#not sure if he wears boxer briefs or regular boxers

[hurriane23456]

The Holiday Transformation

John never thought he'd end up as a mall Santa, but with the holidays approaching and a gap in his income, the gig seemed like an easy way to make some quick cash. When he arrived at the mall for his first shift, he felt a mix of excitement and curiosity. The interview had been brief, with only a few odd questions that stuck out in his memory—one about tight spaces, in particular, which had struck him as both strange and oddly specific. Nevertheless, he'd agreed to the job and showed up promptly at the designated time.

A tall man in his mid-40s with a clipboard and an air of efficiency greeted him at the mall's employee entrance. “John, right? Good to meet you. I’m Carl. I’ll get you set up,” the man said, leading him down a long hallway behind the scenes. The corridors were sterile and dimly lit, far from the bright holiday cheer outside. Finally, they reached a small dressing room. Inside, a massive padded bodysuit was draped over a chair, complete with a realistic face mask, gloves, and oversized boot-like feet.

“This is your Santa suit,” Carl said with a grin. “Well, part of it. We use this to ensure consistency. Kids need to believe they’re seeing the real Santa, you know?”

John raised an eyebrow but nodded. He’d assumed he’d just be putting on a traditional red-and-white costume over his regular clothes. “I didn’t know I’d be wearing all… that.”

“Yup. It’s a full-body transformation,” Carl replied. “I’ll stick around to help you into it. The first time can be tricky, but don’t worry—it’s designed to fit snugly.” He gestured to the suit. “Go ahead and strip down. Everything comes off.”

John hesitated. “You’re staying in here?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve done this a hundred times. We need to make sure the fit is perfect, especially with the zipper and the mask,” Carl explained, his tone professional.

With a shrug, John started undressing. He folded his clothes neatly on a nearby chair until he stood there in just his boxers. Carl gave him a nod, and John slipped those off too, leaving him completely exposed. Carl didn’t seem to care; he was too busy inspecting the bodysuit.

“All right, start with the legs,” Carl instructed, holding up the heavy suit.

John stepped into the suit, guiding his feet through the openings. The thick, padded thighs and calves molded around his leaner legs, giving him a bulkier, almost comical silhouette. “This feels weird,” John muttered, wiggling his toes as the padded feet encased his own.

“Yeah, it’ll feel weird at first. Pull it up to your waist,” Carl said. He held the suit steady as John tugged it higher. The fake belly, which was already attached, settled over his stomach. It jiggled slightly with every movement, making John chuckle nervously.

“Next, arms,” Carl said, guiding John’s hands into the gloves, which were seamlessly attached to the suit. The gloves were thick and soft, with exaggerated knuckles and slightly wrinkled skin. Carl helped adjust the fingers, ensuring each one was perfectly aligned. “Flex your hands. Good. Now for the tricky part—the mask.”

Carl picked up the lifelike mask and handed it to John. The interior was lined with a mesh-like fabric that clung to his face as he pulled it over his head. It was snug, almost claustrophobically so, but Carl adjusted it for him, making sure the eye holes and mouth aligned properly.

“Hold still,” Carl said, stepping behind him. John felt the firm tug of the zipper as Carl closed the suit up along his back. The sound of the zipper locking into place was oddly final. Carl gave the suit a few tugs to ensure everything was smooth and then stepped back. “Perfect. Take a look.”

John turned to the mirror and froze. The transformation was uncanny. The man staring back at him wasn’t John—it was a plump, rosy-cheeked Santa Claus, complete with twinkling blue eyes and a perfectly groomed white beard.

“Whoa,” John said, running his gloved hand over the mask’s cheek. “That’s insane.”

“Pretty convincing, huh? Now let’s get the red suit on.”

Carl handed John the traditional Santa costume: the red pants, the matching coat, and the wide black belt. John pulled on the pants first, tucking them into the oversized boots. The coat was next, sliding over the padded shoulders and fastening in front with shiny brass buttons. The belt cinched everything together, giving him the classic Santa look. Finally, Carl perched the red hat atop John’s head and handed him a bell.

“You’re good to go. Just remember, stay in character. Ho-ho-ho, lots of laughs, and don’t let the kids pull on the beard too hard.”

For hours, John sat in the oversized chair in the center of the mall’s festive display, surrounded by fake snow and twinkling lights. Children clambered onto his lap, parents snapped pictures, and he ho-ho-ho’d until his voice grew hoarse. The heat was nearly unbearable, and he could feel sweat pooling inside the suit, but he powered through.

When John’s shift finally ended, he trudged back to the dressing room, grateful for the chance to escape the oppressive heat of the suit. When he opened the door, he found another guy waiting for him. The man looked to be around John’s age, maybe mid-20s, with sharp features, striking green eyes, and a confident posture. His crisp white T-shirt and jeans clung to his toned physique, making John instantly self-conscious of his current sweat-soaked, padded form.

“Hey,” the guy said, flashing a disarming smile. “I’m Tyler. Guess I’m up next.”

John chuckled, pulling off the Santa hat and tossing it onto the chair. “Nice to meet you, Tyler. You’re in for a wild ride.”

Tyler nodded toward the bodysuit. “So… that’s what I’m putting on, huh?”

“Yep,” John said, already unbuckling the black belt. “It’s all yours.”

Tyler glanced at the oversized Santa suit and then back at John. “You look… committed,” he joked. “So, how does this work?”

John gestured at the bodysuit. “I’ll get out of this thing first, then you’ll hop in. Fair warning—it’s warm. And sweaty.”

Tyler shrugged, still grinning. “Part of the job, I guess.”

Tyler moved closer to help as John peeled off the red coat, the thick fabric clinging to the padded shoulders. “Here, let me grab that,” Tyler offered, taking the coat and draping it over a hook.

“Thanks,” John said, kicking off the oversized boots. His movements were clumsy from the bulk of the bodysuit, and Tyler chuckled softly, clearly amused.

Finally, John reached for the zipper at the back of the bodysuit. “This is the tricky part,” he admitted, twisting awkwardly. “I can’t reach it.”

“Let me help,” Tyler said, stepping behind him. His fingers brushed against John’s shoulder as he found the zipper tab. “Man, this thing’s tight.”

“Tell me about it,” John replied with a laugh. He felt the cool air rush in as Tyler slowly unzipped the suit, tugging it down with steady hands. The padded back peeled away, revealing John’s sweat-slicked skin. Tyler didn’t flinch, though he let out a low whistle.

“Damn, this thing’s like a sauna.”

“You have no idea,” John muttered, stepping out of the suit one leg at a time. Tyler crouched to help guide the thick feet off, his hands firm but gentle. Once John was finally free, he let out a relieved sigh, standing there in just his boxers. His skin glistened, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Your turn,” John said, motioning to the suit. He couldn’t help but smirk as Tyler stared at the bodysuit, his expression a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

“Guess I better strip,” Tyler said, kicking off his sneakers and pulling off his shirt. His chest was as toned as John had imagined, and for a moment, John found himself oddly transfixed. Tyler didn’t seem to notice as he dropped his jeans and boxers in one swift motion, standing completely bare.

“All right,” Tyler said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

John picked up the bodysuit and held it open. “Step in,” he instructed, mirroring what Carl had done for him earlier. Tyler slid his feet into the legs, grimacing slightly as the damp padding clung to his skin.

“Man, this is… uh, intimate,” Tyler joked, wiggling his toes in the padded feet. John laughed, helping him pull the suit up to his waist. The fake belly settled over Tyler’s toned abs, and he gave it an experimental pat. “Nice. I feel like I’ve aged 30 years and gained 50 pounds.”

“Wait until you see the mask,” John said, guiding Tyler’s arms into the gloves. “Flex your fingers.”

Tyler did as instructed, marveling at how natural the oversized hands looked. “This is insane.”

“Now for the grand finale,” John said, picking up the mask. “Brace yourself.”

Tyler took a deep breath as John slipped the mask over his head, adjusting it until the eye holes and mouth were perfectly aligned. “Hold still,” John said, stepping behind him to zip up the suit. The zipper moved smoothly, sealing Tyler inside. When John stepped back, the transformation was complete.

“Take a look,” John said, gesturing to the mirror.

Tyler turned, his green eyes wide with amazement. “Holy—! That’s me? No way.”

“Believe it,” John said, clapping him on the back. “You’re officially Santa Claus.”

“Okay, you’re all set,” John said, stepping back to admire his work.

Tyler turned toward the mirror, adjusting the Santa hat. “Not bad, right? Do I look as good as you did in this?”

John smirked. “You’re pulling it off. Maybe even better than me.”

Tyler laughed, but then his voice softened. “Hey, uh… before you go, I was wondering something.”

“What’s that?” John asked, pausing as he gathered his clothes.

Tyler hesitated, his cheeks—at least what was visible through the mask—turning slightly red. “Do you… want to grab a drink after our shifts tomorrow? You know, just us.”

John blinked, caught off guard but pleasantly surprised. “You mean, like… a date?”

Tyler shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, maybe. If you’re into that kind of thing.”

A grin spread across John’s face. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

As John opened the door to leave, Tyler called after him.

“Hey, don’t forget—same time tomorrow,” Tyler said, his voice playful but warm.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” John replied, already looking forward to seeing Tyler again—and the strange but unexpectedly sweet job that brought them together.

[bigmusclenm]

Sweet Gains - Part 3

[Story Collection] | [Part 2] [●] [Part 4🔵]

Liam tried his best to act cool and follow his regular post-workout routine while Aiden went somewhere to find clothes big enough for him. Liam wanted to take a shower, but his dick was hard inside his pants, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself by walking into the shower stalls with a hard-on visible under the towel. So, instead of heading to the showers, Liam carefully went to the lockers to sit on a bench, hoping and waiting for his dick to go soft. But the memory of Aiden’s huge body expanding made it impossible.

Liam took deep breaths, sitting on the bench with his bag on his lap to hide his crotch from the other guys who were changing after their workout. All those guys were hot in their very own way, but Liam’s mind could only think of Aiden and the magnificent ass that defied all logic. Liam couldn’t stop wondering how Aiden’s boxer briefs had survived the growth episode, but a part of him was glad they had. Aiden’s growth spurt had been so hot that Liam almost passed out, and if Aiden’s underwear had had the same fate as the rest of his clothes, Liam would’ve collapsed right there.

“Calm down; you have to act cool. Don’t freak out. Just…” Liam whispered, making sure nobody else could hear him. “Just what? What can I do? Damn! I need to get my hands on that ass,” Liam added, sighing deeply as his dick throbbed once again.

Liam looked into his bag, still hopeful that his dick would soften eventually, and found the two remaining desserts he had bought at the bakery shop. The Pec Pump Puddings looked delicious, and for a few seconds, Liam wondered if it was a good idea to give Aiden any other dessert, considering his body had already grown a lot that day. Aiden’s muscles had all grown magnificently already, and it was clear the trainer had trouble finding clothes to wear, so adding more growth sounded like a little bit too much.

However, in Liam’s mind, the images and sounds of Aiden growing out of his clothes kept playing on repeat, so instead of paying attention to his rational thoughts, Liam could only think about witnessing another growth spurt, hopefully, an even bigger and more intense one. A part of Liam wanted to give Aiden both puddings to see his impressive chest blowing up gigantically. However, looking down at his pecs, Liam remembered that he also wanted to get more muscular. His mind ran miles a second, so he ignored his surroundings.

