to feel his body next to yours, this safety that seems to emanate from every fiber of his being. You want him close, to feel that closeness with Harry, because you can’t remember the last time you felt this safe, this open vulnerability.

It’s like it’s overtaking you, and when Harry’s arms wrap around your body, his grip tightens, and he returns the gesture—Everything about it feels real.

It’s like this surreal calm takes over your body, and suddenly you’re crying, a few tears drifting because this feels so good, this hug, and you think you wouldn’t need anything else, that this is perfect, and he’s not letting go. Then he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, his body trembling in yours, his weight slightly shifting. That’s when you realize he’s crying, huffing a hot sob into your neck, and you hold him--You hold him tight because maybe he might just need this more than you.

…

Harry didn’t think he would cry, but there he was, crying into the neck of a total stranger, not even second-guessing himself because once he heard your soft sniffle brush past his ear, he knew he was a goner.

Harry felt his edges crack them crumble into a sob like the weight of days, months, the years were coming down on him--All the days that had vanished slipping past him, and while Harry had the world at his fingertips, there had been a hollow opening up, one big question mark, marking his life with no plan for his future because

Harry knew that things with the band couldn’t last forever, that the shelf life of a boy band was short. It wasn’t just the band; they were all getting tired, especially Zayn, who was already on his way out the door. Harry could feel it, see it there in his features, Zayn

withering away right before their eyes.

Another collective weight, the foundation of their legacy, splitting beneath their feet.

So when you stumbled into his world, he wasn’t necessarily looking for you, but here you were, wrapped in his arms, both of you tucked beneath the blankets as Harry listened to your slow breaths, your body growing heavy as you drifted off to sleep, feeling a world of safety crashing into him.

At first, he told himself he would wait until you fell asleep and then sneak out of the bedroom, hang out in the living space, watch a movie, or write in his journal. But the second he opened his eyes, you were still in his arms, your face inches away from his. He watched as you stirred awake, your eyes lazily flitting open, a slow smile waking on your face.

“So it wasn’t a dream…” you whispered, making his heart flutter, and without thought, his lips moved to your forehead, and Pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

As the kiss lingered, he breathed you in, thinking how was it that you both used the same soap, but somehow you smelled more inviting, the soap taking on a whole new aroma, one he wanted to savor, and when he pulled away, you brought your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb back and forth. Then, your hand drifted to the nape of his neck.

And as you drew in a breath, you pulled his face to your mouth, your lips moving to his temple, and ever so gently, he felt your lips meld to the tiny hairs along his hairline, whispering the words, “I’m so hungry…” and when you laugh, a puff of warm air ghosts over his ear, sending a slow hum down his spine.

This is the feeling he had been longing for. That feeling of ease, of comfort.

It had been months since he had three consecutive days off in a row; it had been even longer since he had felt this building notion, this anticipation of feelings—the beginning of a crush—those silly flutters in the depth of your belly every time you look at them, and you were merely a stranger. There could be nothing else from here. He didn’t even know if you knew who he was.

“Let’s order room service…” he whispered, trying to keep his voice even as he bit back tears. Your eyes wandered over his face. He wondered if he had asked what you were thinking if you would tell him, and then he did, his heart starting to pick up.

“What are you thinking?” he forces the words tight in his throat.

And to his surprise, you don’t even hesitate, “That for some reason you look familiar, but I swear I can’t figure out why…like maybe it’s just my brain recalling your face from last night…”

Then Harry is holding his breath, watching, waiting for you to figure it out, and when you say, “I don’t think I could forget a face like this—” he lets out a quiet breath, pressing your hand into his cheek.

Just then, a rapid tap drums from the other room, and Harry lifts his head, his eyes flicking to the open door of the ensuite. “I think someone’s knocking,” he hears you say through the onset of panic.

His heart races, and he tries to remember if they had anything planned as a band, but today and tomorrow were free days. Why the hell would anyone be bothering him?

The knocking stops, but then the sound of clicking fills the silence of the room, and just as Harry is piecing together what’s happening, the hotel door opens; a soft glow from the hotel hallway bleeds into the main room, and Harry springs to his feet as a man calls out his name.

“Shit—be right back…” he told you, fidgeting with his boxers, now sitting low on his hips, “It’s just Paul… probably checking in—”

And when Harry catches the worry streaking your features, he bends down and kisses you on the cheek, “Don’t worry, love, it’s just a friend…” Then he watches your brows knit together, mulling over this bit as Paul calls Harry’s name again, his voice drawing closer to the bedroom.

…

Lights began to beam through the dark doorway as you watched Harry step out, closing the door behind him just as you caught sight of a man leaning down to click on a lamp next to the sofa just beyond the door.

You lay there for a beat, wondering if you should feel fear, but the feeling never stirs, then your thinking why did Harry need all this space, and what does he do for a living to afford such a luxury hotel room.

As soon as Harry closed the door, the room was swallowed in darkness, and you bound off the bed to search for the curtains, opening a small section until you realized that the sun was setting, the twilight of the evening just settling over the bright lights of Vegas and holy shit, what a view.

You had to have money to get this kind of view, so you opened the curtains wide, sinking into the comfy chair next to the window, crossing your legs underneath you, mesmerized by the hustle and bustle far below, the room so high that you could barely see the people moving around, or maybe your eyesight was shit, either way, it was the perfect view.

Bored, you turned on lights, trying to breathe life into the room.

When Harry took longer than you expected, you shut yourself in the bathroom, taking this moment to spruce up. As you gazed at yourself in the mirror, your eyes darted to the oversized t-shirt Harry let you borrow.

Your eyes scanned over the faces, filling five boxes, the last box spelling out “1D,” and you laughed, thinking, what the hell is this? The faces of these little boys stretched across the shirt, blue, pink, and purple, repeating the pattern, and at the very bottom of the shirt, it read, ‘Up All Night Tour 2012,” which was two years ago. Harry seemed too old to be repping this; how old was Harry anyway?

The more you look at the shirt, the more you want to make jokes, like, of course, it says ‘Up All Night’ They looked just on the cusp of no longer having a set bedtime, and with any boy band, you find yourself surveying their attractiveness, your eyes only lingering on the dark-haired boy with the earrings who probably grew up to be really hot, with those dark eyes and dark lashes—the others weren’t your vibe, but then you felt weird thinking that, like how old were they anyway.

Then it dawned on you that they were the reason you were here, that Kelsey arranged this whole trip to Vegas around this concert, the only way she wanted to bring in her 21st birthday, at the iHeart Music Festival.

That’s when you made a mental note to ask him about this band, see if it was worth it, see if your friend was crazy for dragging you guys here because you could barely afford it as it was, and when she brought her stupid boyfriend, it ruined the whole trip…maybe hooking up with Harry will be the only highlight of the trip after all.

Eventually, you returned to bed after searching for your phone. You found it under the bed, but it was dead. Now you had to wait for Harry and Jeez. What was taking so long?

When the door finally opens, Harry is running a hand down his belly, a sweet grin, peeking at the corner of his mouth, “I’m starving…” He drawls his British accent heavier when the words are lazy.

“I think food is the last step to curing this hangover.” You tell him, sitting up on the bed.

“Sorry that took so long…we were going over plans for the next couple of days.”

“Gotcha…” you nod, “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s whatever…” He pushes, shrugging his shoulders as he puffs out a breath of frustration.

“I think for like the first time in a while, I just need a vacation…” He continues.

“Vacations are nice…” you agree.

“Do you get to at least enjoy Vegas while you’re here? Did your friend want to go out? I could always ditch. I don’t want to impede on any of your plans—”

He laughs, “I’m technically not old enough to hit the town just yet. It wouldn’t be a good look…”

“Wait, what? Weren’t you out last night?”

“Well yes…but that was 18 plus…”

“Are you telling me you’re 18?” you blurt, surprised because you thought you guys were at least the same age.

“Darling, I’m 20… don’t worry… you’re not robbing any cradles trust me…” and you watch as a faint blush creeps into his cheeks, and when he runs a hand through his long hair, he scrunches his nose, making you laugh because shit, this dude is hot, like probably the hottest guy you’ve ever scored as far as hook up’s go.

“What?” He asks, eyes searching your face. You push yourself off the bed, coming to stand in front of him, feeling a sudden urge of confidence, and when you bring your hands up to cup his face, you ask:

“May I kiss you?” and he lets out a nervous laugh, grabs your face in his hands, and matches your stance.

“May I kiss you…” he jokes, and you drop your hands, wanting him to take the lead.

“Yes…” and just as he’s leaning in, you say, “But let the record show…I did ask you first.”

His breathy laugh fans over your lips as he presses his mouth to yours. Your smile slowly fades as your lips begin to move together. When Harry deepens the kiss, you release a chaste breath. Your lips part, and you swipe the tip of your tongue over his top lip. Then Harry groans, and the vibration hums across your lips.

Your hands come up to his waist, gliding up his torso until they wrap around his neck, your hands threading through the curls at the nape of his neck. You couldn’t believe you were kissing him. It was like everything that you had imagined in the shower, except his touch was a lot more gentle, his pace slow, meaningful in the way his thumb caressed your cheek back and forth, kissing you the way you’ve always dreamed of being kissed, like cue the night sky and all the stars above you and this would be absolutely perfect, but fuck the stars if you had this mouth kissing yours.

Because what were the stars if you had his hand gripping the back of your neck, holding you in place, anchoring you there, because suddenly it feels like you’re floating, this kiss dizzying you, a heady sense of giddiness coursing through your entire body and all you can think is this…this is what I want right now.

And you’re acting on it, greedy for it, a soft moan slipping past your lips, and you want this, you want this right now, and Harry seems to be picking up your cues, and as your breath picks up, so does the kiss, and it’s breath after breath, this urge growing, and as you begin to move the kiss, taking a slow step back, Harry breaks away.

“Mmmm…” He breathes, swiping a thumb over his bottom lip, a grin spreading across his mouth, and there’s that urge again, and you take a step forward, your mouths crashing together.

Then you’re picking up on that same rhythm, and then you’re pulling him toward the bed, you’re mouths move with hunger--desperation in each step that you take backward, Harry moving with you until the backs of your legs bump the bed, and your pulling at his waist, needy for him to crawl into this bed with you, and then he laughs, halting your hands, and you open your eyes just as he’s pulling away from the kiss, his eyes trained on you.

“What?” You ask, “Is this not okay?”

His hands smooth down your forearms and grasp your hands, “If this is what you want…I hate to say it…but I really need food…” He suggests, dropping one of your hands to pat his hungry belly.

“Food?” you repeat, almost dazed because you literally almost had him in this bed.

“Yes, love, I need fuel to take you on again…” he rasps out with a laugh.

“Again…?” you ask, licking your lips, the taste of his mouth still on yours keeping you in the moment.

“Yes… you’re a feisty one…” Harry tells you, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Mmhmmm….” is all you can say when you feel his lips press into your neck, revving you back up, and you squeeze his hand hard, gasping out a breath of desperation as you tug his hand toward the ache between your legs.

Harry releases a weighted breath as he pulls away, his eyes locking with yours. You pressed his hand to the fabric of your panties and unclenched your tight hold on his hand. When you bite your lower lip, you watch the contemplation crease between his brows.

Then ever so slightly, he drags his fingers over the warm center of your underwear, your mouth rounding into an ‘O’ as the pressure of his touch deepens over your clit, and he begins to draw a small circle with his fingers, and you whimper a low, “Mmmm…” just as his hand draws away slowly, a small smile playing at his lips, and your hips move in the direction of his hand, not wanting the touch to end.

Then you’re on the tips of your toes, pressing your lips to his again, and this time his hands are on your hips, forcing them back until you’re seated on the bed, and he breaks away from the kiss, pushing his weight into his hands, planting your ass to the bed, “Food first. Then this…” He reiterates, this time a little more firmly, and all you can do is smile, him nodding his head until you’re following along.

“Fine—” you puff out, sexually frustrated, to say the least. You laugh as you fall back onto the bed, ready to pout about it, as you swing your legs back and forth over the side of the bed, suddenly feeling a fit rising, and you exhale a loud dramatic sigh bubbling up from within, and when your eyes sweep to Harry. He’s standing there with a huge grin, stretching from ear to ear, and you cover your face, embarrassed maybe, but more overwhelmed by what this dude was doing to you, your resolve crumbling with every passing hour.

“See…I told you…feisty…” He chuckles out, running a hand through his hair.