“Hey, are you going to eat that pudding without me?” Aiden said, standing behind Liam and making him turn around. “I think I found something that will fit me, so just give me a few minutes, and we’ll eat those delicious puddings,” Aiden added, but Liam had no words to respond.

Aiden stood before Liam with only a towel around his waist and his massive, perfectly sculpted torso fully exposed. Aiden’s bulging muscles glistened under the light due to some water still traveling down the curves and valleys of his impressive upper body. Somehow, Aiden’s muscles looked even more prominent than before. Liam didn’t know if it was a visual effect due to the water and light or if Aiden had experienced another growth spurt in the shower. Aiden’s body was perfect in all aspects, and Liam’s dick got even harder under his bag.

Still entranced by Aiden’s magnificent, imposing presence, Liam’s eyes traveled down to Aiden’s lower body, and his heart skipped a beat. The towel Aiden was wearing was barely enough to encircle his massive thighs, and even from the front, it was clear his massive ass was pulling the fabric to the back part, leaving a gap between the edges of the towel at the front that gave Liam the chance to look at Aiden’s dick and full balls without obstacles. Liam’s dick was so hard that he started feeling somewhat dizzy, which he attributed to too much blood going to his crotch and leaving his brain without supply.

“I needed to take a shower to cool off, but I still feel so pumped and ready for more,” Aiden said, doing a most muscular pose that showcased his massive bulging muscles even more and made Liam gasp in surprise and awe. “But enough is enough, so I texted my boss for permission to leave early, and he accepted. I told him I was having an allergic reaction and that I was swelling. I know this is not related to allergies. But the rest is true,” Aiden said, turning around to walk to his locker, giving Liam a good view of his hugely perfect ass.

Liam couldn’t respond as his mouth stayed open in awe. He knew his arousal was too evident, but he didn’t care about anything but the perfect specimen of pure manliness standing before him. Liam’s mouth was watering—worse than when he was starving. His mind was cracking, and an animalistic desire to touch Aiden’s body obscured his thoughts. Liam had never felt so aroused before. He had always felt attracted to hot guys, but Aiden was making him feel out of his mind.

“What do you say if we go somewhere to hang out for a while? We haven’t actually met each other,” Aiden said, still facing away from Liam, as he brought up a clean pair of boxer briefs and started pulling the fabric to see if it would resist his new bulging ass. “Maybe you can show me the place where you bought all those delicious desserts?” Aiden said, letting the towel fall to the ground to try to put on his underwear.

Liam’s heart started beating faster as Aiden’s bare, massive ass stood in full glory only a few feet from him. Liam looked around and noticed that the room was empty. He forgot about everything and everybody around him because Aiden’s body had him hypnotized. Liam’s dick throbbed violently and felt ready to explode as Aiden attempted to put on his boxers, only to be stopped by the massive balls of flesh attached to his back, preventing him from pulling the underwear all the way up.

Aiden struggled for a few more seconds before he managed to get the stretchy fabric of his boxer briefs to cover at least part of his massive ass. However, Aiden had a lot to handle with his new size, so he had to adjust the underwear in several spots at the front, leaving half of his ass uncovered, which drew Liam’s attention. Liam wasn’t thinking clearly; his mind was lost in Aiden’s ass, so he didn’t register when his body rose from the bench, approached Aiden from behind, and pulled the waistband of the underwear higher, making the big ass jiggle a bit.

“Wow, wow, wow! What was that?” Aiden said, turning around to face Liam with a broad, goofy smile. “We’re not that close yet... but I appreciate the help. I needed a hand,” Aiden added, softly punching Liam’s right pec.

“I’m really sorry. I thought you—I’m sorry,” Liam said, blushing and stepping backward, trying to escape from Aiden.

“Bro, it’s fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen a lot of me earlier. But I have more to show off now,” Aiden responded, chuckling and turning away from Liam again. “But next time, get me dinner before you touch my ass, deal?” Aiden said as he picked up a massive pair of dark joggers.

“Yeah, deal. Wait, do you want me to invite you to dinner? Like, on a date?” Liam said, clearly nervous.

“Dude, I’m kidding,” Aiden said, laughing out loud. “Now, calm the python on your pants down, and let me get dressed.”

Liam blushed and placed his hands in front of his crotch, trying to hide his hard-on. Liam quickly moved away from Aiden and focused on trying to find a way to cover his crotch. The room stayed silent for a while as both dealt with their own issues. The tension was evident between them, confusing Liam and making his dick hard. He was so nervous that he was sweating profusely. He needed to get away from Aiden as soon as possible.

“Man, I gotta go. I remembered I had to check my mail. So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Liam said as he quickly took his bag and ran away.

“Your mail? Wait, what? Man, I thought you and I...” Aiden said as he struggled to put on a tank top. “I didn’t mean to scare you... Are you serious?” Aiden asked, but Liam had already left the room, only leaving the puddings on the bench. “What the fuck?”

Liam escaped the gym, using his bag to cover his crotch. He couldn’t forget about Aiden’s body, so he was conflicted about going back and hanging out with the big guy. Passing by the bakery shop on his way home didn’t help with his desire to grow Aiden’s body even more. But Liam didn’t want to get even more obsessed with his trainer’s body. Liam was already walking home with a hard-on in his pants, which was uncomfortable, so he didn’t want to make things even more complicated.

For the rest of the day, Liam tried to think about anything else, but the memory of Aiden’s body flooded his mind. Liam sat on his couch in the evening, jerking off for the fourth time that day, feeling exhausted, but his arousal didn’t go away. Liam was naked, and while one of his hands stroked his 10-inch-long dick, the other one explored his newly developed muscular body. He was impressed by his gains and wanted to get even bigger muscles. But his main desire was to grow Aidan beyond human proportions.

“Damn it! I’m going nuts with this guy, and he just let that towel fall and made me lose it. Ugh,” Liam groaned as his dick started shooting again, and the globs of cum landed on his abs. “I better change to another gym before I lose my mind. Or worse, before I start acting all creepy around him again.”

Liam groaned as he pulled a towel to clean his torso once again, feeling his dick finally soften in his hand. He felt awful about his behavior around Aiden but couldn’t help himself. Aiden was too hot to resist him, and the desserts took him to a new level of hotness. As he cleaned his bare torso, Liam thought about the puddings he left on the bench, and his mind wondered if Aiden had eaten them.

“I guess I’ll never know because I’m never going back to that gym,” Liam said, ashamed of his actions. “Or maybe I will... I don’t know!” He added, feeling confused.

Then, Liam heard someone knocking at his door and froze for a few seconds. He had never had visits before, so he didn’t know if the sound was at his door. Nobody knew his address, and he didn’t have many friends, so it was unusual to have a person knocking at his door. Since the knocking persisted, Liam quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and stood up. He wasn’t used to opening the door with nothing but a towel on, but his new impressive physique gave him the confidence to walk to the door and open it.

As soon as the door opened, Liam’s mouth fell to the ground as he saw Aiden’s smiley face looking back at him. Aiden looked hot, wearing the same outfit Liam had seen when he left the gym: the oversized joggers and tank top. However, the tank top fit him very differently from what Liam had seen. The fabric was incredibly stretched to accommodate the size of Aiden’s pecs, which had grown after Liam left. Immediately, Liam knew the big guy had eaten the puddings he had left on the bench.

“Hey, dude. I don’t want to be creepy, but I read your address on your file at the gym. I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Aiden said, absentmindedly bouncing his right pec, making Liam’s legs feel weak, and his dick got hard again. “You left all of a sudden, and I... Well, I’m checking on you, man. You left me confused and worried.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that, but I had to feed my dog,” Liam lied, not even remembering his previous lie.

“Dog? Didn’t you have to check your mail or something?” Aiden asked, bouncing his enormous pecs once again, causing a few ripping sounds to echo in the building’s hallway as his strained tank top fought to contain the muscle mass on Aiden’s chest.

“Yeah. I meant my dog’s mail. No, my mail’s dog. No, no, no. Oh, fuck!” Liam said, aware that he wasn’t making any sense, which caused Aiden to laugh out loud.

“I bet you don’t even have a dog. You don’t need to lie. I know why you left, and—well, I can’t blame you; I look so damn hot now, and now I know this is all your fault.” Aiden said, bringing up a bag with several boxes inside. Liam immediately recognized the logo of the Big Boy’s Bakery on the boxes. “I know what you did, and… I think this is great.” Aiden added, playfully winking at Liam and raising his arm to flex his massive bicep.

Liam stayed silent, in shock, trying to process the scene. “So... aren’t you mad? I mean, I made you grow out of your clothes, and—I’ll be honest, I wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.” Liam finally accepted and was surprised when he saw Aiden smiling back at him.

“I was counting on that,” Aiden said, stepping forward, pressing his massive pecs against Liam’s bare torso, forcing the thinner guy to step backward.

Liam smiled, realizing that his dream was coming true. He had Aiden only for himself, and without a dozen guys walking around them, Liam could finally show Aiden how much he desired him. Liam let the towel fall to the ground, revealing his big dick in full glory. Simultaneously, Aiden placed the boxes on a table and started undressing, firstly revealing his massive pecs that stuck out about 8 or 9 inches from his torso, with the most beautiful and juicy nipples Liam had ever seen.

“I bet you like what you see,” Aiden said, bouncing his pecs rhythmically as he also started pulling his pants lower.

Liam froze while his trainer undressed before him in his living room. It was more than a dream come true, so he could barely contain his excitement. Aiden looked better than any bodybuilder Liam had seen, and considering the boxes that the big guy had brought with him, he was ready to get even bigger muscles.

Once Aiden was only in his boxer briefs, he gently pushed Liam to make him fall on the couch and then sat by his side, pulling the boxes of desserts closer. Each box contained different types of desserts, all of which Liam had already seen. It seemed like Aiden had a plan, and even though Liam wasn’t sure what the plan was, he knew that whatever it was, it would be lots of fun.

Aiden grabbed Liam’s hands and slowly pulled them to his thick muscular pecs, leaving Liam on the verge of suffering a stroke. “This is all your handy work, and you’re about to continue it. I bought all these desserts but didn’t ask what they were for. The huge guys at the bakery shop told me I had to be careful, but who cares about what they say?” Aiden said, placing one of the boxes on Liam’s lap next to his hard dick. “Go on. You said you were not stopping anytime soon. Well, now you have my permission to keep going.” Aiden bounced his pecs, and the motion under Liam’s hands was so incredible that Liam’s dick released some drops of pre even though he had just cum a few minutes before.

Liam was out of his mind, so he immediately grabbed what looked like a granola bar, popping it in Aiden’s mouth without considering the possible effects of it. Aiden chewed as if his life depended on it. Right after he had swallowed, his mouth was full again with a slice of a delicious-looking vanilla cake. Aiden moaned while Liam kept feeding him dessert after dessert, not giving him time to process one flavor or sensation before the next sweet filled his mouth. Aiden knew Liam wanted to grow him huge, and the trainer was willing to allow it. Liam was almost desperate to feed Aiden as many desserts as possible.

Both guys lost track of time, and not long after Aiden’s arrival, the three boxes of desserts were empty. Aiden was catching his breath after an intense and nonstop feeding session. Liam was smiling while his hands explored the curvatures of Aiden’s bulging muscles, waiting for the effects of the desserts to kick in. Liam wasn’t rational at this point, and he only cared about seeing Aiden blow up like a muscle balloon.

“I didn’t know you were that much into me. I like this. I think I can get used to you worshiping me like this,” Aiden said, raising his arms to flex his massive biceps, which ballooned right before their eyes to bigger than Aiden’s head in a blink. “Oh fuck, yes, yes. I love how that feels,” said Aiden, as Liam’s hands massaged the huge biceps that had just grown.

“Fuck, you look fantastic. I won’t be able to go back to the gym tomorrow. I won’t be able to focus on the workout if you’re there,” Liam said, making Aiden chuckle.

“Liam, we don’t need to go back to the gym considering what these desserts can do,” Aiden said as he felt his deltoids expanding, his triceps and biceps thickening.

Liam smiled and quickly moved his body to sit on Aiden’s lap. He started massaging the magnificent pecs that hypnotically moved while Aiden kept flexing his arms. Liam could feel Aiden’s hard dick beneath him, and it felt big. Aiden’s bulge looked full, considering the bull balls Liam had seen before. While he massaged Aiden’s pecs, Liam felt the big guy’s bulge growing against his ass and taking the strained boxer briefs to their limits.

Aiden loudly moaned when the fabric of his boxers finally gave up, and his dick burst out of them, feeling harder than ever before. His balls also came out and pressed against his inner thighs, feeling ready to explode. From Liam’s position, he immediately realized Aiden’s underwear had exploded because it wasn’t able to contain the big guy’s growing dick and balls. Liam didn’t know the desserts could affect the dick size, but he felt Aiden’s dick lengthening and getting much thicker with each heartbeat.

All along, Aiden moaned, and his body expanded in all directions. His massive pecs grew, his shoulders broadened, his thighs surpassed ‘tree-trunk proportions’ in an instant, and everything continued expanding before Liam’s eyes.

...

[sunshinegat0r]

I’ve had a song stuck in my head all week, can you guess which one? Also Eustass Kid is so fucking fun to write, what the heck! Modern AU, established relationship, just thought it’d be nice to see him as obsessed with reader as I am with him. 🙃

Perfect ~ Eustass Kid x F!Reader

CW: Swearing, brief mentions of sex acts (masturbation, grinding), nothing too exciting.

WC: ~1.2k

“What’re you doin’?”

You glance over your shoulder and unfold your torso, pulling up the large boxer-briefs patterned with cartoon nuts and bolts. You release the waistband with a flourish and let the elastic snap against your hips with a smirk.

“I feel more comfortable with something on, and-” you glance around the semi-chaotic state of the bedroom, “-I have no idea where my underwear even are.”

“I ripped ‘em off ya.”

“Eustass!” you chide, no real heat behind the words. “I liked that pair!”

The red-head shrugs with a big grin and tucks his arm behind his head, propped against the headboard of his giant-sized bed. He has to admit it’s a nice view, watching you move around his room topless and wearing his clothes.

“Why’re you leavin’ me all alone over here?” Kid sulks.

You move to the desk in the corner, dragging over a small desktop mirror and some makeup wipes. “Some of us have things to do this afternoon and can’t stay in bed all day fucking.” Kid tsks at that - you know he could keep you trapped in his bed if he really wanted to.

“And as much as I love your, uh, art, I don’t think my boss would appreciate it nearly enough,” you tease, peering at your body in the mirror.

Reddish-purple lipstick is smeared all over your skin. While there are rare spots that form a perfect set of lips, it’s mostly lines of color, left from where Eustass Kid dragged his lips along your body as he ravished you. Your lips and neck suffered the most attention, but you blush as you notice the prominent amount concentrated on your breasts, and the trail down your stomach leading in between your legs.

You turn the mirror to meet Kid’s gaze behind you and find he has the most insufferable grin on his face. Truly caught red-handed - or red-lipped - his own mouth is anything but neat and tidy.

You roll your eyes, a soft smile lifting your lips, and adjust the mirror back towards yourself, grabbing a wipe to start removing the evidence. You don’t bother taking a seat at the desk, you just lean over and get to work.

As he watches you with sharp golden eyes, Kid’s smile slips slowly from his face. The gears in his head are spinning fast enough he’s surprised you can’t hear him thinking.

He’s fucked.

Well, technically you both were - he’d made sure of that thoroughly - but he’s in real trouble here.

He can’t tear his eyes off of you. You look so perfect standing there in his underwear, with his marks decorating your pretty skin like the finest museum-worthy art piece. It’s not an unfamiliar sight - the two of you had been dancing this tango for months now. Neither of you wanted to put any labels on it. For Kid, at first it had been a fun distraction from the regular bullshit of living.

Now, thoughts of you distracted him from every other aspect of his life. You were the first thing on his mind when he woke up, checking his beat-up phone for a text from you (since you were usually up hours before him). No matter what his day consisted of, even in the palace of his workshop, it was plagued by thoughts of you. And at night, when he couldn’t sleep for tossing and turning, your eyes, your smile, your body, consumed him as he tugged his aching cock, desperate for your touch to wear him out.

It was safe to say Kid was a bit obsessed, which was new territory for him. But as he watched you, all soft curves and graceful limbs, humming tunelessly and tapping your foot a little, he knew. All he ever really wanted was you.

You straighten from the desk and give yourself a final once-over in the mirror, satisfied with your work. You haven’t bothered cleaning up the marks below your neck - the collar of your shirt will hide all of that.

And besides, you… Kind of like the idea of walking around with Kid’s claims burning on your skin, with no one else the wiser. The thought brings a warm flush to your cheeks and you turn sheepishly towards the bed.

You’re surprised out of your own embarrassing thoughts by the sight of Kid looking just as flustered. Briefly you wonder if he knew what you intended by leaving yourself in such a state. His large hand is covering his eyes but it’s not enough to hide the blush bathing his own cheeks and tips of his ears, bright red against his pale skin.

Padding softly over to the side of the bed where he’s reclining, you lean in and blow a gentle puff of air into his ear. Kid jumps and swears, staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s enough to make you giggle; you’ve never seen his feathers look so ruffled.

“Penny for your thoughts, babe?” The question is dripping with false innocence as you walk your fingers up his arm.

Kid scowls and looks away, twists his arm to grab your wandering hand with his own. You yelp when he tugs you back into his lap and you settle, straddling him. You’re suddenly glad for his underwear; flimsy barrier though it may be, anything to give you a chance not to be lured back into his clutches.

Eustass Kid was never one to back down from a challenge and he’s not about to start now. Despite the heat still painting his face he manages to pin you with his golden gaze. His mouth works for a few moments before he forces the words out through clenched teeth.

“Just… Realized how much ya mean to me. How - whenever I think about what I want, you’re top of th’ list. By leagues.”

Your eyes widen and you feel like you could melt straight through the bed, the floor, into the earth below. You thought your face was on fire before - now it’s your turn to cover it with your hands.

At least, you try, but Kid has a firm grip on your left hand and he’s not letting go to save you any dignity. If anything, your reaction seems to have given him some of his cocky swagger back.

He snickers at your distress and gathers both of your hands into his large one, raising your arms above your head and leering at you like a fresh-caught prize. “What’s wrong, treasure?” he coos ominously. “Can’t handle a little sincerity?”

You shake your head and let out a surprised gasp when he pulls you against his chest, his mouth immediately back on your neck and undoing all your hard work. “Only you could turn such an embarrassing confession to your favORRrr,” you mutter, a particularly hard nip turning the last syllable into a quaking moan.

You feel an inescapable hardness growing through your stolen underwear. A secret smile spreads across your lips and you arch against Kid’s chest, grinding your hips down and wrenching a garbled curse from him against your skin.

You were definitely going to be late for work.

Tag List: @zoros-sheath @quinloki (Your pinned post says to tag you in any Kid stuff so here I am hello goodbye 🫣)

[bitterbetabunny]

Hypnovember 10 - Professor

Writing from @jammed-out ‘s prompt list

CW: blow job, CNC, implied age gap/power imbalance,

“Personally, I’ve never thought of ‘cocksucker’ as a great insult,” Jamie said, leaning back on their professor’s desk.

Professor Green was down on his knees, wearing nothing but his blue boxer briefs, grey socks, and sock guards. His pants, jacket, shirt, undershirt, and several pieces of jewelry lay haphazardly across a chair in the corner. His tie, covered in little strawberries, was wrapped around his eyes, blindfolding him. His hands drew little circles on the tops of his bare thighs.

“You revere the queer and taboo, i imagine most traditional insults are more likely to be used as compliments in your personal vernacular,” Professor Green responded, head turned towards them but not quite facing them.

“Yeah, but… cocksucker,” Jamie repeated. “It doesn’t feel… like it has any kick. There’s no sting.”

“For some, the implication that they would ever engage in a homoerotic act would be sting enough.”

“I know,” Jamie snapped, rolling their eyes. “But there’s no art to it being used as an insult like that.”

Jamie grabbed a nearby bottle and poured some flavored lube into their hand, as they stood up, they set the bottle aside and worked the lube up and down the strap between their legs. They were still fully dressed, with the harness in place over their pants.

Professor Green straightened his back and swallowed, hearing Jamie’s footsteps get closer. He fought the urge to open his mouth while he waited.

Instead he said, “We always seem to end up on that question: who gets to decide what’s art?”

Jamie rolled their eyes and they used a paper towel to wipe the excess lube off their hand. “Don’t get boring.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “Perhaps you’d rather elucidate me on all the ways the word ‘cocksucker’ is better put to use.”

Jamie walked over until they stood barely a foot away from their professor. They swiveled their hips slightly to watch their cock bob right in front of Professor Green. The older man showed no reaction, unable to see the teasing.

“Why don’t you show me what a good cocksucker can do?” Jamie asked, stepping closer and setting his hand on Professor Green’s head.

Their professor opened his mouth dutifully, the head of the cock smearing lube on his cheek until he corrected his angle and took it into his mouth. He suckled and slowly moved his head, grateful for the sweetness of the flavored lube.

“Yeah, can never get enough of this view,” Jamie mused. They thrusted forward experimentally and was rewarded with a choked moan.

They settled into a rhythm, Jamie gripping their professors head more and more as the cock disappeared into his throat. The sensation wasn’t entirely pleasant for the older man, but Professor Green could tell his skills were improving; he could take it deeper for longer, for sure. Deepthroating for too long could still make his stomach turn and he worried someone would notice that his throat was always sore, but…

But…

There was a spot at the back of his throat he could only reach with his biggest toys, that he could only reach when Jamie was really fucking his throat. There was a spot his student hit that made his mind go white.

Jamie’s hands gripped his hair and the next thrust pushed past the usual barrier and sunk into his throat.

Professor Green’s legs spread wider as he shook with arousal.

“There we go, cocksucker,” Jaime hummed, holding their professor close for a beat before letting him pull back to breathe.

The older man hardly took a breath before he was working his mouth back and forth on the cock again. He moaned.