…

Harry knew he was in for it the second his fingers slid over the soft cotton of your underwear as he watched you unfurrow, your jaw going slack, mouth curving into the perfect shape. He knew exactly what those perfect lips felt like wrapped around his cock, and had you put up more of a fight; he would have given in, fallen mercilessly into the greed that was overtaking him.

And when you fell back onto the bed, his fingers twitched at his sides, a whole vision of him falling to his knees to pry those delicious thighs open. The only thing between his mouth and your pussy was the weightless material of your panties. All he would have to do was slide them to the side, bring his mouth to your warm center, and taste you. Drag his tongue up your slit till he was spreading you open, the salty-sweet slick of your pussy coating his tastebuds because you were already wet, the fabric damp under his touch—you needed him like he needed you—and now as you both sat there taking your last bites of food, the T.V. droning on in the background, he was smitten.

“Okay—that’s fair, but what’s like the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you? You asked Harry, a broad smile stretched across your face as both of you enjoyed each other’s company, and he couldn’t believe how much fun he was having just sitting there talking to you.

Harry had to think this question through; he knew what he wanted to say, but how could he tell you without giving his identity away or not spurr on more questions to lead you there because Harry had decided back in the bedroom what this would have to ultimately be—a hook up—that’s all it could be because once you figured out who he was, it would scare you away.

How could something like this work when it’s so clear that you both lead two very different lives?

“Ummm…I guess…one time I fell in front of a room full of people…I mean, like a massive fall, a ridiculously stupid fall, and not only did I fall in front of all these people, but my family and friends were there too….and I just laid there for a second, not wanting to get back up.”

You laughed and asked, “Was it like a presentation or something?” and Harry studied your face, readying himself for the lie.

“Yeah, back at Uni, it was pretty silly, really…I had a nasty bruise down my hip later, but that didn’t hurt half as much as my ego.” He laughed out, stuffing his last bite into his mouth.

He liked the way that last line made you laugh as you took a drink of your water, your eyes darting to his mouth, lingering, making his dick tingle, and he wished he could hear your thoughts out loud, and then you surprise him:

“What are you thinking?”

Harry is thinking a lot of things, and he knows that if he tells you the truth, it will shift the mood, switch gears from light and easy to possibly where you guys had left off in the bedroom.

He could feel the tension floating at the surface of every thought—feel it in the way your gaze lingered, the way your lips smoothed together every time he licked his lips or ran a hand through his hair. The way he felt himself flirting, witty with a purpose just to make you smile, laugh that cute laugh of yours—you taking any excuse to touch his arm, his hand, he liked you loose like this, a girlish playfulness that sent a flutter to his stomach, his dick anxious to please you.

But that was the problem. Harry didn’t know if he could do it. He had gone so long without sex already, and he wasn’t prepared.

There wasn’t a single condom in the room, and yes, you guys could fool around like last night, but he knew he would want more. Ever since you touched his face in that shower, held him while tears streamed down his face, he wanted to bury himself deep inside you, make you feel the way you made him feel—warm, safe, secure in his touch, your bodies pressed together in a haven that only you two could build because couldn’t this last longer?

Did it have to end at this? All of it was so confusing, these feelings circling inside him.

“What am I thinking?” He finds himself repeating, trying to stay in the moment.

“Yeah…” You answer, your tone soft and inviting.

“I’m thinking that I’m really glad you’re here…and that this has been the best time I’ve had in a really long time.” And when Harry says it. He knows it wasn’t what he planned on saying, but the words tumble out of his mouth with intention.

Harry wanted you to feel precisely what he was feeling right now, and that was fulfillment because even if you didn’t move any further than this, this would be just enough, you being here, the presence that you’re bringing to his life in this very moment—this joy—Harry hasn’t felt this kind of happiness in so long that all he wants to do is bask in it, savor every second.

…

There it was again. That soul-deep kindness that’s been chipping away at your guarded facade all day, casting away doubt from the moment you opened your eyes this morning.

Who was this person, this man sitting next to you on this couch?

Where had someone like him been when all the other failed before him--his presence alone was the biggest mindfuck you have had in a long time because what the fuck are you doing here? Where was this going? It was starting to feel like more than a hook up; the time you both were putting in said otherwise.

Technically, you guys had already hooked up, even if you didn’t remember, he did, so you both had already gotten what you wanted, so your staying longer was a choice on both of your parts, and here you knew nothing about him, but feeling a draw so intense that you can’t even put a finger on the feeling, it’s like your soul already knew him—already knows him—his eyes as familiar as looking in the mirror, but what was the catch? How was this going to end? Could this be more?

“Harry, should I go?” You ask him, needing to know where he stands in all of this; hear the words that he wants you to stay.

He’s in the middle of gulping down his water, and as soon as he hears the question, he chokes the water down with a cough, eyes darting to you, and you wait for his cough to settle.

Harry takes a beat, taking you in, his eyes sweeping over your face, “Do you want to leave?” he finally says, making your heart pick up a few paces.

“I just want to make sure I’m not overstaying my welcome…” you answer, studying his face.

He shakes his head. “Am I making you feel that way?” Harry scoots closer to you on the couch, your body shifting toward his, and places both hands on the tops of your thighs, bringing his eyes level with yours.

There’s a plea rising in his features, a worry furrowing his brow as his hair falls into his face, and you reach to sweep the tuff of hair behind his ear, “No—I just feel like—”

“I don’t know…” And you can’t even look at him, his gaze too much, that look sucking you in, making you weak for this man—you want to fulfill every silent want that he has, every want that’s filling the air because you can feel it, the breath heavy in your lungs. You want him just as much as he wants you because you’re aching with it, pleading from the depth of your belly for it—an unspoken want so desperate it hurts.

“I want you to stay…” he whispers, cupping your cheek in his hand. The warmth seeps into your skin, and you close your eyes, wanting to savor the feeling.

Then there are tears, and you don’t know why you’re crying, but when the pad of his thumb swipes over your cheek, you grab hold of his wrist, your eyes shuddering open. His face is blurry until the tears spill over, and he’s wiping them away, “I’m scared…” you choke, barely able to get the words out.

“I’m scared too…” He manages, as his face begins to break, then you spring forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and when he falls back into the pillows of the couch, you crawl into his lap as he draws you into his body, Harry holding you tighter than he’s had this whole time.

“I think I really like you…” He murmurs, pushing the words into your neck, and you feel your whole body heat with the thought; your feelings mutual, but all you can muster is a “Yeah?”

And as you relax into his lap, Harry’s grip loosens enough for him to rub a slow hand up and down your back, your body going slack, and your head nestles into his shoulder as the tears continue to fall, and you close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling of the rhythmic stroke of his hand.

It’s not until he scoots his hips forward on the cushion that you stir from your trance, his arms a fortress from whatever was plaguing you before, and you shift your hips until you’re realigned with his body, your hand absentmindedly twirling a lock of his hair around your finger.

You listen as Harry draws in a slow breath through his nose, one of his hands traveling lower, moving over the curve of your hip, skimming under the back of your thigh, and he grabs your flesh, pulling you further into him, your center now pressed against the mound of his boxers as your legs spread just enough to make it known, your body waking, the path his hand took now alive with his touch.

Without thinking, you press a delicate kiss to the skin of his neck, your lips slightly sticking to the damp aftermath of your hot breath, which came and went as your emotions slowed. Harry’s shoulder slick with your tears. When you lift your head, your hair is glued to the side of your face, and you brush it back, forcing it behind your ear.

The blush of his lips is the first thing you see, more predominate in the trace of his tears now glistening on his flushed cheeks, and when your eyes meet his, a tear spills over, and your throat seizes with the sight. You have no idea why he’s crying, but somehow you feel the pain of it settling in your bones, the pain fitting to your flesh as if it was your pain to carry.

Will a kiss make it better, make it all go away?

Because the way he’s looking at you with those green eyes, so green, islands in a sea of pain, the whites of his eyes red, giving it all away. You reach for the hem of your shirt, bringing it up to his nose, and wipe it clean, making Harry laugh. It’s a start, and when he grabs hold of the shirt, he silently nudges his chin upward, a quick nod, signaling for you to take it off, and he helps you lift it over your head, your bare breasts coming into view, and you’re straightening your spine ready for him to take you in.

His head falls back against the cushion of the couch, his body slumping as the tears continue to come, like the sight of you is too much to bear, a pained look as he bites his lip, and everything in you wants to ask, just ask, that’s all, but it doesn’t feel like the right time, like whatever Harry feels he needs to release, let it go, so he can move on from it.

He scoots himself further down on the cushion, his ass nearly toward the edge, and you shift your weight into your knee, pushing into the sofa, your outstretched hand coming down next to his head.

The sudden jolt of your arm falling into the pillow makes your boobs bounce up, only inches from Harry’s face, and the two of you lock eyes as you adjust yourself in his lap, a chill running down your spine when his warm breath fans over your skin, bringing awareness to your hard nipples—the unspoken need for him rising as the air grows thick around you, all your focus closing in on Harry.

His long legs become the perfect chair, enough space between you and the tenting bulge forming in his briefs, and he drags a hand down his torso, dipping into the band to readjust the growing boner that has your mouth watering because there’s no way that dick hasn’t already filled your mouth, that your jaw hasn’t stretched around it, tried to fit as much of him into your mouth as you could, was that it?

Was that the pain in your jaw this morning? So stiff you could barely open it.

Did he fuck into your mouth until he came, shot his warm load down your throat? Did you both go to sleep satisfied because now you’re thinking the only way you could leave this hotel satisfied is if that dick had been deep inside you, a memory for later when all else fails when you have to say goodbye because you’ll have to say goodbye, right?

The head of his long penis peeks out of the top of his boxers, and the material settles over his girth, and all you can do is stare, his fingers grazing up and down the fabric as he comes to full mass, the movements slow and steady like a sunset opening up to the night, taunting you, knowing that darkness brings all the things you hide in the light, and these are the things you want to give him, the things you want to share.

…

It’s an unspoken want, but this is what Harry needs, he thinks while he watches your body lengthen, your posture righting itself as you cup both of your breasts in your hands, your gaze moving from his dick to his face, your mouth smoothing together, stirring a hunger in him when you pinch the tips of your nipples with your fingertips, arousing yourself, and your rock hard nipples even further.

And what a fucking sight to see, the pleasure it brings when you clamp down on the tips, just hard enough to release that soft gasp slipping past your parted lips, and he wants more. He wants to see it all, and when Harry reaches for your wrist, he pulls your hand between your thighs--he wants to see you touch yourself--he wants to see you plead for more than just your fingers.

The gesture is silent; no words needed because your fingers are already moving, a palm pressed into his knee as he watches you steady yourself, the other hand moving over the center of your panties, a slow, gradual pace as your hips jut forward.

He sees your need growing as you find your rhythm, your gaze focused on him, right where he wants it, making him even more turned on as he watches the slow circles, your legs widening when you press a foot to the ground, rising slightly, your body secure.

That’s when you slip your hand into your underwear, the need more pressing, your breath picking up, and when you roll your hips into your touch, your head falls back as you unleash a gentle moan, your eyes flitting shut, ready to get lost in it.

Harry decides to join in on the fun, stroke his hard throbbing cock, while he takes you in--The idea of him being inside you was only a fantasy at this point, but maybe he could make it real.

Harry knew he couldn’t be as graceful as you. What started as slow and delicate for you was already sloppy and pressing for him. He couldn’t help the groan rippling from his throat as he cast it with a slowing stroke, forcing himself to stay in rhythm with you as your eyes fell to his, then his hand, and you both shared a smile, and he locked his knees together to give you more stability, your weight sinking into your hips as you slowed down.

“Tell me what we did last night?” you asked with a smile, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he forced his dick completely out of his boxers, his cock resting in his hand.

That’s when Harry felt the power shifting in his favor, “Take your panties off…I want to see…” He tells you, glimpsing the smile widening on your face as you come to standing, and when you swing your leg over his, he spots the wet center of your undies, and he has to let go of his dick, or else he might come.

“Fuuuuck…” He breathes, “Those are mine now,” He forces as his gaze follows the motion of you stepping out of your underwear.

He loves the playful smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you swipe them from the ground and toss them on his chest.

“Here…” he tells you, patting the space beside him.

You laugh then, Harry’s chest tightening in anticipation, but you comply, gracefully taking your seat next to him. What was bold before slips into a timid smile, your eyes darting to your hands clasped together in your lap, and this is what Harry was waiting for: the vulnerability you were giving so freely.

…

Was this it, you thought? Was this going to be the moment you’ve been waiting for?