Jaime let their professor set the pace for now, content to watch him chase that high that only Jaime could provide. When they’d started conditioning their professor, Jamie hadn’t expected it to become a regular thing, but now that his brain was so easy to switch off, Jamie had to admit he’d fantasized about this exact scenario. Seeing Professor Green’s own cock hardening in his boxers, Jamie grabbed the older man and took over, keeping an eye on the tent in Professor Green’s tent to see how long it would take him to cum.

[princelylove]

OMG Your Highness Fugo canonically wears a thong!! i can't believe it nbjdukjdsnf i just read it and was like huh? 😭 i searched it and it is truee

Pannacotta wearing a thong has always made total sense to me for his character, and for his design. You don’t wear cut-outs riiiiight below your belt and wear briefs with them, you’d be showing the world whatever pattern you chose this morning. 

What about the rest of Team Bucciarati's underwear, though?

I’m very big on ‘fem Giorno is canon and the cast just doesn’t realize it,’ although I’ve only publicly written for masc Giorno, which is a shame. Giorno is the type of girl whose bra always matches her underwear, she normally buys sets or pairs that match her bras. Her bras are wired, without padding, lord knows she doesn't need it. (DIO's genes wouldn't allow for a small chest, even if Giorno's ballet experience has made her thin, they're still There, just not absurdly big either.) The patterns are usually- you guessed it- roses and solid pale pinks or whites. Her underwear is just as ornate and delicate as you’d think- tons of lace, lots of bows, and a feeling like you're about to sell your soul if you remove them.

You can see the band of Guido's underwear when he stretches. He normally alternates between boxers and tight fitting trunks. Guido is the type of guy to be in absolute heaven if his fem darling were to give him her underwear- he'd wear them. It's like a special secret, and you're touching, even if it's not direct.... He's such a simple man. Guido normally buys high end clothes (my source is the very same interview that this anon cited, but I can link it as necessary), his philosophy naturally extends to his underwear. As for patterns, solid grey and black are fine, but he likes a little animal print too.

Trish is a victoria’s secret kinda girl, although she has some dolce & gabbana lingerie that she deeply treasures, and often wears as regular tops. Either Trish canonically wears push up bras, or Guido mistook her sizing whatever other bra she had on down for a push up, because of the tightness. Guido is not a reliable source, but I'm going to say that she likes push up bras because it's a very classic victoria's secret choice. As for her underwear, she probably favors bikini cuts or brazilians. She likes animal prints, stripes, and underwear with words on it. A pair with 'EAT ME' on the front is her favorite.

Narancia wears loose, non-clingy trunks. He gets upset if you tease him for wearing 'short' underwear, but doesn't exactly stop. Narancia likes breathable underwear, which is ironic, considering he prefers his tops to be tight fitting. He likes silly patterns, but he doesn't realize it doesn't come off as super mature. His favorite is a pair with cookies and crumbs on it. Narancia isn't the type to hand wash his delicates, he just throws them into the wash regardless of their material.

Leone either wears clingy trunks or trunk briefs. I'm not sure if that's the proper name for it, but I mean the one that looks like women's hipsters. He's fond of compression underwear, just without padding. He's got too much pride for padding, and doesn't really need it. Leone likes a little bit of lace on his hips, but finds it annoying to have them on his legs. Most of his underwear is pure black, but some of them have white lace instead. A few pairs have veeeery small ribbons on them in the front, with little charms on it. Yes, the charms are normally a small, metal 'A.'

Bruno is the type to switch between women's lingerie and very basic men's boxer briefs, depending on what he's going to do that day. For the women's lingerie, he likely prefers cheeky underwear or just thongs, as long as they're similar to the tattoo on his chest. For the boxer briefs, he prefers clingy types that go to his mid thigh. He wears the thongs significantly more than the boxer briefs.

[infiniteeight8]

#2, Random: 73. “I’m not wearing a dress.” (from https://www.tumblr.com/winterhawkkisses/187435901065/drabble-challenge)

(This is out of drabble territory and straight into a ficlet, because once the mental image hit me there was no keeping this to 100 words.)

-

“I’m not wearing a dress,” Stephen snapped, shoving the hangar back at Tony.

Tony just smirked. “I won, you lost. This is the forfeit.” He held out the hanger again. “I’m not asking you to go out in it. Just model it for me.”

Stephen scowled and took it. He knew exactly why Tony wanted him to model it. They’d been playing a power game since the day they met. The banter, the bets. Tony was one up on him now, and trying to push his lead. But if Stephen refused, Tony would win even harder.

When he took the dress off the hanger, he discovered a garter belt and stockings had also been provided. Stephen took a long look at them and then smirked. 

The dress was a classic little black dress. It was sleeveless and form fitting. It was also probably meant to hit mid-thigh, but Stephen was taller and longer in the body than most—on him, it barely covered the curve of his ass. The stockings and garters went on easily, elastic enough to accommodate his long legs. 

No underwear had been provided. Stephen wondered if Tony meant for him to do without, or if the incongruous combination of his boxer briefs with the outfit was intended as another power play. He chose option three: transmuting his regular underthings into a bright red pair of satin panties. They went on over the garters, the better to remove them while leaving the stockings in place. Stephen was sure Tony would recognize that detail.

When Stephen opened the bathroom door, he posed deliberately, hands resting on the frame, one hip cocked, the little black dress riding up just enough to show Tony a flash of red. 

When Tony saw Stephen his jaw dropped, the triumphant smirk falling off his face. His eyes swept over Stephen, head to toe and back again. They caught on the hint of red. A flush darkened his cheeks. 

Stephen felt almost breathless with triumph and power and unanticipated delight at the way Tony couldn’t take his eyes off him. 

This game was going to be a lot more fun than the one they’d been playing.

- (If any artist wants to bring this Stephen to life I will love you forever.)

[spicysagittarius]

MJ comes home after a really frustrating day, but thankfully, her best friend and roommate Peter knows exactly what she needs to relax 😏

This one's a little long, apologies!

“And then..oh, fuck, Pete, get this, then he said that Marcus wasn’t gonna get marked down, because it wasn’t him who’d dealt with the customer, even though she’s his regular and his mistake! I mean, how fucking ridiculous is that, right?” MJ groans, her head in Peter’s pillow as he rubs her shoulders. 

“So ridiculous,” he muses. He really, really wishes he could focus right now, because it’s totally invalidating and rude not to, but…she’s wearing those shorts again. The ones made of thin cotton, the ones that don’t exactly cover her ass, and he’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood with how much he’s trying to steer his focus away from it. He’s seen these shorts plenty of times; they do live together. He’s just never seen them this up close before. Just a brush of his hand away…

No. He can’t. And if he doesn’t manage to act normal right now, she’s gonna notice he’s…

“Peter?” Shit. She’s stopped ranting. He’s such a goddamn perv. Not to mention an awful best friend. 

“What? Oh, sorry.” He tries to laugh it off casually, resuming his motions on her upper back. After a few seconds, he can tell he’s hit a point of tension because she fucking whimpers. The noise almost makes him jump. His cock throbs unfairly in his boxer briefs. 

“Fuck, that’s so good…” MJ mumbles. He wants to hear that sound again. 

He manages to shut the logical side of his brain off, no matter how stupid that might end up being, he doesn’t care. He’s just…he needs to…

Carefully, he shifts his hands a little lower and rubs deeply into her tense muscles near her spine. She sighs. “Pete, can you get under my shirt?” What? But before he has time to react, she’s reaching behind her to pull the bottom hem of her t-shirt up, up, all the way to her shoulder blades until the bare skin of her back is revealed to him. In plain sight. Oh, he could so die right now. 

“Uh…yep. Yes. I can.” And then he’s touching bare Michelle skin and she’s mewling again and he might be totally off and literally such a pervert but he swears he can smell her? What else could that be? It’s not her perfume, or either of their sweat, or the lavender candle she’s lit in the kitchen past his bedroom door. No, it’s her. He can just tell. And she’s…she’s wet.

“Lower. Go lower.” It’s a sigh that falls from her lips and he doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. But even still, he manages to move his hands until they’re gripping her bare hips, just above the waistband of those fucking shorts. 

And that’s when she startles him even more by saying: “Shit, I’m so turned on.” He hears her exhale in a laugh. “That’s normal, right? Sorry to make it weird.”

“No, no, not at all, that’s…that’s normal. I think.” He breathes, hoping he sounded convincing. 

She turns her head to the side to meet his eyes. “Okay.” Her eyes remain on his as he continues his movements, even when she moans again and curses under her breath, she never breaks eye contact. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. The tension is so thick he feels suffocated, but maybe…maybe, he doesn’t mind. 

Yeah, he definitely doesn’t mind, he decides about five minutes later when the shorts have been flung across the room and he’s slipping his fingers into her lacy panties to find that she’s just as wet as he figured. His spidey senses haven’t failed him yet. Michelle’s whining and spreading her legs even wider for him, grazing her hand across the tent in his gym shorts. 

He’s even more sure of it when, another five minutes later, she’s tightening around his fingers as she falls off the edge, sobbing his name in release. 

He doesn’t give her much time to recover. He should feel bad, and maybe he would, if she didn’t smell so fucking sweet, if he wasn’t aching with the need to taste her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s really sorry. 

But most of him is just focused on yanking her panties to the side and burying his face between her legs, revelling in her shocked squeal and shuddering moan when he sucks her clit into his mouth. Between whimpers, she manages an amused, “Well, this is one way to…fuck..to destress.” 

She’s goddamn right. And it’s decidedly the most effective. 

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | ONE

a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©

SUMMARY: with sarah out of the house, the only sibling that wheezie has to ask to cover for her sneaking out is rafe.. except all ends of their deal goes flying out the window when rafe finds out the party wheezie wants to go to is being thrown on the cut. what started out as an argument soon turned into a confessional as both rafe and wheezie rat each other out, his ‘pogue girlfriend’ included..

WARNINGS: suggestive conversation, dirty talk, illusions to phone sex, sibling argument, rafe being overprotective of wheezie, brief mention of sobriety, ward and rafe arguing, ward is so mean, rafe defending you <3

LINKS: series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

“what are you wearing right now?” you giggled at rafe’s words, his voice always sounding more raspier on the phone. “are you really trying to have phone sex at..” you glanced at the time on your screen, “eleven o’clock at night?” rafe hummed, looking at his door to make sure it was locked. phone sex had become a regular occurrence between you two, especially since rafe couldn’t stay the night with you the way he wanted.

“hell yeah, baby. these are prime time hours.” your cheeks heated as you trailed your hand down your torso. “i don’t know why i still get so shy..” you breathed out, your fingers teasing the wasitband of your panties the same way rafe’s did when he had you all to himself. “yeah? ‘still get shy when i tell you to touch yourself?” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, letting out a soft moan when you traced your folds, your slick making your digits glide easily over your skin.

“i’m so wet, rafe..” your boyfriend groaned, his cock stirring in his pants. “let me hear it.” just as rafe was going to slip his own hand in his boxers, there was a knock at his door. “rafe? open up, it’s wheeze.” you could hear wheezie’s voice on the other end of the line. “what do you want?!” rafe called out, trying to think of what was so important that his little sister just had to interrupt him right now.

“will you shut up!? let me in, it’s important..” rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply through his flared nostrils. “babe?” he took you off speaker, “hey, i gotta call it a night. i promise to make it up to you when i see you tomorrow, okay?” you pouted even though he couldn’t see you. “okayyy, i love you.” rafe smiled to himself, his heart blooming in his chest every time he heard those words fall from your lips.

“i love you more, sweetheart. i’ll see you soon.” rafe always kept the phone to his ear until you hung up, his smile dropping when the call ended. “dude, open the door!” wheezie rattled the door knob, making rafe shoot up to his feet. “what?!” rafe whispered, letting her in. wheezie crossed her arms, an uneasy look on her face as she took a seat at the edge of rafe’s bed. “look, i need a favor.” rafe poked his head out of his door, making sure his dad wasn’t around before shutting it closed.

taking a moment to look at his sister, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he examined her outfit. “why are you wearing a dress this late?” wheezie’s cheeks turned pink at his question, “and the makeup? where do you think you’re going?” she waved him off, adjusting her glasses before she got to explaining. “okay, just hear me out alright?” rafe was already against anything she was going to ask of him.

“my best friend gracie got invited to a party by this guy she’s been talking to, and she wants me to go with her. i’ll just be there as like—” rafe cut her off, laughing at her words, “you want me to cover for you so you could go be a third wheel?” wheezie rolled her eyes. “you didn’t even let me finish.” shaking his head, rafe started pacing back and forth.

to be fair, wheezie was already fourteen years old, she was bound to start going to parties and actually having a social life sooner or later, rafe just hated that the time was finally here. “..well finish!” he urged. “i’ll just be there with her since i’ll be the only person she knows, okay? that’s it. no drinking, no smoking, no.. you know..” rafe covered his ears, his face twisting into a grimace. “if you mention anything about boys i will actually throw up, wheeze, please.” she laughed, accidentally snorting before her hand shot up to cover her mouth.

“seriously rafe, can you please just cover for me? dad is already asleep.. i think..” rafe thought for a moment. “you can’t tell me you weren’t sneaking out when you were my age,” she added, “you’re the only person who can do this for me now that sarah is away for college.” wheezie sighed. rafe felt bad to say the least. what would be the harm in letting her go out with a friend of her’s? “okay, look,” rafe took a seat next to her, “if i do this for you, you need to do something for me in return.” wheezie nodded frantically.

“anything, shoot.” rafe knew she wasn’t gonna like this, but he really needed the favor. “i got some business to take care of on friday, and i need you to answer dad’s work phone while i do that.” wheezie scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “you’re joking, right?” unbelievable, rafe wanted to say. “wheezie i’m asking you to answer a phone, alright? if you can’t do that then you could forget about this whole thing.” she stopped rafe before he could open his door to let her leave.

“but friday of all days?! how about a thursday?” wheezie looked hopeful as her brother pretended to think. “how about no?” the smile she had on her face disappeared, her hands flying in the air. “fine, fine! i’ll take dad’s calls on friday..” she grumbled, taking her phone out of her dress pocket, “i’ll text gracie and tell her you’ll take us.” at this, rafe’s head shot up in her direction. “woah, hold on, you didn’t say anything about me being your driver.” he shook his head.

“are you serious?! did you think we were just gonna walk all the way to the cut?” she laughed. rafe paused when the words “the cut” fell from his little sister’s mouth. no fucking way he’d let her go to a party on that side of the island, who knows what kind of people she’d be around? rafe felt his skin growing hot, his eyebrows pinching together as he snatched her phone out of her hands. “what the—” “what did you just say? walk where?” wheezie blinked.

“the cut..” rafe’s jaw ticked as he pocketed her phone. “you’re dumb if you think i’m gonna let you go over there. a party on the cut, really? are you on drugs or something?” wheezie scoffed, “are you on drugs?” she shot back. rafe probably shouldn’t have asked her that knowing it was too easy for her to rebuttal. “smart ass.” he scoffed. “what kind of asshole invited your friend to a party on the cut? even the boneyard would be better than that dump.” wheezie looked furious as she rolled her eyes.

“what? so now you’re not gonna cover for me?” rafe looked at her incredulously. “are you really asking me that, wheeze? fuck no, i’m not covering for you!” he tossed her phone on the bed. “tell your friend she’s going by herself. i can’t believe you thought i’d drive you to the cut. you’ve never even been around pogues before!” wheezie’s eyes widened as she heard the faint click of a door down the hallway.

“shut up before dad hears you, you psycho!” she whispered, shoving her brother against the wall. rafe groaned, both of their heads shooting up as ward opened the door. “what the hell is going on in here?!” his eyes darted between the two of them. “why are you wearing a dress? and— ‘the hell.. are you wearing makeup?” ward pointed a finger. “she was trying to sneak out to a party on the cut! her and gracie in a house full of pogues, ain’t that some shit?”

with tears now pricking her eyes, wheezie couldn’t believe rafe just told on her. “a party on the cut? do you even know how rowdy those kids get?! you’re fourteen!” ward was shouting with rafe by his side, both of them adding onto their statements until wheezie finally snapped. “i don’t know why rafe is making such a big deal about me wanting to go on the other side of the island, he’s the one who spends most of his time there with his pogue girlfriend!”

the room went silent. rafe was sure both his dad and sister could hear his heart drop to his stomach. “what?” now it was rafe’s turn to be glared at. “what is she talking about?” sniffling, wheezie felt like she made a mistake even though rafe was the one who ratted her out first. rafe blinked, not knowing what to say. “go to your room, wheeze, i’m not finished with you yet.” ward said through gritted teeth. she ran out of there like she thought he’d never ask, the tension heavy now that rafe’s secret was out in the open.

“what is she talking about?” ward repeated, “is that where you run off to after you’re done with work here? the cut?” rafe swallowed thickly. “dad—” ward was hoping, praying, that what wheezie said was just something she spewed out of anger. “just answer my question, son.” he shut the door. despite how calm ward was acting right now, rafe knew he was going to lose his cool as soon as he confirmed what his dad didn’t want to hear.

rafe figured if he lied about you two being together you two can carry on with what you currently had, but a large part of him wanted to take things a step further and actually have you close without worrying about being caught. he was tired of looking over his shoulder every time you two were out, he was sick of loving you in private out of worry that his dad would make things complicated for you. word about your relationship had already spread around the island, and it was only a matter of time before ward found out himself.

“yes. i have a girlfriend that lives on the cut, she’s a pogue.” ward sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “come on, rafe,” he laughed bitterly, “you know that’ll never work out, right?” he screwed his eyes shut. “we’re supposed to be moving forward here, not backwards..” rafe’s jaw ticked. he shouldn’t have expected ward to approve right away, but he didn’t expect him to deem your relationship a lost cause either.

“well it’s been working for the last four months,” rafe said matter-of-factly, “we’ve been doing great.” ward shook his head, finally looking up at his son. “oh, is that right?” he nodded, “let me guess, she empty out those pockets of yours? ��use you for all that you’re good for?” rafe couldn’t believe the words coming out of his father’s mouth. “all that i’m good for?” he repeated, “you think she’s using me for my money?” rafe was blown away, the accusation sounding flat out crazy.

“yeah, you’re basically a walking piggy bank, rafe. you’re her only ticket out of that place, of course she’s going to cling to you like her life depends on it.. because it does.” rafe sat down in the chair furthest from his father. “you couldn’t be more wrong about her.” he scoffed. ward looked like his mind was running a million miles per minute. “rafe, those pogue girls are all the same,” he stepped up, rafe putting a hand up for him not to get any closer, “they just want one thing, son, and it’s not your heart.”

“y/n has never asked me for anything. she insists on working two jobs even after i told her she doesn’t need to. you don’t know anything about her, and i bet after having a conversation with her, you’ll know she’s nothing like the way you’re perceiving her right now.” he stood up, his hands waving in the air as he spoke. “she’s done more for me than i can ever pay her back for, and i say that wholeheartedly. she’s kind, selfless, gentle.. the list could go on, dad.”

ward couldn’t describe the feeling he had in his chest right now. sadness, anger, fear, resentment? he had no clue. “i’m not going to listen to this nonsense. what you need to do is get a grip on reality and see things for what they really are. i mean, gosh, rafe! this girl has really manipulated you into thinking she loves you.” rafe didn’t take a word his dad was saying seriously. he knew you loved him, and to him that’s all that mattered. “i love her.” ward froze, his eyes widening slightly.

“love?” he scoffed, “you don’t even know what that is!” ward shouted, “you can’t love anyone! you’re selfish rafe, you know that?” of course rafe knew that, how could he forget when he had ward reminding him of that every chance he got. “stop it,” he shook his head, “you don’t know her.” ward studied his son for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he took a breath.

“i’ll tell you what, rafe,” he walked over to the door, “i’ll hear you out this one time, but one time is all you get. invite her over for dinner, and i’ll tell you if whether or not she’s worth going through all this trouble for.” ward left, slamming the door shut behind him. there was no winning when it came to ward, he made sure of that. you would come over for dinner and ward wouldn’t change his mind, rafe knew that’s how it would go down. then again, he felt like if he didn’t bring you over for at least a conversation, this would all have been for nothing.

taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @archiveofvirtue @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @ankoluvly @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine @maybankslover @ilovefiction4lmen @rafesfavouritegirl @katekells @winnie1emon @sexysadie23

[mpregstory]

IT’S NOT TIME YET

(commission for a friend)

- I was inspired to write this but after leaving it a few days I wasn’t motivated anymore to end this. The Idea was cute, but I don’t feel like keep writing at this story.

I feel his hands travel down my back and then down my hips forward under my huge belly as I lean on the kitchen counter. I can feel the bottom baby pressing against my pelvis. While a massive contraction is going over me, he carefully grabs my full stomach and slowly lifts it to take this load off me for a short moment. While Jack, my boyfriend, is doing this, he kisses my neck and then slowly puts the weight back on me.

„I heard that should help. As long as it doesn't get worse, we won't do anything for now, do you understand me? There's still a few days of vacation and you agreed to come with me so I don't have to cancel it with my friends and not so you can give birth to our twins, yes?“

His hands slowly traveled up around my stomach until they pulled over my chest and he then grabbed my neck with them. I give a slight moan from me. He's right. We are here for a guys vacation. To party. To celebrate.

„It’s not time yet“ he whispers into my right ear before biting my earlobe lightly.

After I confirm this with a nod, he takes his hands off me and walks to my left through the large glass door which leads to the pool and his friends, who are already waiting for us with backpacks and other beach stuff. What I haven't told Jack, however, is that these contractions have been regular since yesterday morning. But he's right. I can't show any weakness now. The twins won't come until we're back home. I just take a step out the door and immediately notice the hot sun hitting me. It's a super hot day. I wear boxer briefs that fit tight on me. Jack said yesterday that would be totally sexy.

The beach is super crowded. there are people all around us and when my friend is playing volleyball, david, one of our friends, comes over to me and sits on my couch while i'm still struggling with the contractions. He sits to my right and circles his hand over my swollen baby bump.

"Hey I need to talk to you because with you I know I can trust you."