The undressing was easy. You had already done that part; this part was new, and the rest was still a mystery, every event from last night.

Harry places a hand on your thigh, and you grab hold of it, nervous, too nervous to look at him, suddenly scared because suddenly sex with him was a real possibility, not just a passing thought that had flitted in and out of your mind all day.

When he leans in and whispers, “You okay?” his rasp catches in the shell of your ear, and you nod, shooting him a quick glance, and he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, chills running down your arms.

“Lay back,” he asks, your eyes on his face as his eyes flick to the arm of the couch. You turn and look, pausing to take in the empty space beside you and picture yourself lying there.

When you turn back to Harry, he’s watching you, his eyes glancing over your face, and he sits back, lifting his hips to push down his boxers. When he leans forward to push them past his knees, he kisses your lips, soft and brief, and when he pulls away, you crawl toward the end of the couch, doing as you’re told, a giddy sense of pride swelling in your chest, that you guys have made it this far.

Once your head is resting against the armrest, you bring your knees up, pressing your feet flat to the cushion, your knees slamming together when you catch sight of Harry rising, his face serious, unreadable, sending a pulse between your legs, and my god, you want him so bad, you want him to shove that fucking dick so deep inside you that you’re yelling his name at the top of your lungs, so loud that your voice fills every vacant space in this room.

“This may come as a surprise,” he starts, his penis in his hand again as he stands before you, “But I don’t have any condoms…” and he laughs, your eyes trained solely on his hand, now gliding down his hard dick, his words barely registering.

You tear your eyes from his moving hand just in time to catch the cocky smirk rising on his face, “Good thing we didn’t have sex last night. I’m not on birth control anymore…”

“‘Mmmmm…” he hums, watching you lick your lips, and you swallow hard, your mind in overdrive, already contemplating what you would say if he asked to fuck without one, and when your eyes sweep down his body, you think, fuck it, let’s risk it all!

This thought makes you laugh, “Yeah…” you say, meeting his eye again, “So… that’s bad, right…?” you ask, your clit throbbing, and you bite down on your lower lip, praying he’ll make the decision for you both.

“I think…?” He answers with a curious smile, the words coming out more of a question, and you squeeze your thighs together, trying to find relief from the pressing thought of you guys fucking, raw, and nasty; no holding back because that’s what it would be if he stuck that warm, supple dick inside you…and your almost begging that those are his next words, the tension building between your legs, your gaze, and Jesus Christ, just say yes or fucking no you plead internally.

Your legs fall open at the sight of him continuing to stroke himself, your fingers already rubbing slow circles, enough to satiate the ache, and then Harry smiles, that fucking smile, so cute, and so sweet, his dimples dipping, “Sit!” you force out through a wave of pleasure—a single word humming through your body enough to take you to the edge and you have to stop touching yourself or else you’ll come right then and there and it’s too soon.

Harry doesn’t even question you. He drops into the cushions, one of the decorative pillows in his way, and he thrusts his hips forward, his dick still in his hand, and when he falls back into the couch, his hard cock stands tall, ready for you, and he scoots his hips back down the cushion, opening up space for you to climb on top.

“So we’re doing this?” he asks, and he definitely thinks sex is about to happen. There’s not a single trace of question on his face as his hand glides down, hitting the base of his dick, and damn it, he wouldn’t even care if you shoved him inside you right now, and should you just do it, just fuck him now, and worry later because this is the first time in your life that you would, that you’ve ever wanted to.

Without a word, you climb into his lap, leaving a space between you and his moving hand. When Harry drops his penis to reach for your face, it hits your inner thigh with a thud, heavy and hard, and maybe in another lifetime, you would ask him to smack that fucking hard dick across your lips, tap your cheeks, feel the thickness down your throat, and maybe he already has, you’ll never know, but there’s no time because you have to find relief.

Harry’s kiss is sloppy, his mouth moving against yours with force, with hunger, his tongue coming out to wet your lips, and you follow up by shoving your tongue into his mouth, greedy to taste him.

When your tongues clash, Harry pushes a groan into your mouth. The tremble runs over your tongue, sparking a cooling chill down your spine that sends a quiver to your clit, “God dammit!” you yell into the air with a laugh, and your head falls back, your eyes fluttering shut as Harry, presses a wet kiss to your neck.

“I want it…I want you,” Harry pleas, his woody voice filling your neck, and you’ll do it, you really will, but that little voice in the back of your head is telling you that you’ll regret it.

“I just want to feel you for a second,” he gravels, forcing you back in his lap, creating enough distance for you to take hold of his dick, now hot in your hand, and it’s so fucking tempting, the thrill filling your chest, the thought swirling something deep in your gut, and your fucking pussy beats with it.

Your mouth is already watering, and you work a glob of spit against the roof of your mouth, thick, and you spit down onto his cock, Harry laughing out a breathy, “Shit, baby—” as you both watch it drip over his pulsing head, the saliva working down his sensitive cock.

You spit again for good measure, working it down his dick. When you bring your hand back up to the head of his penis, Harry sucks in a sharp breath, stopping your hand the second you smooth over the tip; a smile stretches across both of your faces, a knowing stare—your whole world as you know it, right now, in this very second is getting lost in those green eyes peering back at you, and you’re captivated, his eyes moving to your lips and you draw yourself forward in his lap.

With his dick in your hand, you lift your hips, pressing a hand into his knee, finding stability as you press the head of his penis between the lips of your pussy, your wetness dragging down his shaft until you hit the base of his cock, a moan leaving your mouth as you push against his dick with more pressure, your hand starting to work the tip.

“You’re teasing me…” he breathes, letting his head fall into the pillow, and he closes his eyes, his lips parting, a slight twitching in his hips, and he hooks both arms over the back of the couch, letting you take control.

His dick is warm against your pussy, your slickness marking a glossy streak down his thick dick, and you follow the wet path back up to the tip, rolling your hips once you reach the top, giving the head of his cock a little more attention, and when you press him into your cunt, needing more pressure, his tip dips past your entrance, a quick stretch as his dick snags on your opening. You both groan out in unison, Harry’s head whipping up to meet your eyes, a throaty laugh feeling his chest, and his dick pulses against your clit.

Your strokes get more aggressive, up and down, stroking down with your hand in tandem with your movements, his dick getting more and more wet and sloppy as you tease your entrance again. Then, Harry grabs hold of your thighs, his fingers digging into flesh as he bucks his hips up, and you yell out a pained “Ahhh…fuck…” as your hand wraps around his dick, pulling it away, and your body shudders, the overwhelming sensation edging you.

Harry drags your hips forward as you move through the wave. Your head falls to his shoulder as warmth rises from his body, your hot breath filling the space between you, and you close the gap by pressing a kiss to his inked skin. “We can if you want to…” This time, his words hang between your stare as you bring your face up to his.

“Harry…”

“I know…” He coos, his soft lips hitting the lobe of your ear, and his breath splays over your neck, sending a hum down your spine, between your legs, and he grips you tighter.

His arms wrap around the small of your waist, bringing you flush to him, his hard dick pushed to his belly, now tall between you.

He’s so fucking ready for you, but you like the way he begs.

The heat of him pressed between your thighs is making you crazy, your clit swelling for it, and you want it so bad. “Just for a second,” he begs, his voice straining as you begin to move against him, each movement short and precise.

You circle your arms around his neck, feeling the tension build, the urge for him growing deeper, tugging at you from within, every spot you know he could hit, whispering from inside you, begging, pleading. You press your forehead to his, each breath growing shorter and faster as you work against him, trying to fulfill that pressing need for him as he stares back at you, waiting for you to say anything.

“Just for a second…?” you force out, your fucking pussy aching, the friction on the verge of pain and pleasure as he pulls you down harder, forcing your cunt against him, and you can barely move your hips, Harry strangling your movements, making you desperate for relief.

“Just for a second…” he whispers with more control, and he lifts his chin to push a kiss to your mouth while your hips are fighting for more.

“Just—a second…” you say into his mouth, already pushing a knee into the couch, and lift your hips, breaking Harry’s hold.

He grabs hold of his dick, both of you gazing down as he guides his dick to your opening, and you spread yourself, making it easier, your hand shaking as adrenaline surges between you both.

Harry nudges the tip in, your pussy opening for him as you grab hold of his neck, and you slowly sink with a loud, “Mmmmm….” pushing past his ear, filling the space, but all you hear is, “Oh, fuck, baby… that’s so good…” as your walls stretch around him, the pain sharp, and foreign, but as his dick pushes past the spots that need him, that were calling out for more, there’s pleasure—pure fucking pleasure.

And just as you hit the hilt of his dick, your breath hitches, the entire expanse of him now inside you, and you tense up as your mouth moves against his. Harry slows you both down, and you gasp into his mouth as soon as your hips ease to a standstill.

The sudden pause magnifies the intensity of the stretch--his length stretching past anything you’ve ever felt before, his girth widening you beyond any measures you’ve ever experienced because they were nearly warm-ups, lead-ups to this very moment because it is so fucking good, so good, and then your hips are moving, Harry scraping out a sharp groan into your mouth as you continue to kiss.

Each time you lift and lower back down, the walls clenching around his dick loosen.

His dick is wet with your juices, nice and slick, the fit better with every movement, and it sends a flutter of excitement to the pit of your stomach, “So good—” you breathe out, “That dick is so good…,” and Harry laughs, grabbing hold of your face, not wanting to break the kiss.

He’s more romantic than you pictured.

He’s gentle and lets you move at your own pace. When you swivel your hips on the way back down, he nips your lower lip, bringing you with him as he falls back into the cushions. “Play nice…” he laughs as you guys hit the pillows with a soft thud.

“I don’t want to play nice…” you tell him, taking his bottom lip into your mouth, and you gently tug, grabbing hold of the back of the couch.

That’s when you slam down on his dick hard, releasing his lip. His eyes roll back as his body relaxes into the couch, his hands twitching on your hips, then sinking into your skin to grab hold of you, and he lifts his hips, drawing you forward, then back. The first time it’s slow, but he does it again with more force, and you cry out a moan, his cock deep in the pit of your stomach, and you squeeze the firm surface under your palm to ground you.

“Tell me how good it is…” he pushes out, between a moan, “More—” you shout, and he juts you up with a raise of his hips, and you yell out his name, letting your head fall back as the force runs through you.

Your entire body heats with the growing pressure, and when you look back at him, he’s securing his hands on your waist, bucking into you again, and as soon as you hit the base of his dick, he does it again, and again, until your bouncing up and down, losing your grip on the couch—losing control, each thrust up a welcoming embrace, tipping you closer to your threshold, and it’s hot, and heavy, your hands slipping on his chest as you try to steady yourself.

“Oh my god—”

“You’re going to—” you choke out.

“Say it!” he says as you fall into his chest, your resolve etching away, and his grip tightens; Harry gaining more control, his pace consistent, his strokes shortening, deeper, as he holds you in place.

Your gaze is trained on his chest, your hand smoothing over the butterfly--transformative that’s what this will be because you’ve never gotten this close, this fast, without the extra work of your hand, and it’s a completely different feeling, a feeling you have to let go and let happen, every breath in and out, pulls deep in your belly.

“Come—I think—” you blurt, your mind becoming a jumbled mess, every sense entirely overwhelmed, and when he smiles at you, the knot building tightens, and you feel your walls beginning to clamp around his dick, like a fist, as Harry slows his thrusts.

“I’m going to come—I’m coming—I’m coming,” you stretch out with a long moan.

And It’s that quick, the feeling sneaking up, and just as you’re coming undone, he yanks his dick from inside you with enough force that you collapse onto his chest, leaving you hollow, a sliver of emptying space closing as your walls continue to pulse, and you rub your pussy against his lower abdomen, riding out your orgasm, with that last bit of friction.

…

Harry hadn’t intended sex, but here you guys were in the aftermath, his hand wrapped around the head of his dick, cum spilling out into his hand as you rode out your orgasm, his body the object of your desire, and he fucking loved it. He wanted this feeling with you for as long as you allowed him.

“That was—” you huffed out, trying to catch your breath as every harsh puff pushed into Harry’s neck, and he was taken—the start of obsession creeping in because that was--amazing.

“Amazing—” he laughed between a quick inhale, finishing your sentence.

He felt your lips press into his skin, chills running through his whole body, every touch electric, heightened by the energy you guys shared, a connection he hadn’t felt in so long that he forgot what it felt like to actually let go—to get so caught up in the moment that nothing else mattered—and yes, using the risky “pull out method” isn’t the best decision but maybe you guys could cross that bridge later. He didn’t want to think about it; he wasn’t ready for the reality that it would bring, the reality that you would be leaving.

“Stay another night…I promise I’ll make it worth your while…” he told you.

That’s when you laughed, a breathy sigh leaving your mouth. Content, your gaze was starry-eyed, beaming up at him. Your body was totally relaxed against his. “As long as there are pancakes…”

Harry couldn’t decipher his feelings, what this was turning into for him, the way he was catching feelings.

When was the last time he had stayed up all night just talking about anything and everything with someone? He wanted to run his fingers through your brain like you ran your fingers through his hair, everything light, a delicate touch, a mindless gesture, comfortable and charismatic, your walls completely down.

What made you tick? Was it something he could figure out in one night, or would he spend months dwelling on the what-ifs because he felt hopeless for you, desperate for the idea of trying to make this work?

All night had been a fever dream, a kiss, a stare, a laugh; you filled every inch of this space—of his being. When he was inside you because, yes, he was inside you again, you took it slow, no rush, your bodies melding together in a slow rhythm, your mouths moving easy, light, a carefree laugh, a hand intertwined, a giddy clinginess that neither one of you could shake, and when the morning sun sliced through the edges of the curtains Harry was the first to wake.

He lay there as still as he could, not daring to stir you as his gaze lingered on your face, memorizing the details, your head resting on his chest. Your breaths were slow and rhythmic, in and out of your nose, a faint warmth beating down on his skin, almost humming him back to sleep.

He knew this would be all the time that he had left with you, so Harry savored the seconds, meditating on the thoughts that circled his mind—dwelling on the questions that tugged and ground deep in his gut, the longing to be something else, knowing Harry could never lead a normal life, that love could never be this simple because, after all, you didn’t even know who Harry was, what he did for a living—how in hindsight you were still strangers.

How he was barely his own person anymore, and how could he ask you to share when this was all he could give? Hell, you’ve had him more than anyone else lately, more time than he’s had by himself.

Harry knew that when you woke, there would be no pancakes because he had a gnawing feeling that you wouldn’t want to stick around, that maybe you were the type that just ripped the bandaid off, and he was right.

As soon as you opened your eyes, goodbye had stolen the night and cast light to the inevitable—the end—and as your eyes lingered on his face, your lazy gaze taking him in, still half asleep, the corner of your mouth dropped just enough for Harry to peep the frown you were fighting, the still sadness in your eyes, that didn’t want to leave his.

Then your eyes dropped to his chest, your arm still draped over his torso. You lifted your head and pressed the softest, most delicate kiss into his flesh, your lips pushing into his skin, lingering, and when your mouth moved away, he watched you press your cheek into the warm spot you left behind, closing your eyes to savor the fleeting moment.

Because that’s what this all was, one fleeting moment after the other, and when you rest your chin on his chest, eyes meeting his, the knot burning his throat tightens.

All of his words are lost. Harry biting them back, pressing down on his lip that he’s trying to keep from quivering because you’ve just become the longest goodbye he’s ever had to make, and the grief of it is already taking him.

“I don’t think I’ll have time for pancakes,” you tell him, only furthering the pain building in his chest.

His heart sinks as the words leave your mouth, and you don’t even look at him, your voice still thick with sleep, and you clear your throat, Harry watching the effort it takes to swallow, and he knows you feel it too, the weight of the goodbye.

One more time…

He just needs you one last time.

…

When Harry gently nudges you onto your back, you know what he wants, and so do you; your body moving with his movements as your eyes fill with tears. When Harry hums out a small sob, hovering over you, his face falls to your neck, and you reach between your bodies, feeling for the hard mass resting against your thigh.

You know what this is; you know this is goodbye.

What you didn’t tell Harry was that you knew, that you had figured it out, who he was—after you showered and slipped back into his t-shirt.

The two of you stood in front of the mirror brushing your teeth, all laughs, flirty gestures. You stood there thinking this has never been so easy. You felt something wild stirring, the thought creeping into your head with the glimpse of his smile, and you thought maybe love, like maybe you could fall in love with a guy like him, like you could make it work.

When Harry turned away to reset the bathroom, you stood there brushing your teeth, and you honed in on your reflection, thinking you hadn’t looked this happy in so long, so long that it overwhelmed you, and you stood there, your heart already longing.

Already mourning this girl you got to be with him, trying to hold it together, trying to hold onto all your pieces because you wanted to give them all away, tell him how you felt, and maybe he would say the same.

There wouldn’t have to be an ending, at least not now.

That smile, that kindness could be yours, those lips, those hands could have you any time he wanted.

You were so caught up in this idea, and as your eyes lazily flit over yourself in the mirror. You half-heartedly glanced over the five faces reflected back at you, your eyes taking them in again, remembering you were going to ask Harry about the shirt.

As you silently studied their faces. You found yourself focusing in on the boy with the playful smile, the boyish grin stretched across his face, familiar, his dimples giving him away and how had you not noticed before?

Then terror took way.

It was like lightning striking your body, the realization like an earthquake ripping down your spine as your mind fought to keep up. The feeling was almost dizzying as your eyes flicked to Harry, now standing next to you, your toothbrush stopped mid-brush.

You knew you couldn’t react.

That’s when you had to make the decision, and you knew in that split second that if you said a word, it would change everything. A sacrifice because this is what you wanted, this guy standing before you, just like this, how you’ve had him all night.

So you bury it deep, a tunnel of grief already splitting inside you because it’s in those flashing moments you know he could never be yours, so you let him go and force the idea from your brain, letting him be exactly who he was, and will be until the time comes to say goodbye, because what he’s given has been so much bigger--bigger than all the fleeting moments--and even if it hurts, and it will hurt later, maybe it’s a gift you thought, and you ran with it.

So now, as he pushed inside you, the pain is sharp, and your body tenses, and you gasp in a breath and let it take way because there was already pain the moment you opened your eyes, the longing that never left your body.

And as your mouths move together, the tears begin to fall from his closed eyes, your heart aching with it, and you close your eyes, getting lost in it, falling until there’s nothing else but this.

It’s pain and pleasure all over again, and when he groans, you spread yourself wider, giving yourself completely as tears spill down the sides of your face, goodbye at the edge of each breath that pulls in and out of your mouths.

Then it’s a whimper, a moan, a ragged hand dragging down his back as his strokes deepen, your nails digging as he rasps out a grunt of satisfaction.

Deeper and deeper, he pushes like he’s trying to merge your bodies together as one. The weight of him forcing against you until you don’t know where your skin begins and his ends--each stroke persistent and measured, like Harry is savoring the feel of you, memorizing it for later, your name falling off his tongue as if he’ll forget and maybe he will, but you don’t want to think of it.

And it’s right there.

The look in his eyes, the words he’s holding back, but you’re close, and so is he, and the tears haven’t left, and you nod your head, Harry following suit—a shared sense of recognition.

Harry lets you go first, and seconds later, he’s pulling out, and like every time before, leaving an empty void, but the satisfaction is in the pleasure you’re bringing him.

Something tells you that very few get him like this, and this notion, this waking realization, is what you’ll walk away with.

When your back is pressed against the door frame, readying yourself to leave, his arm perched above your head, and it’s all smiles, him putting your number in his phone.

Maybe he’ll call, or maybe he won’t; it doesn’t matter because what he gave you was the gift of a lifetime—the gift that will keep giving every time you glimpse a picture of him in a magazine or a song comes on the radio years from now, you’ll know it, you’ll know the moments he sings of, the tiny details hidden in his words.

He sends you off with a parting kiss, your mouth moving until he pulls away, and you wrap your arms around his neck, your bodies coming together in one last deep embrace, and you both get lost in it, not sure who will pull away first.

That’s when a voice sounds behind you, Harry’s face lifting to see who it is. When he loosens his grip, you turn your head to see the dark-eyed boy with the pierced ears, and you look at Harry and push away, forcing yourself to leave.

The dark-eyed guy moves aside and gives you space. You move past him, walking a few paces down the hall, the elevator in view. You stop then, looking down at the shirt, pulling it away from your body to glimpse the faces, and when you turn back around, Harry is leaning against the door frame, hands pinned behind his back.

That boyish grin is in full swing, “You finally figured it out, huh?” he laughs. You turn away and shake your head, a smile never leaving your face, and as the elevator door opens, you walk in and push the button for the lobby. Harry is still watching, and when the doors begin to close, you lean forward to stop them and yell:

“I figured it out last night—”

He brings his hands to his face, fainting embarrassed, and maybe he is. You can’t tell from this far away, but his smile never falters, and you take that as a good sign, “When?” he shouts back.

You step back into the elevator and shrug your shoulders, a cunning smile taking over as you shake your head. Harry pushes away from the doorway and starts walking toward you. The doors begin to close, and that’s when Harry starts to run. His tall figure becomes a sliver as the doors seal shut, Harry disappears, and you look down at your feet and wonder what the hell you just got yourself into.

A/N: This baby was long, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think of it here<-

Masterlist<-

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coquitokisses · 3 days ago

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Oh, baby! | Dean Winchester

Pairings: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Summary: reader had a one night stand with Dean and they find out she’s pregnant

Word count: 1.4k

A/n: I gotta be honest, this is from a fanfic lmao, which is supposed to be a crossover of Teen Wolf and Supernatural, but I haven’t published it yet and I’ve been wanting to write something about Dean for a whileee so I decided to just edit this lil thing I had and post it here cuz why not?

“Hey, Cas, you’re back.” You smile sweetly at him once you saw him as you made your way to the library to help Sam with research

“Hi, y/n.” He replied with a small smile that soon turned into a confused frown

You noticed. “Everything okay?”

“How do you feel?” He asks

“I’m fine.” You replied, not understanding his sudden worry

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Cas, why? What’s wrong?” You questioned feeling a little alarmed by the way he was asking

“It’s just that I feel another presence.” He said

“Another presence?” Sam took his eyes off the laptop to look at Castiel

“What do you mean another presence?” Dean’s voice was soon heard throughout the library

“Is it bad?” You ask

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “It’s inside you.”

“Inside me?!” You were so confused right now “But what is it? Is it bad?”

“Is she okay?” Sam asked somewhat worried after hearing Castiel’s words

“She’s fine,” he replied and then looked at you “Can I?” he raised his hand

You nodded giving him permission to do whatever he had to do. Castiel put a hand on your forehead and then began to lower it down your body, but without actually touching it, until it reached your belly.

“Can I?” he looked at you, you just nodded

He placed his hand on your belly and that’s when he realized what was the presence he was feeling.

“It’s a baby,” he said, removing his hand

You almost choked. “I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

“A.. baby?” Sam was dumbfounded

“Wait, wait, are you sure?” Dean looked at Castiel

“Very sure,” the angel nodded

“It can’t be...” you put one of you hands on you chest. “Oh my God..”

“Are you really sure?” Dean asked again

“Yes, Dean, I am one hundred percent sure that I feel a baby’s presence.” Castiel snapped back

“This isn’t happening.” Dean ran his hands over his face “This is.. this is simply not happening.”

“Please don’t tell me you guys…” Sam looked at you both

“Sam, just shut up for a minute, okay?” Dean replied

“I- I need to get some air.” You muttered as you walked backwards like three steps and then turned around heading to the stairs

“Y/n wait!” Sam called out but you ignored him

You got out of the bunker and you took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down and not have a panic attack.

“This can’t be real..” you murmured to yourself

You raised your hands to your belly and you’re just standing there in shock.

Of course you wanted a family, but you knew that it was probably not going to happen due to the fact that you’re a hunter and you’ve been hunting basically your whole life. You knew how your life was gonna end. And you made your peace with that. Kinda.

Worst thing about all of this is the fact that Dean is the one who got you pregnant. You two used to hate each other, but throughout the years, you’ve learned to tolerate each other and well, you’ve basically been working with them since they had to deal with the angels pretty much.

He’s always had a crush on you and you knew it, but it wasn’t really that serious. He usually just flirted with you and most of the time you just ignored him.

Until a few weeks ago, while you guys were finishing up a case that Sam decided to let you two handle so you could work on your communication and your anger issues, because the week before that, you have to admit that you were both butting heads every five minutes, and it was driving Sam insane. So he sent you both to deal with a vampire case in Wyoming and with a little assignment to work on your issues and stop behaving like kids. His words.

And you did worked your issues out. You just didn’t think it was gonna be by having sex, but hey, you weren’t complaining at all. He was perfect. And it was the best night you’ve ever had in a while.