I take a deep breath and say, "Sure, go ahead.“

„I found out last week that I'm pregnant too. Four months aleady haha. I think I'll tell everyone after the holiday." I noticed that David has gained some weight in the abdominal area. I could already imagine something like that. I thank him for his trust and he goes back to all friends. I can't play volleyball anymore.

[tumbleassbitch]

another lost soul (letting my instinct take control) The Quarry | TravisxLaura

Characters: Laura Kearney, Travis Hackett, The Hackett family Summary: Max dies in the cellar. This changes everything.

Chapter 12/? | Chapter 11 | Chapter 1

To one man it may bring him death, but another measure should spare his neck.

Laura glares at the scrawled line with enough force to weaken a grown man. Measure of what, exactly? Why didn’t the author write it down?

They spent effort to make it rhyme, and yet they left out the most important part. Somebody’s priorities were skewed, she thinks cynically. At this point, she’s read it enough times for the poem to forever wallpaper the insides of her eyelids.

She leans back, releasing a few much-needed pops in her spine, and takes in the dimly lit room. The light outside has long-since faded into the dull reds of sunset. A sci-fi movie drones softly  on the small screen TV, just loud enough to dispel any disconcerting silence. 

Travis has completely taken over the only desk in the motel room, though to his credit, it’s not like there was much space to begin with. They’ve been cooped up in here for hours. 

It’s been an afternoon of unbiased, old-fashioned academia, and the familiar dynamic has been enough to quell her restlessness until now. The study material doesn’t quite match with her college courses, though.

(“Arsenic,” Laura declared proudly.

Travis didn’t miss a beat. “Tried that.” In the weighted silence that followed, he added softer, “I know some… desperate people.”)

It’s easily the strangest study group she’s ever been a part of.

The call from the mechanic shop comes once the hours have bled into the evening, and she blearily watches Travis snap to attention.

“This is Sheriff Hackett with North Kill County.” His expression darkens. “Are you sure? … I appreciate it. Have a good night.”

“How long?” Laura asks when he hangs up.

“Tomorrow, sometime mid-morning.” He stares grimly at the dark screen of his phone. “Some of the parts apparently look like they’ve been fried, and there aren’t any replacements in stock.”

Travis rubs a hand down his face before slapping the desk, standing up briskly in one smooth motion. Laura watches with feigned disinterest as he starts to undo his tie before he pauses, shooting her a withering look. Suddenly, her notes are fascinating to look at.

Awkward, she can’t help but hiss internally. Why is everything so fucking awkward with him?

He silently disappears into the bathroom, coming back out in a faded dark flannel with a black undershirt peeking out from under the collar. Everything about him looks… normal. Like a regular guy. 

It shouldn’t be such a profound realization, especially given his lackluster entrance and impatient scowl, but she’s so used to seeing the uniform that trying to picture him in civilian clothes was nigh impossible. 

That is, until she was attacked by a ghost in the bathroom and discovered that he wears boxer-briefs.

“Let’s go,” he announces.

“Um… where?” She blinks as he puts on his holster with practiced ease and plucks the shotgun from its place by the chair.

“Outside. We’re going shooting.”

She casts a passive look out the window. “I’ve got more than enough practice.” 

The last time she shot a gun was years ago, and though something deep and wild within her uncurls at the idea, it’s barely an effort to force it back into its cage. It’s been years for a reason.

 He must sense her trepidation, because he doubles down with confidence.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem,” he says matter-of-factly. “Let me see what you’re working with.”

“...Do you ever hear yourself?”

He rolls his eyes, pursing his lips. “Knock it off. If you’re so dead-set on wasting your life over a manhunt, show me you know how to at least hit a target.”

The absolute last thing she wants to do is traipse around in the dark woods under some guise of “proving herself,” but what’s the alternative? Put on jammies and watch a few reruns of the Twilight Zone together before bedtime?

“Fine,” she says unhappily.

“Your shoes aren’t on,” he points out unnecessarily.

With an eye roll, Laura slips on her sneakers and follows him outside. The summer night still holds a hint of the day’s earlier warmth, though it will likely soon be leached away by the clear skies.

He leads them out to the edge of the woods, and even without a flashlight, it’s easy to tell the thicket isn’t nearly as dense as North Kill’s. Only once they’re well past the tree line does Travis flip on his light. The beam casts long stalks of shadows, catching motes of pollen and thin dust between the trees.

“Won’t someone report the gunshots?” she asks. Goosebumps trail along her arms.

“Gunfire is common in this area.” The forest floor crunches under their shoes. “Doesn’t matter the season; everybody in Lincoln hunts.”

“Let me guess, loons?”

She can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m afraid those are endangered, ma’am.”

“Ah. What are we shooting, then?”

They enter a gap in the trees, and Travis stops, pulling out his notepad. He rips off a few pages. “These.”

He walks off, and the light bobs with each time he wedges a paper in the bark of the trees. When he comes back, the targets gleam faintly in the far-off gloom.

“Silas’ skin reflects the moonlight. If you’re lucky, you’ll have enough of a warning to catch a glimpse of him before he sees you. We only hunt while covered in werewolf blood, so while he won’t kill you, he’ll definitely keep out of sight.”

“Other werewolves blend into the dark, but they’re not as fast or large. They’re usually slick with blood after a transformation. If it’s a clear night, the light will catch on their movements.”

He hands her the gun and flashlight and steps off to the side. “Go ahead.”

Laura pulls the trigger.

The force of the gun reverberates through her body like a live wire, and she leans into the feeling. The first target is reduced to detritus.

“Good—” Travis starts.

She keeps firing. One by one, each piece of paper is blown to bits. The standard-issued Glock has a fifteen-round magazine and she empties it expertly. Nothing feels more familiar than the pull of a trigger. It’s euphoric. It’s like coming back into her own skin.

The echoing crack of the last gunshot fades into silence. There’s none of the ambient wildlife noises from before.

“Should I keep going?” she asks breathlessly.

Travis is still looking off into the gloom. 

“Travis?” Laura presses.

“I…” He blinks, slipping back to the present. A rare grin tugs on his lips as he assesses her with an odd look. “Your practice paid off."

It’s not like she ever had any choice in the matter. Abruptly, it feels wrong to hold the gun.

“Take it,” she says, holding it out. “I’m done tonight.” 

He re-holsters the gun without argument. "Where'd you learn to shoot?"

Her spine laces up with steel, but there’s no hidden motive behind his eyes. As far as she can tell, it’s an honest, oblivious question. 

And that makes it so much worse, because that means—

That means that he forgot.

A nauseous mix of warmth and horror churn together in her chest. Anyone who knows the Brandt name knows her story. So, how long?

How long has it been since he started to see her as just Laura?

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, brushing her sweaty palms against her legs.

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say. His passive attention sharpens into a razor-thin edge the moment it clicks back into place. The air grows cold and barren. Any hint of light banter from before is as dead as the ghosts around them. 

There’s nothing she wants more than for him to brush it off, toss out an insult. Anything would be better than the way he looks at her.

“Laura,” he says softly.

He’s not allowed to do that.

"I said, I’m done tonight,” she snaps. “Are you going to hand over the room key, or are you coming with me?”

He has the balls to appear sympathetic, and that by itself makes her want to sleep in the parking lot rather than wait for an answer, so Laura turns on her heel and starts the trek back. 

It’s bracingly dark now that her eyes have adjusted to the flashlight, but she doesn’t have to wait long before the beam of it looms over her shoulder. 

Her shadow sweeps out beyond the cover of the light. Stretching, swallowing. The path is charred with it.

How fitting, Eliza whispers in her ear.

.

.

July 23rd, 2022

True to the mechanic’s estimate, it’s late morning by the time they’re able to hit the road again. Aside from picking up breakfast at a drive-through, few words are exchanged. It’s hard to look at him.

And god, isn’t that pathetic?

This entire road trip has been one large game of dominos, with every victory marked by chain reaction into something intimate, precarious. She's under the pile now, buried under a stack of moments.

They weren’t supposed to become friends. He doesn’t even want to be her friend, right? He’s made that perfectly clear. The moment they forgot who the other person was—

the daughter of a murderer, the man who used to be her captor

—things got well and truly fucked. She doesn’t know how to fix it. 

Even worse, she’s not sure that she wants to.

We just need to get back to the sheriff’s station, she thinks resolutely. They’ll have their respective spaces back, and eventually, things will go back to how they were.

Her notes serve as a worthy distraction, and she bites her fingernail idly, considering the scrawled out story that her and Travis managed to piece together yesterday.

Before there was the Beast, there were the trials.

For over a century, thousands of families were accused of being werewolves or “wolf-charmers.” The trials targeted the weak and vulnerable, those who lacked the protection afforded to the upper class.

So when a beast appeared in the southern region of France just as the trials were dying out, the locals thought it was a curse brought on by the devil himself. The beast scourged the land, devouring without prejudice. 

Men, women, and children were often found with their heads decapitated and their corpses mutilated beyond a typical animals’ capability. Those who managed to save their lives could only describe the beast in fleeting detail.

Some said it was a wolf the size of a horse with the gaping maw of a lion. Its tail could wrench a grown man in half, and cracked like a thunderbolt. Its eyes, sharp like a cat’s, were ringed with red and yellow. 

Only one managed to pierce its hide, and that was the young Marie Valet whose family served as house servants for a baron. Though several men would go on to swear that they managed to fell the beast, the fear of a resurgence in werewolves, or perhaps the renewal of a witch hunt, prompted many families to take their chances in a new country.

Perhaps this is what drove Marie Valet and her husband to immigrate to a quiet New England settlement several years after the attack. Despite being foreigners in a time where non-Englishmen were looked down upon, their skills quickly established themselves as a respectable family.

Their trade? Butchering and metalworks. If that’s not a clear cover for werewolf hunting, Laura doesn’t know what is. Each generation carried on the family trade until they faded off the earth. 

After his wife’s passing, Theo moved several day’s journey to Wolcott, which at the time held less than a thousand residents and, according to Google, has barely grown in almost two centuries. It’s said that he went on to run a jewelry shop after his wife’s name until he passed, and his body was shipped back to be laid beside his wife. And that’s it. 

There’s no mention of any werewolves in the Americas. Nothing pertaining towards moonlit hunts and silver weaponry. All that appears to be left of them is a jewelry shop that won’t yield any searches on the internet, and a few cryptic gravemarkers scattered around the northeast.

Even the poem, splashed on the inside cover, is excused away as the family embracing their history. It’s bullshit. 

There’s no way that generation upon generation would request for it to be put on their tombstone in memory of something their ancestor did in another country. 

It’s just not plausible. But what is plausible is, whatever knowledge the Valets managed to collect, has to be out there somewhere. 

And that may be the key to all of this, Laura thinks, idly tapping her finger against the ink-stained pages.

Once they get back into reliable service range, she’ll need to contact the cafe manager and see if they know what happened to Theo Valet’s jewelry shop. It’s their last solid lead before they’re left in final frontier-esque territory, and she’d rather cross off all of their boxes before putting her hematology classes to the test.

“This is Sheriff Hackett,” Travis announces professionally, and Laura jolts back to awareness. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear the phone ring..

Immediately, his face goes pale.

“I didn’t check who it was before answering.”