And here are the results of that hook up.

It’s clear to say that neither of you are prepared, mentally nor physically prepared to have a kid.

And besides, how were you gonna raise a kid together if you can’t even get along for more than two days?

You got on your car and decided to go for a ride, just to clear your head. And while you were at it, you bought like two boxes of pregnancy tests just to be one thousand percent sure and because you would believe it more once you see it yourself.

You got something to eat after that and decided to use the bathroom at a gas station so you could take the pregnancy tests.

While you waited on the results, you were walking around in the small bathroom, thinking what the hell you were gonna do.

After a few minutes of talking to yourself internally, you decided to take a look at the four pregnancy tests.

“Oh god..” you muttered under your breath seeing the plus sign on the tests

(…)

After a while of just driving around, you finally decided to get back to the bunker. Once you open the door, Dean’s head turned to look at you immediately.

“Where were you?” He asked, leaving the book he was reading on the table

“I was getting rid of the little creature,” you replied

“Y/n.” Dean gave your a stern look

“I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes. “I went for a ride and to get something to eat, anything else you want to know?”

You walked to where he was and put your hand inside the pocket of your jacket.

“In case you thought Castiel was lying...” you took the pregnancy tests out of your jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “It’s quite real.”

Dean looked at the tests in front of him realizing that this was really happening. He did believe Cas, but seeing the positive pregnancy tests, definitely made his mind finally fall into the acceptance that this was real. Very real.

Dean sighed. “Look, I know you’re not completely happy with this situation, believe me, I’m not either, but..-

“But we already did it and now we have to take responsibility, I know,” you said taking off your jacket “What I’m still trying to figure out is how you and I are going to raise a baby”

“I don’t know either.” He sighed

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” you pulled out a chair so you could sit and then you brought your hands to you face

“I know...” Dean said in a soft voice and leaned a little so he could look at you. “Hey,” he gently took you by the wrists, removing your hands from your face. “You’re not going to be alone, I’m not going for a pack of cigarettes and never come back.”

That made you laugh a little. “I know you won’t.”

“I’m just.. scared.” He admitted “Scared to raise a kid, scared that I might turn out like my dad and I don’t want that..”

“You’re not going to be like your father, Dean.” You said softly “And I’m scared too, like, I’m gonna be carrying a baby inside of me for the next nine months, I’m terrified that I won’t be a good mom.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You smiled a little. “That’s kinda comforting.”

“I think we can make it work if we make the effort.”

“We hate each other.” You roll your eyes

He scoffs. “Speak for yourself, I don’t hate you, sweetheart, like, at all.”

You chuckle. “Don’t lie to yourself, you only wanted to get in my pants.” You joked

“Well yeah, but I don’t hate you.” He shrugged

“I don’t hate you either, you’re just.. very annoying.” You said

“You are too.”

You roll your eyes. “Right.”

“In all seriousness,” he started saying “I think we should give it a try.” He looked into your eyes “And you know, we would also be getting out of this life and finally getting a normal one.”

“That does sound nice.” You nodded

“It’s up to you, babe.” He said

You could see in his eyes that he was dead serious about this. He wanted this. He wanted to give it a try with you.

And after a few seconds of thinking, you finally responded.

“Let’s do it then.” You said and he smiled “But we’re not getting married.”

“I’m fine with that.” He said with a shrug which made you smile

main masterlist

A/n: I think I can make this into a small series, should I? 👀

Likes, comments and reblogs will be appreciated! <3

divider creds @hyuneskkami

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #jensen ackles #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #fluff #sam winchester #castiel

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megs-1800 · 1 day ago

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No Strings Attached

Summary: Friends with benefits is always difficult especially when one of you catch feelings. Will Mason have the same feelings or will you lose him forever?

Pairings: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Angst, Fluff and Smut

“T-that was i-incredible” Mason pants as he rolls off me and flops himself on the bed next to me trying to catch his breathe. “Our sex always is incredible” I say rolling onto my stomach crashing my arm onto his chest whilst he tickles up and down it. I look into Mason’s eyes which I can see the spotlight from the ceiling are making them sparkle. Fuck he is so gorgeous. Mason sits up and looks at the time “I probably should make a move, I got training early tomorrow morning”. I give him puppy eyes hoping he would stay but I knew what I signed up for. Mason and I met a year ago, my best friend Paige is dating Ben Chilwell, she introduced me to Mason at a party of theirs. At the time I was happily engaged but the bastard ended up cheating on me, well turns out he was cheating all along. Me and Mason got drunk and ended up sleeping together, but from there we kind of just stayed a type of friends with benefits, he was there for me when I needed and vice versa. ‘No strings attached’ we said. “When am I next seeing you?” I ask and Mason gives me a smirk as he looks me up and down. “I will call you yeah”. I wink at him knowing he always calls.

I didn’t hear from Mason for the next couple of days but that’s not out of the ordinary, we go days not talking then we can go days with non-stop talking. I could say he is on the border of being one of my best friends, if I being honest he knows me better then I know myself sometimes, but I feel like we could never be proper friends due to our activities together. I throw myself on the sofa after a awfully long week, I turn on the TV and see that United are playing, it’s a Saturday early game so not much else to watch and thought it would be nice to show Mason some support. That’s why Mason hasn’t been talkative he has been putting his all into preparing for the game I thought. However 38 minutes into the game I watch how the opposition player tackles Mason and takes him completely down, I watch how he is screaming and rolling around in pain. I can see the pain in his eyes, I know he is more annoyed at being taken off rather than the pain of the tackle, he has worked so hard to get back and already being subbed must kill him. I quickly text him knowing that when he is free he will respond:

Y/N: How you feeling? x

I couple of hours passed and I hear my phone buzz and looking down and seeing Mason has replied:

M: Like shit how do you think I am feeling

Y/N: sorry silly question x

I feel bad for him but I didn’t know what else to say, I am taken back by his bluntness but I know he is hurting right now, I know deep down he doesn’t mean it. Another hour passed and my phone buzzes again:

M: Sorry y/n/n its just so frustrating you know I worked so hard for what, to play 38 minutes its just shit. The press has already slaughtered me, I just feel like shit but I don’t mean to take it out on you xx

Y/N: Don’t listen to the stupid press they just want a story. You are amazing Mase, injuries happen that’s the joys of being a footballer but don’t let them get you down. You know I am always your number one fan. I will whip you back into fitness in no time ;) xx

M: I can always count on you to make me laugh. Chilly said you are out with Paige tonight but I don’t suppose you can come here beforehand please? You can get ready here, I just hate being alone right now xxx

Y/N: I am already on my way superstar xxx

I quickly pack all of things that I would need for the night and then make my way to Masons. Everytime I go there it leaves me speechless, it definitely puts my one bedroom flat to shame. Mason opens the door, I can see he is wearing a pair of shorts and has he left ankle wrapped and is limping to the sofa. “Can I do anything?” I ask assessing his wounds. “you can do a lot of things” he raises his eyebrows and smirks seductively, he quickly continues “I am joking, you can get me a jumper please I just cannot bring myself to tackle the stairs yet”. I nod and quickly run upstairs and grab my favourite hoodie of his. I run back down the stairs and give it to him, he looks at me and smiles “how did I know you were going to get me this one” he laughs “am I that predictable?”. I make me and Mason a cup of tea and come join him on the sofa. He puts his arm up so I can turn my body into his chest, he has his ankle rest up in front of him. He continues to stoke my hair and we sit there in silence for what feels like forever. I go to look at the time, “jheez I gotta start getting ready” I start to move which Mason holds me tighter. “5 more minutes you have no idea how easy you take away the pain”. I smile into his chest, I love that I have that impact on him.

I look at myself in the mirror as I make one more curl in my hair, I am wearing a short black dress with laced sleeves and I matched it with a pair of black heels. I carefully make my way downstairs, I watch as Mason’s eyes look up from his phone and his eyes follow up and down, as I do a little playful swirl “you look insane” Mason states and I can feel myself blush. As I walk over to get my bag I heard my phone ding, I walk over to check it and my face drops “whats up?” Mason looks at me concerned. I take my heels off and flop myself on the sofa next to Mason “well that’s Paige cancelling last minute- again!” I groan. Mason looks at me sympathetically “has she cancelled on you a lot?” I nod to his question “yeah since she got with Chilly she has all her WAG friends now so I am kind of second best. I still love her but I guess she has more important places to be” I say defeated feeling sorry for myself.

Mason smiles “well we can party here?” I look at him and laugh “what with you that has one leg and is on strong painkillers so cannot drink? Great party!” I joke back. Mason clutches his chest where his heart is like I hurt his feelings “ouch!” I jab him in arm “thank you for making me feel better. Well I guess one good thing is I could go and put a tracksuit on and stuff my face now” I start to make my way upstairs when I hear him shout “You can wear that new tracksuit of mine that you like, I will order your favourite”.

I am laughing away with Mason, I am wearing his new Gucci oversized tracksuit, its massive on him so it drowns me but I am so comfortable. “I have never known someone who looks as beautiful all dressed down as they do all dressed up. You are going to make someone a real lucky guy one day”. I can feel myself blush at Mason’s words, he always knew how to pull on the heart strings. “Why you being so cute Mount? You wanna get into my knickers or something?” I heard him laugh and then lean in close to me “Maybeee?” I snigger at his comment “well you are in no state to ‘rock my world’ tonight Mase” he learns back and raises his eyebrows at me “Maybe but I bet even with my injured ankle I am still the best sex you ever had”. I laugh, I love how he has such a big ego.

Another hour passes, “its getting late I best get going” Mason gives me pleading eyes “please stay y/n. I need help to get up the stairs please” I nod “okay I will help you up the stairs and into bed then I am leaving”. Mason gives me a slow nod in response but I can tell there is something deeper in his eyes. I help him hobble up the stairs as I allow him to put the pressure onto me, I am struggling under his weight but I am determined to get him there. We eventually make it to his bedroom and I help him walk over to the bed. “I still cannot get over this room, this room is the size of my whole flat”. Mason shrugs his shoulders “perks of being a footballer I suppose”. He starts to get underdressed and I quickly shield my eyes “right I need to be going. Thanks for tonight Mase”. Mason pats the spot next to him in bed “why do you hide away its not like you haven’t seen it all before, but come join me” I hesitate for a minute but I know he will win. “There is a pair of my boxers and tshirts in the drawer you can wear for now” I thanked him and put them all.

His glaze doesn’t leave mine as he watches me get into his clothes “I have never known someone to look so fit in a pair of mens boxers you know” I am taking that compliment. I throw the covers back and join him in bed “I never get over how big and comfy this bed is” I stretch out as I show gratitude to the bed. Mason leans in and tickles up and down my sides which gives me goosebumps, he then extends his hands strokes the sides of my face “you are so beautiful never let anyone tell you different” I lean in closer to Mason so our lips are brushing against eachother “you are full of compliments tonight Mount”.

With that our lips come crashing together, our tongues fighting for dominance which I eventually allow Mason control, I always end up giving into him. I can feel Mason grinding his hips into mine and the blunge between us becoming apparent, Mason moves him lips to my neck and I cannot stop the moans that come out. I reach down to take him in my hands and I feel Mason stop my hands, I look at him confused. “I am not going to last long I need to be inside you” I nod knowing exactly what he means, I am in no mood for foreplay I need to feel that dick stretch me out. He removes his pants and climbs on top of me and puts legs so they wrap around his waist he slides the boxers I am wearing to the side and slowly lines himself up with me. “F-fuck” he moans into my neck “I love feeling that pussy stretch out for me” Mason starts a slow pace then it hits me “Mase your ankle lets swap” I offer. Mason shakes his head and continues his pace, I can hear him getting harder and faster and I know that he is close and he is edging me closer too. I can then feel his pace slow down and then I see him wince “swap” I demand and Mason gives him and flops down next to me “sorry I want to ruin you right now, bloody fucking ankle”. I kiss him to shut him up as I climb on top of him, I usually hate being on top as I am insecure about my body but Mason makes me feel so comfortable, I have no objections. I line him up with my entrance and slowly lower myself down, we grown in unity as I start to bounce up and down on his dick. He removes the tshirt I am wearing and starts playing with my tits, I can feel his fingers grazing over my nipple as he is inching me closer to my orgasm. “uh right there M-Mase r-right t-there” I moan as I come undone all over his dick, with that I feel Mason’s dick twitch inside me as he moans my name into my neck.

I flop off him as we both catch our breathe “see injured and I am still the best sex you ever had” which he winks at me. “Who said that you was the best sex I have ever had?” I tease as we both know he was the best guy I have slept with, “I think from the way you just screamed my name as you cum all over my dick had something to do with it”. I quickly get up and get cleaned up and bring Mason in some tissue as I know he is going to struggle to get out of bed. I go to get dressed as Mason stops me “what are you doing?” I look at him confused “I am getting dressed what does it look like I am doing?”

Mason shakes his head “stay with me tonight”

“Isn’t that breaking one of our rules ‘no sleepovers’ remember you were there when we set them”

“Yes and now I am saying lets break this one just for tonight. Please it will be nice not to be on my own. You know in case I need the toilet or something” I know there is more to that but I am not going to argue.

“Okay just this once” I reply as I throw back on the tshift I was wearing earlier and climb back into bed with him. Mason grins like the Cheshire cat as he pulls his arm out so I can lay on his chest. The small sound of his heart beating sends me to sleep.

A wake up as I see the sun drifting in through the blinds, I see Mason hobbling out the bathroom “Hey you are not supposed to be walking without support” I scold him.

“Well if I waited for sleeping beauty to wake up I would of exploded I have a bladder of a child” he giggles as he hobbles back to the bed and throws himself next to me. “Whats your plans for today?” he asks

“Not much I am helping one of the girls I work with move this afternoon, so probably have to leave soon” Mason pouts at that statement, “what about you Mount?”

Mason looks down like he doesn’t want to tell me the next part “Rebecca is coming down to spend time with me today”

I look at him confused as I bring his chin up to me so our eyes meet “whos Rebecca?”

Mason looks back down again as he didn’t wants to meet my gaze “she is a girl I have been seeing?” I jump out of bed at this comment.

“What the fuck are you talking about Mason? We just had sex and now you wanna tell me you are seeing someone. What the fuck Mason!!!” I am now screaming and throwing my hands around. I am starting to get dressed as I am shouting.

“We said no strings attached Y/N”

“I know that Mason! I don’t mean it like that, I mean that you have cheated on that poor girl with me. You have made me the other women that’s disgusting Mason! You know I have been cheated on why would you do that to me!” Mason gestures for me to sit at the end of the bed so I do, hoping he will let me calm down.

“We are not exclusive, we have only been on a couple of dates. We haven’t even slept together yet. I know its wrong Y/N you just do these things to me, you make me feel so much better and I know I do the same for you. I am sorry we can stop now if it will make you feel better.” I give him a look so he knows I am not impressed but I know nothing is going to change what happened so no point dwelling on it, so I nod in agreement.

“No more sex but still friends yeah” I lean to him and put out my pinkie finger. He wraps his pinkie around and places a kiss to it. “the best of friends” he replies.

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

A year has passed since that morning and Mason and I have kept our word and haven’t slept together. We are still close and talk near enough everyday but we are just keeping it to friendly flirting and not taking it any further than that. I miss that closeness though, I feel like I haven’t been able to feel that closeness with anyone else. Even with my partner James its different, we have been dating for nearly a year, I met him shortly after Mason and I’s ‘no more sex’ pact, Mason is still dating that Rebecca, it seems to be going well. I am happy with James, he is successful and passionate and loving and everything I should want in a man, but I don’t know I feel like something is missing. Maybe that’s just me being silly, always looking for a ‘but’ in a relationship. Maybe this will be my happy ever after, after all.

“Pleaseeeeee come out tonight y/n/n! It won’t be the same without you” Paige begs on the phone.

“I don’t know Paige. It’s a very A list party I am not sure I would fit in babes”

“Oh come on Y/n you said that James is working so what else are you going to be doing on New Years Eve. I hate the thought of you sitting at home on your own pleaseeee. You know us and Mason is going to be there.” The thought of Mason there does heal the anxiety of going a little bit.

“Okay Paige I agree I will think about it okay”

“That’s all I am asking babes. Love ya”.

I am still not sure if I want to go or not, I am constantly fighting with my head. Paige is hosting a New Years party at Ben Chilwell’s but my anxiety is going through the roof of the thought of going to the party with all these famous people and I am just little old me. I just got home from work when I get a text message:

M: Please tell me you are going to Chilly’s NYE Party! Paige said you haven’t got back to her yet. Please I need to see drunk y/n, I haven’t seen her in a long time. She is a laugh, give the people want they want!!! Drunk y/n drunk y/n! xx

I giggle at his message and quickly hit reply.

Y/N: I don’t know, my anxiety isn’t great Mase there is going to be a lot of people there and I will literally know Chilly, Paige and you. But at the same time work has been mad recently so would be nice to let my hair down. Aww I don’t know Mase xxx

M: Pleaseeeee do it for me xx

Y/N: Okay you have persuaded me. You are my weakness Mount. I will see you there xx

It takes me days to decide what to wear for New Years Eye, I don’t want to be too dressed up as its only a house party but I don’t want to show up not making an effort. Its got to NYE, I finished work early so I got time to get ready but I still have no idea what to wear. I have finished my hair and makeup but just no outfit.

M: What time are you getting there for? I am staying the night so I can come and get you on the way if you want? X

Y/N: Thanks that would be great. I will be ready for whatever time you want me ready for xx

M: Ready for 7? X

Y/N: Perfect! Well it would be if I knew what to wear x

M: You look amazing in anything! Wear that white thing with the trousers and the fluffy bits I like that one x

Y/N: Thank you but I have put some weight on since I last worn that so I don’t know x

M: Well try it on and see I bet you will still look amazing ;) x

I quickly find the outfit he is talking about and snap a photo of me in it. I really don’t know about it but I send it to Mason and see what he says.

M: See I knew I was right. I am leaving mine now so see you soon xx

Mason messages me when he is outside, and I make a way to his car. He is wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a nice top. “See I knew I was right you look lovely” I can feel myself blush “thank you Mase you look really nice too. I just don’t know if it’s a little tight around the stomach” I say trying to grab the material away from the stomach feeling insecure. I watch Mason’s eyes flicker up and down over me “you look amazing! Now stop it we going to have a great night!” I nod knowing he was right, tonight is going to be the best.

The rest of the night is amazing, Mason barely leaves my side as we speak to others at the party. I know he can sense my anxiety I even feel his hand rub my waist when he can sense I am uncomfortable, he always knows how to make me feel safe. I am on drink ‘I cannot even remember’ now and I can feel myself start to get a little tipsy. Mason looks over me with his hand wrapped around my side as he looks down at me “so where’s James tonight?” for a second I want to say ‘who is he talking about?’ due to the alcohol consumed. “He is working tonight. What about you? I am sure Rebecca would of jumped at the chance to be at a NYE party with you? I like Rebecca she is sweet”.

I can feel how tipsy I am with how unstable I have become on my feet “she is a nice girl. She is with her family tonight though. She thinks a lot of you though y/n, she really likes you too”.

I pull away from Mason’s grip “yeah she wouldn’t like me though Mason if she knew we slept together when you first got together”. I watch Mason’s face drop as I know he feels as guilty about it as I do. “Come on lets not dwell on that, lets just enjoy the night” which with that he grabs his arm around my waist.

The rest of night I can feel my anxiety start to fade with the amount of alcohol consumed. I loose Mason for a little while but with the liquid courage I have brought myself to chat to other people. I am dancing with a couple of girls that I have got chatting too when I can feel someone behind me and wrapped their arms around me, at first I thought it was Mason so I settle into it a little but then I felt their hands roll down the outside of my thighs and pushes their body into mine. I hear them whisper into my ear “I love the little show you put on for me. Shake it for me baby”. I quickly tense up and I turn around realising I have no idea who this guy is. “Who are you? What are you talking about?” I suddenly feel uneasy and try and back away from the guy. “Come on don’t be a tease baby. I know you were shaking it for me”. I watch how his eye darken and he grabs my waist. I can feel his fingers digging into me whilst his other hand wraps around my wrist. I suddenly begin to panic. “please let me go” I beg, but he doesn’t reply he just tightens his grip.

Suddenly I feel another’s presence “If I were you were mate I would let her go”. I feel the grip loosen slightly. I know that voice, Mason! I see the guys face turn from lust to anger “and who are you mate? She wants it! She has been dancing in front of me all night telling me she wants it. Look at her of course she wants it!” I can feel my heart drop do I really look like a slut? I was just trying to have a good time. I watch the rage in Mason’s eye’s “I will say it again I suggest you let her go before we got a problem.” The guy lets me go and squares up to Mason “yeah is it now. I suggest we take this outside”. I know Mason isn’t a fighter and I really don’t want him to get injured over me. I take Mason’s hand “come on just leave it Mase its not worth it.” I plead for Mason to drop it, not wanting to make more of a scene about it. ”Stay out of this you little slut! If the famous Mason Mount thinks he can try it with me, then lets go!” Mason doesn’t reply all I see is a swing and Mason’s hand colliding with the guys cheek which knocks the guy onto the floor. Chilly and a couple more people seeing the commotion quickly dragged the guy out whilst Mason looks at me and then quickly storms into the kitchen. Feeling embarrassed with all eyes on me I quickly run to the bathroom.

I can feel my heart beating in my chest, I cannot believe Mason just hit that guy. I can feel my eyes starting to water. Mason is always there to save me, but he didn’t need to do that. I compose myself after a couple of minutes and make my way back to the party. I bump into Paige “are you okay babes? I don’t know who that guy thinks he is? I don’t even know who he is I think he is a plus one”. I wrap my arms around Paige and settle into the hug “I am okay Paige, honestly. Well thanks to Mason I am. I am probably going to make a move though that guy has ruined my vibe”. Paige pulls away from the hug “no please y/n/n don’t leave!” I hesitate “I need to go find Mason and check he is okay”. Paige nods “I think he is in the kitchen”. I thank her and made my way to the kitchen.

I turn the corner and I can see Mason having a conversation with a couple of the boys “come on man! There was no need to punch him” I hear one of them say, I hear Mason grunt “he was groping her! Then you should of seen the way he spoke about her it was fucking disgusting I didn’t mean to hit him I just flipped”. I hear one of the cough and they all look up to me which the other men remove themselves from the kitchen.

“How you doing?” he asks me, I melt at his compassionate.

“You are asking me how I am doing? You are the one who punched someone. Hows your hand?” He lifted his hand up so I could inspect his knuckle. He winces as I touch the wound. I grab the bag of ice that is lied on the side and put it back onto the knuckle, which Mason hisses and swears. “I’m sorry”.

Mason looks at me and grabs the side of my face “what are you sorry for? He was the asshole and it was my choice to punch him. None of this is your fault”. Mason uses his un-injured hand to place a stand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t listen to a word he said. You look incredible and you deserve to dance and have a good time without being harassed.” He shoots me a reassuring smile. Which I return.

“Thanks Mase for saving the day! I am probably going to make a move now tho. I just want to forget tonight ever happened”. I see the sadness in Mason’s eye.

“What?! You cannot leave now. Its New Years in an hour come on just see the New Year in then I will let you go. Please I punched a guy for you, the least you can do is stay for me”. He jokes the last part but still it has persuaded me.

“Okay Okay you really are my weakness Mount. I will stay for you, but just until midnight” Mason gives me a toothy smile in return. “Just until midnight” he repeats back.

The rest of the evening is a laugh, I continue drinking and I am now totally smashed, which looking at Mason he is the same. We are dancing away together, chatting away with everyone. It gets to the New Years countdown and we are all cramped into the living room counting down together. As the numbers are getting smaller, I am not sure what to do. 12….11..Should I kiss Mason? 10…9.. Mason looks down at me, I am wondering if he is thinking the same? 8….7 Mason wraps an arm around my side and holds me closer. 6…5.. He closes the gap between us I look between his lips and his eyes. 4…3…2…1… before I know it our lips are connected. I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer as we continue to kiss. He pulls away and I see him bite his lips “happy new year beautiful” I lean in again which Mason returns the kiss as we pull away I talk “happy new year Mase”. I can feel butterflies in my stomach, right now in this moment, everything feels right.

Another hour passes and I can start to feel the alcohol wearing off, I say my goodbyes to Paige and Ben and I continue to walk round trying to find Mason. I haven’t seen him for the last 20 minutes which was weird as we have been attached at the hip during this party. I really don’t want to leave without staying goodbye. I look everywhere I can think of but he is nowhere to be found where can he be? I thought. My uber messages to say they are outside and I know I need to go, I check one more place before going Ben’s spare room. I knock lightly on the door and slowly open the door. I see Mason sat on the bed smiling at me “there you are!” I grin “I have been looking for you”.