Travis’ eyes flit towards her. “I’m driving back from a call right now. I’m coming back as soon as I can… Yes, of course.”

The call ends, and he slips the phone away. The air is unseasonably cold for late July, and today is marked with a cotton overcast and ground damp with promise for miles ahead. A storm is brewing, and they’re driving straight to it.

They’re only about halfway through Vermont. That leaves five or so hours left before they reach North Kill. Five or so hours before the moon is full.

“How would you describe a werewolf?" she asks, breaking the silence.

Travis furrows his brows at the redirect, but he doesn’t hesitate in answering. “A demon. A freakish, furless monster."

"Exactly, furless.”

Travis looks at her, then, and she continues on. “How the fuck did anyone see 'wolf' in the Beast of Gevaudan unless they used to look different?"

 "Or... there's different kinds of werewolves,” he offers. “Whatever kind that Silas is could be different from what was in France at the time?”

“It’s hard to say,” she says. “It could mean that there’s different curses. Or, maybe curses can evolve?”

“I’d believe almost anything at this point,” Travis says bluntly. “But whatever it is, the Valet’s brought the poem here, and that’s what Eliza and Silas seemed to be looking for. That has to mean that both sides of the curse believed they were on to something.”

He’s right, but the discrepancy still niggles at the back of her mind. It’s another item on the list of things that they can’t get to the bottom of right now. 

They enter a stretch where the service becomes spotty, and with the radio only catching every other song, it’s hard to not try to fill the silence. But any spark of conversation dies out after a few half-hearted attempts. 

She knows he can feel it, too. There’s a darkness looming over them in this car.

The hour barely passes before the phone rings again, and Travis dutifully checks the screen before visibly deflating.

He doesn’t have a chance to respond before the person on the other end of the line speaks. Despite only hearing it once before, Laura would recognize her voice anywhere. It may as well be on speakerphone, given how the elder Hackett barks out the words.

"Goddamn it, you shithead!” The old woman’s voice comes through the receiver reedy and thin. Laura’s eyes widen at the words. “The boys are getting ready for patrol, and you're late!”

Immediately, Travis’ face falls. “Ma, I’m heading back now. I had to check on something for work—”

“You must’ve hit your fucking head if you think I’d believe that. You think your little sheriff badge makes you better than the rest of the family?”

Travis’ eyes flit over to her, and Laura quickly averts her gaze. It feels wrong to listen to this, but it’s not like there’s anywhere for her to go.

“No, ma, I’ve never said that. I’m on my way now, I promise.”

“I bet you're at home with your feet kicked up, you lazy piece of shit.”

The words land like a physical blow, and Travis’ shoulders curl inwards.

“Oh, you motherfucking asswipe!” his mother hollers in the silence, and oh my god. “I have half the mind to go over there myself and drag you out by those mudflaps you call ears!"

“Ma, could you please listen to me, for once?” His voice strains to keep even, but it’s heartbreakingly simple to hear the cracks along the edges. “I’m at work.”

“You ain’t shit!”

“Patrol lasted longer than it should’ve,” he continues over the outburst. “I’m sorry that I didn’t call, ma.”

“Don’t patronize me…” his mother growls. The rest of her sentence is too low to hear, but Travis bears it in awful silence. Laura doesn’t want to hear it, and yet she strains to listen.

Curiosity in its ugliest form always yields the worst breed of memory. It’s like driving past a horrible car accident and having the urge to look, despite knowing that nothing good lies within the wreckage. It’s obvious what she’ll hear, and yet, she has to know. 

She has to, because the man sitting beside her, driving them straight to the den of werewolves, has been made small because of it. And that isn’t the Travis Hackett that she knows.

Finally, the call ends. The silence that follows is thick, heady. It’s a cloud of smoke that burns her lungs when she breaks it.

"Why does she… talk to you like that?"

He shakes his head in a quick, staccato motion that’s more of a flinch. "Yeah, no."

“Travis.”

“We’re not doing this,” he says sharply. “Never. Don’t even try it.”

Laura’s stomach twists with uneasiness. That call really shook her up, she realizes belatedly, which makes her even more agitated. The last time she heard a parent talk to their kid that way…

“You deserve better,” she says fiercely.

He shakes his head again rapidly this time, almost as if he can jostle the words loose. “No.”

“No, you don’t deserve better?”

“That’s not—! You’re always twisting my words!”

“Well, I’m just saying, as a member of the shitty parent club, I don’t think moms are supposed to talk to their kids like that.”

“I’m not exactly a kid, though, am I?”

“Travis.”

He fixes her with eyes as dark and unmoving as flint. “Drop. It.”

She recalls the kindness he afforded her last night. How, when they got back to the motel, he let her slip into the bathroom before he even passed the threshold. How he didn’t say a word when she finally emerged and crawled into bed without explanation.

Laura understands better than anyone. Some secrets, especially those exposed by daylight, deserve their own shadow to hide in.

Travis releases a breath, and that’s the last time either of them make a sound for a long while. The road rolls out like a rope before them, on and on, as far as the eye can see. It’s once they’ve re-entered the landscape of pines and broadleafs, and the setting sun anoints receding storm clouds with a golden crown, that the phone rings again. 

The contact photo flashes on screen. There’s the Hackett matriarch, eyes dark and crinkled from a broad smile yellowed with age. Constance Hackett is spelled out boldly in white.

She doesn’t dare say a word. They’re already on edge with the looming time limit right on the horizon, and now there’s this. It’s the domino effect all over again.

This is the crazy old woman who talked about the ‘dumfuck in the lake’ all those weeks ago. Who spoke to her son like she was reading off of a script for a movie villain.

At least Eliza wants to keep Silas alive.

Dread drips into her stomach like an IV line with each phone vibration, but the only movement he makes is to turn the radio up. When he lets it go to voicemail, she starts to relax.

Then it starts to ring again.

Travis grips the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white. When he glances down at the phone, it’s with a league of despair so barely restrained that she doesn’t think twice before grabbing his wrist. 

“Don’t,” she says quietly.

Family is the most important thing in the world.

It’s not. Whatever lies on the other end of that line isn’t worth the cost.

The contour of his face shifts, then, and it’s like watching light shine through frosted glass. His attention lingers where her fingers wrap around the cuff of his sleeve. 

Haltingly, Travis slides out of her grasp and traces his fingers under her palm, resting his thumb atop her hand. It’s a delicate touch. Just enough pressure that if she weren’t looking, she might not even notice it at first.

But Laura is looking. And under the cover of his calloused skin, she’s never looked more soft.

The moment only lasts a breath. He releases his hold, and she plucks the phone up with slow, telegraphed movements, giving him time to object. When he doesn’t react, Laura holds the power button until it shuts off for good and locks it away in the center console.

No more phone calls. No more memories.

“There’s nothing we can do from this far away, right?” Laura says, and her voice sounds strange. “They’re just going to have to deal with it until we make it back to town.”

Travis doesn’t speak for some time. 

The last colors of the day’s light mix together like an oil spill, and several of the brightest stars are already peaking through the veil. Any moment now, the full moon is going to take its rightful place.

The radio blares the intoxicating beat of an old Metallica song, but it’s hard to focus on the words. She fiddles with the broken zipper of her jacket.

“Your hand looks nice. It’s healed nice,” he amends, blinking rapidly. “You’ve got a good white blood cell count.”

“...I guess so,” she says after a moment, splaying her pale fingers out. The scabs have thinned out into small lines. 

“I’ve always healed pretty well, thankfully. I take multivitamins.”

“That’s good.”

“How much further?” Laura baldly redirects. She swears he lets out a sigh in relief before responding.

“Fifteen minutes, at most. I’ll drop you off at the sheriff’s station. That should give me enough time to rendezvous with my family at our typical meet-up, and then I’ll check back in with you at daybreak.”

“I can help,” she starts, but he shakes his head.

“You can help like we planned, by researching.” At her silent judgment, he elaborates, “They already know something’s up. I can’t risk doing anything else that would make them want to investigate on their own.”

It’s a good enough excuse for tonight. But next time, she silently promises, I’m joining the hunt.

Travis’ radio erupts with static, which is the only warning they get before a man’s low, panicked voice fills the cabin.

“Travis! Travis, are you there?”

He mutters a curse before grabbing the receiver hooked to his chest. “I’m just finishing things up. I’ll be over in twenty.”

“Pa said you need to be here now, or he’s gonna go to the station and grab ya.”

“Tell him there’s no need. I’m on my way to the house right now. Didja get anything on the game cam?”

There’s a pause, and then, “No. He wants to meet at the station.”

He drops back against the headrest with resentment and dread warring on his face. Travis hisses out a long breath.

“I’m on my way,” he answers neutrally.

The woods are bathed with the cold glow of moonlight, and for just a second, Laura swears she sees a shadow dart between the trees.

“What’s the plan?” she asks when it’s clear there won’t be another response over the radio.

“The plan,” Travis says slowly, “has changed. I’ll drop you off at my house. It’s on the edge of town, and if they’re going to the station, I can’t risk you being seen.”

“Oh,” Laura says.

The look she gets is full of dry exasperation. “I have a spare bedroom you can use for the night.”

“Cool.”

“Sure. My brother used it anytime he pissed off his wife.” He doesn’t smile, but some of the harsher lines around his brow fade.

“I gather that happens a lot?” She aims for a lighthearted tone, but it does nothing to dispel the tension that has surely stained this car by now.

He purses his lips. “Happened. Amelia, Kaylee’s mom, passed away during childbirth. No one really uses it anymore. But it’s clean.”

“That’s… really sad.”

“That it’s clean?” he asks dark humoredly. “It just is what it is.” 

They pass by the North Kill welcome sign, and Travis takes them off of the main road and into a stretch of old forest that’s broken up by the occasional clearing. 

Travis jerks his head down to the glovebox. “Grab us a few vials of werewolf blood in there.”

“I thought you were leaving me at your house?” she asks with a raised brow.

“I am, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to be dumbasses about it,” he says bluntly. At her scowl, he adds, “You’d have to be out of your mind to go outside on a full moon without taking precautions.”

Especially with Eliza targeting our backs, goes unsaid.

She opens the glovebox and sure enough, several small glass vials roll together with a soft clink. Laura eyes them dubiously. He’s mentioned werewolf blood several times now, but she never considered how he stored it. 

Knowing him, these have been cooking in the car for weeks. No doubt it smells foul. If the blood has kept and still acts as a deterrent for werewolves, and not as a carcass ripe for picking like other typical predators, that says something interesting. 

If someone is cured of lycanthropy, are there any lingering effects on their physiology? And if someone dies while cursed, is their blood still that of a werewolf, or a human’s?

Clearly, despite having been extracted from the host, this blood is still that of the beast’s. Which begs the question, where does the curse live in the body? How does it latch onto someone after the bite, and how can killing the alpha wolf magically cure the infected?

Well, there’s the keyword right there, she thinks wryly. It’s magic.

She uncorks a bottle and yup, fuck, that reeks. Laura barely restrains a gag at the smell.

“Stop sniffing it and put it on,” Travis tells her impatiently. “We’re here.”

Lit up by only the gleam of their headlights, the two-story cabin looks eerie. She isn’t sure what she expected from him, but it wasn’t this. 