Mason gets up and comes to meet me at the door, “I came to say goodbye, my uber is outside”. I explain. Mason doesn’t say a word and continue to look at me. We continue to stand there in silence, “okay well thank you for tonight. Its been the best night, and you know thank you for saving me and all that. So I guess I will see you soon”. Mason still doesn’t say anything and I can feel the air between us is weird, its never like this between us I wondered what’s happened. Mason then closes the gap between us, he brings my chin up so I am looking into his eyes. There is a sparkle in his eyes, Passion! He slowly lowers himself down and I can feel our lips brushing against eachother, it’s a slow loving kiss. It’s a kiss we have never had before. Mason hands lower and I can feel them brushing against my bum, he gives it a little squeeze before he continues the kiss. This time the kiss is needy as I can feel his tongue dominating my mouth. We both pull away fighting for breathe “I really gotta go my ubers waiting” Mason hums into my mouth as he continues the kiss “then go then” he kisses me, another deep kiss “or I can refund you the money you paid for the uber and you can stay here”. Mason and I continuing to kiss and right now in this moment all I can think about is the growing bulge between us. I can feel myself fighting with my head.

Mason rips his shirt over his head and exposes his toned chest, my lips water at the sight of it. We haven’t been this intimate in a year. I run my fingers down his chest as we continue the kiss, I can feel him moaning into my mouth. Mason turns me round and I can feel him grinding into my bum, which his dick is now rock hard. He starts to kiss down my neck and I know he is leaving me a hickey, I can feel the zipper of my jumpsuit and before I know it I am left in my underwear. Mason turns me around and looks me up and down “fuck you are so beautiful” he says making me blush and my instinct is to suddenly try and cover up. He grabs my arms away “come on its me. No need to hide away”. Our lips are connected again, I help Mason remove his trousers so we are both left in our underwear. Our hands are exploring eachother’s bodies, I can feel myself moaning as he brushes over the spot I need him most. That’s when reality hits me I quickly pull away “Mase what are we doing? We cannot do this?” Mason pulls away and takes a deep breath “I don’t know y/n you just do something to me. I just can’t handle myself around you. If you don’t want to do anything then its fine you can do home.” We both stand there, staring at eachother. My heart bonding through my chest whilst my head is fighting with my heart.

I wrap my arms around his neck “Mase I don’t know! I got James and you got Rebecca. We cannot do this to them. What if they find out?” Mason is continuing to tickle up and down my back “I will repeat y/n if you don’t want to do anything we don’t have too. But why are you worrying about them finding out? Its only us here”. I know he was right, I jump onto Mason which he catches me and wraps my legs around his waist. We both look into eachothers eyes and I can feel my heart melt, “I’m guessing that means you have opted in for the best sex of your life”. I roll my eyes as Mason walks me over to the bed and throws me down.

He quickly joins me and climbs inbetween my legs, I know what I am doing is wrong. I know I shouldn’t be doing this to James, but its Mason, its like he has a spell over me. All thoughts of James disappear as Mason kisses down my body, he unclips my bra and I can feel him flip my tipple through his tongue and slowly grazes them with his teeth “m-mase” I whimper. Mason continues to kiss down my body until he is finally at my core. He lifts my hips up so he can remove my thong then leaves a trial of kisses up my thighs, I try and contain my moans as I know we have to keep quiet but its so hard when I can feel his hot breathe on my pussy. He gives me one long swipe with his tongue and I scream out his name. He giggles and looks up at me, I give him pleading eyes begging him to go back to where he was “as much I love hearing you scream my name y/n we need to be quiet so we don’t get caught okay”. I nod in agreement hoping he will quickly return to where he was. Mason focuses on my clit and I can feel myself coming undone underneath him, Mason quickly inserts 2 fingers inside me as his tongue pays attention to my clit. I grab the pillow next to me and place it over my mouth to give me something to bite down on to stop me from screaming, I am a mess from Mason’s touch “fuck I have missed your fingers and mouth. Its so fucking good!” I am able to mutter which I can feel Mason smile into it. I am so close “go on baby let yourself go I know you wanna”. I relax my body and I can feel myself hitting my high, I try my hardest to be quiet but his name escapes my lips a little too loud.

Mason hovers back over me “I am sorry I didn’t mean to be so loud” I cover my face a little now feeling slightly embarrassed. Mason shakes his head “Baby girl you screaming my name is my weakness”. I smile into Mason as connect again, I can taste my cum in his mouth. I help Mason remove his boxers and his dick suddenly springs free I reach inbetween us and start to slowly pump him. I can feel him moaning into my neck from my touch which is giving the confidence to keep going. I connect my mouth to his neck and I start sucking away giving him a matching hickey to the one he gave me earlier “U-uh y-n d-don’t stop” he moans into my neck. I quickly flip us over so I am now in control, I can see the lust in Mason’s eyes as he watches me kiss down his toned body. I reach his cock and play around with it in my palm, I give the top small kisses and licks and then put it into the back of my throat as I choke on it, I know Mason loves it when I choke on it. I can hear Mason mutter words of recognition which is urging me to go harder and deeper. Mason reaches down and starts playing with my hair as he pushes my head down onto his cock when I hear a loud moan escape his lips. He quickly brings me back up so we are eye to eye again. “I need you” he begs.

Understanding exactly how Mason feels I climb back into my seated position and line myself up with him. Mason quickly stops me, looking at him confused “whats wrong?” I ask. Mason quickly shakes his head so I know its nothing that I am doing wrong. “Last time we slept together, me ankle was all messed up. So this time I wanna be on top, I need to absolutely ruin you y/n”. With that Mason flips us over so he his hoovering over me, placing all his weight on his arms that are either side of my head. Mason lines himself up with me and we both watch eachother as it goes in, I can feel myself stretching due to his size. Mason gives me a couple of seconds to adjust and then starts his rhythm. He is starting to speed up and I know he has got the pace that he wants, he starts hitting the spot and I can feel myself seeing stars “fuck your cock is so good” I manage to get out. “Believe me its nothing compared to this pussy, fuck yeah just like that”. Masons thrust have become sloppy and I know he is close. “You got another one in there for me baby” I nod my head as I cannot manage any words, Mason is destroying me. He pins my hips down and gives another couple of hard thrusts and with that I unravel onto his cock. This helps Mason hit his high as a couple of seconds later he quickly pulls out “fuck yeah shit so f-f-ucking good!” he moans as he cums all over my stomach and flops next to me on the bed. “Have I told you before how incredible our sex is?” Mason asks, I giggle in response “Yes, you have actually a couple of times”.

It’s the best night sleep I have had in ages, I roll over and Mason has his back to me. I allow myself to trace his the outline of his muscles with my fingers as he groans in appreciation. He rolls over to meet my eyes. “I gotta get going soon” Mason says bringing me out of my daydream. I look over at the clock and see its 11am “Yeah I need to as well. I need to sneak out before anyone sees me here”. Mason laughs knowing I am right. I get myself out of bed and force my feet into the ensuite, I gasp as I see the purple bruise that is glistening on my neck “Mason what the fuck! How am I going to go home with that?” Mason is quickly behind me, and laughs. I turn around and give Mason a stern look “Its not funny Mason how am I going to explain this?” Mason shrugs and turns his neck so I can see the matching hickey on his too “see you got too carried away as well y/n. You are not the only one who has explaining to do”.

I groan and storm back into the bedroom and flop onto the bed “we are horrible people Mason, I cannot believe we did that. I cheated on James. I hate myself”. I can feel the tears pricking in my eyes, Mason crouches in front of me so he is in between my legs, he quickly uses his thumb to wipe away the tears “come on don’t cry. We both had a lot to drink and got carried away. No one needs to know okay it can be our little secret. I hated doing that behind Rebecca’s back but last night was amazing I am not going to regret that”. Mason always knows what to say to make me feel better. He brings me to stand so we are facing eachother “No more sex” we both say together. My head is all over the place, I don’t know why I let myself do this to James but Mason has something over me I cannot explain. I just wish it wasn’t this complicated.

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Another 6 months has passed and Mason and I kept our word ‘no more sex’, its been like before NYE. No awkwardness has occurred and we have pretended nothing ever happened, we have never spoke about it since, we still talk everyday he is still my best friend though. Just to me this time feels different. James and I have been amazing, he is so kind and caring and I still beat myself up for what happened but I cannot change the past, I just need to focus on the future so I have decided to put my all into the relationship. I know James loves me as much as I love him, I never knew how I got so lucky with him. We had the best day when he asked me to marry him, I was so shocked as it was totally unexpected but of course I said yes, I would be stupid not too. Paige is having some girls over tonight and invited me over too, Lauren, Declan’s girlfriend was there and few other WAGs.

I sat with Lauren chatting away about life and I was telling them all about the engagement and them all gauging at the ring. That’s when I heard the whole group conversation turn about Mason. “I cannot believe Mason and Rebecca broke up like what the fuck” Paige says.

“I would snatch him up in a moment” one of the single girls of the group who I know as Monica contributes. I look at everyone confused, they broke up? Why didn’t he tell me?

“What they broke up?! Why what happened?” I turn to Lauren thinking out of all the girls she would know the answers.

Lauren shrugs “I don’t really know much. Apparently Mason became really distant and Rebecca thought there might be another girl. Mason always denied it but I agree he really didn’t seem that invested in the relationship recently, he seemed pre-occupied.”

“So what who ended it?” another girl asks but I am sitting at the edge of my seat waiting for Lauren to reply.

“Mason ended it, apparently he couldn’t deal with her constantly accusing him of there being someone else. I agree with Rebecca though Mason has seemed different its only been recent I would say since like New Year. He has totally distant himself from the relationship, maybe its for the best they both weren’t happy”. I can feel my heart beating in my chest.

“I’m surprised Mason didn’t tell you. Usually he tells you everything” Lauren continued turning to me.

“Yeah I guess he has decided to keep girl troubles out of our conversation this time”. Which I gave a little laugh which the whole giggle in reply. The conversation changes topic and everyone is engaged in conversation, I go to make myself another drink when I feel a presence behind me, I saw Lauren standing there. “What happened New Year?” she asks, I can feel my heart pounding, I like Lauren and I don’t wanna lie but I am not sure what Mason told her or not?

“I-I um-um not sure what you are talking about Lau” I try and act dump

“You know Declan and I stayed at Chilly’s that night too. When the party finished we walked past the room where Mason was staying and we could hear muffle sounds, it sounded like he was sleeping with someone. Then first thing in the morning I was downstairs when you tried to sneak out. So what happened? I am not dumb you know. I won’t judge whatever it is. We tried to ask Mason about it but he wouldn’t give us a straight answer”.

I look at Lauren in defeat I know she has found out our secret. “Okay okay I slept with Mason on New Years Eve.” I look down trying to not meet her eye, admitting it now makes it feel real.

“WHAT!!” I quickly grab Lauren and move her to the other side of the kitchen away from where the other girls are sitting. “Shhh will you keep your voice down no one else can know please”. I plead with her.

“Why didn’t you just tell me. What happened? How did you two randomly just get into bed together. Tell me everything”. Lauren picks up the glass of wine next to her and starts taking a couple of sips, knowing that she wants the gossip.

“Okay me and Mason had been a kind of friends with benefits since we first met.”

“Nooooo shut up!!!” she squeals

“let me continue…” she makes the action of zipping up her mouth and lets me continue.

“So well remember when he hurt his ankle..” she nods “well that’s when everything changed. I went round there to comfort him and well one thing let to another and we ended up in bed. I actually stayed the night which never happened. The next morning he told me he was starting to see Rebecca so we called it quits. Shortly after I met James and everything was fine, me and Mason were just friends and no lines where blurred”.

Lauren took another sip of her drink “so what happened New Years then?”

“Well obviously we both had a lot to drink, and then it kicked off with that guy started to make advances to me and he called me a slag and all that then Mason punched him and I don’t know maybe it was the heroic action or the amount of alcohol consumed I generally don’t know. I went to say goodbye and one thing let to another and we ended up in bed together. We woke up both feeling like shit so we agreed to not discuss it. Please I already feel awful about it, please don’t say anything to James.”

I am now starting to panic but Lauren is quick to assure me “babe my loyalties are with you not James. So whatever is said in this room stays in this room okay. So whats happened since because Mason has been all over the place have you guys continued to sleep together or what?”

“No nothing like that Lauren. We have agreed nothing will happened since that night and me and Mason are still close and talking everyday but nothing like that. Well I thought we were close but he didn’t tell me he broke up with Rebecca so god knows”.

“I have no idea what goes on in that guys mind. So whats Mason like in bed anyway? I would feel like his ego couldn’t match his performance if you know what I mean”. She is now giggling away like a little school girl.

I take another sip of my drink now feeling the after effects of the alcohol. “he is amazing Lau! Like obviously I would never tell him this because I wouldn’t want to boost his ego more but he is the best sex I have ever had. The way he makes me feel damn no one comes close”. Lauren smirks at me.

“So tell me again why you and Mason are nothing more then ‘just friends’?”

“I am engaged Lauren” she nods slowly but I can tell she knows there is lot more to that answer.

“Come on we should go back before the girls wonder where the hell we are?” I nod in agreement.

“I will be right in just need another drink”. I wait for Lauren to leave the room before I let out the deep breathe that I didn’t realise I was holding in. I cannot believe he broke up with Rebecca but why didn’t he tell me? Was it because of me? I need answers.

The next couple of hours I am completely distracted, all I can think about is Mason. I have drink after drink before I am completely tipsy. I say my goodbyes to everyone as my taxi notifies me they are outside. I wrap my arms around Lauren and thank her as it has been good to get it all out, “call me if you need anything”. She says and I know she means that. Before I knew it the taxi was pulling up outside Mason’s house, I hesitate for a minute. I don’t even know why I am here. Before I even walk up the steps I see Mason emerging from house, he looks confused until he recognises it was me. I go to say something but the taxi man interrupts “love you need to pay” I quickly look for my bag and then the realisation hits me “shit I left my bag at Paiges”. The taximan does not look amused but Mason just giggles “typical y/n. No worries I got this mate”. He turns to the taximan and chucks some cash at him and helps me inside.

“Soooo I-I heard you b-broke up with Rebeccaaaa” I slur before Mason even shuts the door, I am struggling to get my words out due to the alcohol consumption. Mason stops in his tracks.

“that’s why you are here”.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I say pouting

“It wasn’t anything to really tell. Rebecca kept accusing me of being absent and had it in her head I was cheating on her. It was constant arguing I couldn’t be in that toxic relationship, I have had them with my exs I couldn’t do that again.”

“Well she wasn’t wrong about the cheating” I say plopping myself on the sofa, Mason rolls his eyes and sits next to me.

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you. I have just had so much going on it kind of escaped my mind but I am sorry. You look lovely tonight you know”.

I can feel myself blushing. I hate that he has that impact on me. “So now tell me y/n why are you here and not at home with your fiancé?”

I take a deep breathe “I don’t know”

“Come on y/n of course you do”.

“I spoke to Lauren tonight. She said she heard us on NYE then saw me leaving the next morning she asked about us. It actually felt good to tell someone the truth. I am sorry I know we agreed to keep it a secret.”

Mason is tracing lines across my cheek and smiles “its fine y/n I am not angry. Before I broke up with Rebecca I came clean to Declan so chances are Lauren already knew she was probably just giving you the chance to tell her the truth. I had to talk to someone I had to get it out”.

“I love you Mason” I blurt out.

Mason drops his hand from my cheek, and shuffles back. “What do you mean you love me? You are engaged y/n”.

“Mason I have loved you from the first night we met. The way we connected, the way you made me feel. The only way we could ever be close enough was ‘friends with benefits’ so I accepted that’s all we are going to be. But now Mason I am not sure if that’s enough, I fucking love you Mason. I love the way you make me feel, the way you know me better then I know myself. Come on Mason you cannot tell me you don’t feel the same”. I don’t know where this courage as come from I am guessing its going something to do with the amount of drinks I have done.

“Y/N I will repeat it again it doesn’t matter how I feel you are engaged.”

“Lauren said the reason why you broke up with Rebecca was because you became distant like you were focussing on someone else. Are you seriously going to tell me that wasn’t me?”

“No y/n me breaking up with Rebecca had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you. We had sex y/n that was all it was. No feelings, no strings attached remember that’s all we were. We used eachother to make eachother feel good at our time of need that’s what we were y/n. I am sorry if you caught feelings but this is what we were, nothing more.” Mason spat out. I wanted to be sick and I can feel tears starting to prick in my eyes. I hate myself how could I let myself confess my feelings for someone who doesn’t care. I start to sniffle to hold in the tears and make a beeline for the door.

“Y/n wait!” I hear Mason shout. I quickly turn around on my heals.

“No you are right Mason. That’s all we were, it was me being stupid. How could someone like you ever catch feelings for silly little m-m-me”. I stutter the last part and the tears are now completely falling down my face, I run out the house and never look back. I can feel my heart shattering into a thousand pieces, how can I have these kind of feelings for someone who I am not even engaged too? How can I feel this way about someone who doesn’t love me back.

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Mason’s POV- 6 Months later

After a couple of rings Declan picks up the phone “Mason I got your messages mate, I am not replying for a reason, please you cannot do this”.

“Please Dec understand she needs to know how I feel. She needs to know how I feel before she marries the wrong person”.

“Mase don’t you think you have put that poor girl through enough. Just let her be”.

“I can’t Dec. I have tried to put her out of my head. I can’t please Dec. I love her”.

“Then if you loved her Mase you wouldn’t hurt her, on her wedding day on all days”.

I know deep down Declan was right, I just cannot let you go. I cannot let you make the worst decision of your life. Ever since that night I have beat myself up with how I acted, I just never thought you ever felt that way about me. Please, look at you, you are the most perfect women and I never thought you would get with a guy like me. I tried to ring and text you everyday since that day but you ended up blocking my number and I even showed up at your flat which you refused to open the door eventhough I knew you were home. I would give anything to go back in time and admit my feelings too, I should of never let you go. And now its probably too late.

Chilly was invited to the wedding as Paige was the Maid of Honour, I asked Chilly to give me the address of the wedding. He fought very hard to not give it to me, I am not sure if he knew what happened between us but he must know me asking for the address of the wedding will not end good. Eventually I got it out of him. I couldn’t sleep all night I was so worried about what I was going to say to you tomorrow, I have to give myself a chance, a chance for love.

I walk through the venue and its absolutely breathtaking, I look at all the little details and I know that is totally your input. I know you would have everything looking perfect. I pump into one of the waiters “oh sorry” I quickly apologise. He looks completely shocked.

“Oh my god! You are Mason Mount! Can I get a picture?” I agree and he quickly snaps a selfie and thanks me.

“What room is the bride in?” I ask

“Down the hall and to the right is the bride’s suite”.

I thank him and quickly hurry down the hall. I can feel my palm’s sweating I don’t want to burst into the room with a load of people in there. I wait outside hesitating if whether I should do this when Paige comes out. She scowls at me, she definitely knows what has happened. “what are you doing here Mason? If its what I think don’t even think about it. I will tackle you to the floor now”. She laughs but I know she is totally serious.

“Please Paige, 5 mins that’s all I am asking. Please.” I see Paige hesitate but looks around down the hallway.

“ 5 mins okay. She is on her own but we all coming back in 15 minutes to get photos done and I want you gone by then”. I nod grateful for her.

“Thank you Paige” I hug her and then make my way to the door.

I hesitate again but I know I am wasting precious time, I quietly knock as I hear the ‘come in’ from the other side. You quickly spin around as our eyes meet. You looks absolutely incredible, I have never seen someone so beautiful. I can feel my mouth go completely dry.

“Mason? What are you doing here? I thought me blocking you was enough of an understanding for you.”

I am stood still in my tracks, I still cannot get over how mesmerising you look. “I-I’m sorry you look unreal. Wow absolutely incredible”.

I took a step forwards in which you take a step straight back to remain the distance between us. “Thank you but I will repeat Mason what are you doing here?”

“I-I’m an idiot” is the only thing I can get out. I have never been this nervous my mouth is totally dry.

“Yeah no shit” you spit back. I kind of deserved that.

“5 mins y/n please” I grab your hands in mine and this time you don’t pull away. “I love you y/n”

You let go of my hands and shove me away I can see the tears starting to appear in your eyes as you try to look up to prevent them from falling down. “No Mason. No fucking way you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to par me off when I confess my feelings then want to wait until my fucking wedding day to confess yours fuck you Mount!” You are now starting to get heated.

“I tried y/n. You blocked me remember and refused to open the door. This was my only chance”

“D-Don’t you think you hurt me enough. Now you g-gotta come and ruin my wedding day too why Mason”.

I hate that I am making you cry, especially when you look that beautiful. I slowly close the space between us trying to not make you flinch, I slowly wipe away the stray tears that have fallen down. “I needed you to know how I feel before I lost you forever.” You start to sniffle and I can hear you trying to control your breathing, you do not incept so I continue. “Y/N I have always loved you. From that first moment I met you, I was taken back by how someone could be that beautiful on the outside was so beautiful on the inside. Our sex is amazing, I have never connected with anyone on that level before. But its not just the sex y/n, I love how you listen and understand me. You are always there when I needed you. You know me better then anyone else. I was stupid y/n and I shouldn’t of said what I did. I didn’t mean it none of it was true. The reason why I left Rebecca was because of you, I guess I started distancing myself from her because every time I looked at her I started comparing her to you and I saw everything that she wasn’t. Fuck I love you y/n and I am a stupid stupid man for not confessing my feelings to you that night. I was scared I have never felt for someone the way I feel for you and it scared the absolute fuck out of me. Please y/n you cannot tell me those feelings have just gone away”.

I can hear your breathing now as your struggling to breathe, I rub your hand trying to get you to calm down. “Please y/n even if you don’t want this, then please can we still be friends. I cannot live my life knowing that you are not apart of it. These past 6 months have broken me, you can ask anyone”.

“M-Mase I cannot do this now. Why did you wait until now to tell me all of t-t-this. I-I g-get m-married i-inn 30 m-minutes.” You are struggling with your words and all I want is to wrap you up in my arm and take away the pain. I know there is nothing I can say or do, its too late you have made your decision and you are marrying him. I can feel the tears starting to fall down my face as I watch the love of my life marry another guy.

“I-I’m sorry for everything y/n. If I could rewind time I would do this so much better I promise. If your change your mind I will be at the docks in an hour waiting.” I place a small loving kiss to your lips, I know I shouldn’t but I needed to feel the softness of your lips on mine one last time. I can feel both our tears running down our faces onto our lips as we pull away. With that I turn around and walk straight out the venue, knowing deep down that I have lost you forever.

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I look at the time, and I see its 3pm. The wedding was taking place an hour ago. I look around the docks but I cannot see you. I look down and flip my hoodie over my head as I let the tears fall down. A small part of me thought you would change your mind, but here we are I am wrong again. I walk a couple of steps and I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around to see you standing there, you still have your bridal hair and make up on but you have got changed into a tracksuit. Looking over the tracksuit I actually realise that’s mine that I have been looking for, for ages, but that’s a question for another time. I am stunned that you are stood in front of me. You were first to speak “you were right Mase. I couldn’t walk down the aisle knowing the love of my life is here. I couldn’t do that to me or James. Sorry I am late I had to speak to James and then my dad. Both understood actually it was a lot easier then I thought, my dad just upset about the money paid for the wedding.”

I quickly respond “I will pay your dad back every penny he spent on the wedding. It will be a clear slate I promise”. It’s the least I can do I suppose, I am the reason the wedding was ruined.

“Thank you but I am not here for your money mase. I want you. I fucking love you” you jump closing the gap between us and our lips connect. For the first time this kiss feels right, like everything is happening how its supposed to. As we pull away I gather my thoughts, you still unreal even in my tracksuit. That when the sun reflects on the necklace you were wearing, it was a small sliver heart with your birthstone in it, looking at it I remember what it is.

“You were going to get married in the necklace I got you”. I run the necklace through my fingers as I caress your neck. “What did James think about the necklace it literally has the number 7 on the back of it?”.

You giggle at me “please can we not speak about my ex-fiancé who I literally just left at the alter. But I told him the number 7 was my lucky number. Well I guess it still is”. You wink at me and pull me in for another kiss. Our tongues fighting for control, I finally give in and allow you the control. We quickly pulling away remembering where we are.

“Shall we get out of here.” You wink at me.

I grab your hand in mine as we begin our walk along the docks “yeah lets get out of her before you change your mind”. I joke. You look up at me and playfully punch my arm. You link your arm into mine. We stop walking and you look up into my eyes “here’s to forever”.

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