The bones of it are old, likely laid decades ago, but it looks decently kept. A grand stone chimney stands proudly on the western side, and the front porch wraps around the back. A lone fold-up chair sits out under the overhang.

He grabs one of the vials and pours a bit in his hand, smearing it across his face without hesitation.

It’s hard not to grimace at the feeling of cold— why is it so thick— blood, but Laura swallows back her disgust and slathers it on like moisturizer. If she doesn’t think about the smell, or the look, or the way it feels almost gritty against her skin, Laura can almost pretend she’s doing her skincare routine. Almost.

Travis leaves the ignition on when he snatches up her bag from the car floor and steps out. He’s well ahead of her, fishing in his front pocket for the house key when he falters. 

“What is it?” she asks, stepping out of the car. The answer makes itself apparent soon enough. 

There, crouched on the rooftop like a gargoyle, is a monster.

[narumi-gens]

Five JJK characters you’d play strip poker with

this feels like a cheat because it’s basically top 5 characters I want to get naked but I’m not gonna argue with the prompt lol (ps. I had to google poker hands to figure out which ones were good and which ones were bad.) warning: hint of smut

Top 5 jjk characters I would play strip poker with (and what item I would demand they remove first 👀):

1. Nanami 

It had taken a lot of convincing – and a decent amount of wine – for Nanami to agree to play. But now that you have him here, you’re not about to let this golden opportunity go to waste. And so, when you lay down your winning hand, the words are quick to leave your lips. “I want the tie,” you tell him and he raises an eyebrow at your eagerness before doing as you requested and reaching for the signature tie he wears around his neck. But just as he grabs the knot that had grown looser and looser with each glass of wine, you interrupt him with a grin. “Slowly.”

2. Gojo

When the first hand you lay down is a straight flush to Gojo’s pair of threes, he wonders if his brilliant plan to get you naked was truly that brilliant. But as you raise your eyebrow at him, daring him to try and call the whole thing off, he dismisses the idea altogether. The only thing better than you getting naked for him is him getting naked for you. So, he merely throws you a suggestive grin and leans in closer.  “So, what’ll it be first? What are you dying to get your eyes on first?” he asks eagerly. “The shirt so you get to admire my chest? Or my pants so you can get straight to the goods?” He finds himself faltering when your smirk only widens and he can suddenly feel sweat beading on the back of his neck. You prop your elbows on the table and interlace your fingers so that you can rest your chin on the backs of them and you truly look like the cat that got the canary. “Take off the sunglasses.”

3. Geto

It’s not really fair that Geto only agreed to play if he could wear his robes. He has a whole wardrobe of regular, civilian clothing that he could choose from. And you know he’s not that bad of a card player that he needs such a severe handicap. And so, when you win your first hand, you have to think carefully since there are so many layers. But when you lift your eyes from appraising his outfit to meet his gaze, a small smile appears on your lips. You know there’s only one place that you could begin, no matter what he was wearing. “Your hairtie,” you say and when he removes the hairtie that’s holding up half of his hair in a bun, you’re entranced as you watch his long strands fall past his shoulders. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to sweep the deck of cards to the floor so that you can bury your fingers in his hair and tug him close to capture his lips with yours. However, before you can do anything, Geto’s already dealing the next hand with a knowing grin.

4. Toji 

You went into the game knowing that you would lose handily. After all, Toji’s gambling habit is something you’re more than aware of. So it’s not really a surprise that you’re already topless, Toji fully-clothed as he smugly swings your pink, lace bra around his finger by its strap like he owns it. And when you see how his eyes are glued to your bare breasts, only ever looking away to glance at his cards, you can’t really complain.  When you finally win your first hand, he lifts his gaze from your tits to meet your eyes with a smirk. Regardless of what you tell him to take off, it won’t change the fact that you’re only one bad hand away from handing him your matching underwear. But that just means you need to be strategic with the article of clothing you make him remove. His confidence in his poker skills is so high that he only’s wearing a shirt, pants, and his boxer briefs, knowing that you wouldn’t win three hands. So, you have to choose between his shirt and his pants. The pants are the obvious choice, but just as you’re about to request them, you realize that his lower-half is hidden behind the table and it would be pointless to make him take them off.  “Give me your shirt.”  He pulls his shirt over his head so slowly that you know he’s making a show of it, a show that you’re more than happy to watch. He tosses the shirt to you with a cocky grin that loses some of its edge when you cross your arms below your breasts and lean forward with a cocky grin of your own. “Now we match,” you tease. “Not for long,” he laughs and he proves himself right when his next hand is a full house. “Looks like you just lost, sweetheart.” When you hand him your underwear, you make sure that the wet spot in the crotch is clearly visible for him to see as he takes them from you. “I don’t know,” you hum with a smirk that grows wide when you see the hunger in his eyes as he rubs his thumb along the evidence of your arousal. “Feels kinda like I won.”

5. Mei Mei 

All Mei Mei is wearing is a long, black dress and when she suggests playing strip poker, you’re torn over her motives. Is she that confident in her abilities or is she just that eager to seduce you? (Not like the latter would be that hard.) The answer comes when she folds her first hand and without waiting for you to demand her dress, she’s already pulling it off to reveal nothing underneath. She then flips her hair over her shoulder and gives an exaggerated pout.  “Oh, I guess I already lost.”

[sanghyukstattoos]

Care

Summary: Almost any day now.

Genre: crime au; fluff-fluff; smut-smut-smut (spanking and submissive behaviour, amongst others)

Characters: B.I I Kim Hanbin x reader x Bobby I Kim Jiwon

A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, please refer to here for more; For SF9 writings, read here and for iKON, read here~~

The place is a motel, straight out of an American movie. You would not see a place like this anywhere else in the world, or even visit one for that matter. But he had insisted. He brought you here, on a whim, spontaneously. The bed is fine, less than clean but not dirty either. Upon first glance, the place is retro. ''Out of an American movie'', you had said out loud. He chuckled, ''I guess it is.''

Now he is balls deep in you. Caressing your side, in a soothing manner, soothing your cries and whimpers because of the stretch he causes. But it's more than that. The cries of his name that fall from your lips is because of how he pleasures you. Surges of arousal rocks you to and from. With every touch he fills you.

Hot and cavernous are his kisses. You only lean away for breath. Ironic that it has to be something so intimate to occur in such a setting. With every kiss, your hot cries are muffled, like he wants you all to himself. So that no one else can hear you. It is the small space between the two of you, within which all the sounds of resulting pleasure come from, that cultivates such precious memories.

Maybe it was the thrill of running away. From the police you were running, gasping for breath. You wonder if you are going to go to jail. That can not happen. There was conflict of the mind. You were scared, when you were running through the barbed-wired gates but for a brief moment, you looked at the two of them and laughed. Such a weird moment it was; you can't stop thinking about it.

''Let's play some music'' he had said. As he kissed your collarbone and fluttered down your breasts, taking a perk bud into his mouth, hot and heavily, music played through the speaker. In between fast- paced and slow-paced, regular maybe, it played in the background. It was like nature, enough to leave an impression but also enough to pass by.

Hanbin sucked on the skin above your breasts, skirting the area with the warm touch of his lips, his mouth doing it's dirty work. He loves tasting you, the smell of your skin would embrace him too, in this act. Without Jiwon. The atmosphere is different, more serious. With Jiwon it would be light, some jokes would be thrown around. Where is Jiwon?

Out taking a risk. He could be caught. You and Hanbin are here, without a care in the world. Finish what you start. A couple of thoughts are involved in this. He absolutely needs to be naked with you, to let go of all his worries. Motivated by his concerns about the three of you getting caught by the police? High off adrenaline? Whatever it is, you push him on his back, straddling him with a bright smile.

Moans and groans ensue from the man underneath you, whose chest you have your hands roam on, freely. Exploring. Your mouth falls open, jaw slacks when you sink onto his hard cock, circling your hips. The two of you are way past any concerns at this point. He caresses your backside, kneading the flesh in his hand.

You fall forward, on his chest. He slapped your backside, rather harshly, eliciting a moan from you. Anything he does would be pleasurable to you right now. Not less than twenty minutes later, Jiwon comes back. Flash of fear radiates throughout your chest. Your first instinct is to freeze but Hanbin's isn't. He covers you with his body, shielding you from view.

You look like you are caught. You can not see much but you relax. It's Jiwon's chuckle, ''You guys are doing this? Go on, it's not like I haven't seen her naked before.''. You mumble something for Jiwon to shut up, which he laughs at, ruffling your hair before dropping off the groceries on the table.

''Shit you scared me man.'' Hanbin murmurs, ''Plus, we were done, just cuddling.'', he motions, wincing as he slips out of you and into his jeans. You lay on the bed for some time, contemplating, looking outside with your limbs splayed all over the sheets. In a moment, you find them in the bathroom.

Jiwon is freshening up, all his clothes removed, hastily placed on the counter. He only wears his boxers. You grab your shirt from the side, putting it on. Jiwon momentarily loses his train of thought when he glances at you. ''What was I saying? Ah'' was what he said, welcoming you with a hug.

The conversation stops short. He hugs you, in relief, I'm back, so to say. He nuzzles himself in your hair, breathing in the scent of home, what it smells like. Committing it to memory just in case he does not come back anymore. Hanbin looks up from his phone, smiling at the two of you. It can not be the same without either of you or something like that, he thinks.

''What happened?'' you ask in the embrace with Jiwon. It sparks a need from him, he's open to the idea since there's a bed big enough to fit the three of you out there. He needs you, but not now. He has something to tell you first.

''Let's get out of here first.'' he motions to the bed that makes up for most of the room.

Hanbin doesn't say anything, he follows you out into the room. ''We have time, we can stay here for sometime. Unless the two of you want to get out of here, which is perfectly fine by me. Actually, I think we should move.'', Jiwon looks out the room, confirming his idea.

Hanbin seats you in between his legs, his chest touching your back and opposite Jiwon who is close enough to touch your knees. He rubs your sides, blowing out air in nervousness. He tries to keep calm. He can't lose his calm now, especially not in front of the two of you. Shit like that is contagious.

''Where should we move?'' Hanbin asks. This has to be thought out carefully. Choices have to be rationalised right now. The more choices the better, but then it would feel as if it was wrong, like this can't be right.

After that conversation, Jiwon takes the two of you to the pool he found earlier. To relax. You feel that he's doing this because you won't be able to rest, maybe for a really long time. Jiwon thinks hard to himself that he wants the three of you to be together. More peacefully as compared to the situation that you currently are in. Maybe in a foreign country, relaxing on the beachside, something like that.

He'll make sure that it happens, just the three of you. He knows that you aren't one for settling down but it's better than going to jail. That's how it is at this point. Alone would endanger you with no help and three is a support but easy to pick off when together. Stuck. Perception?.

He's on the other side of the pool, waddling his legs and leaning against the granite wall. The pool is blue, brightly so. Sun shines throughout the whole area. Hanbin is at the opposite end; you are swimming towards Jiwon. You took off your t-shirt earlier. You are naked right now. What can Jiwon do?. He knows that this was perfect.

Jiwon reaches out for you as do you for him. He switches so that it's you against the wall. You already know how this will play out. But every time is a new experience. Of experience but new? Fresh is the optimal word. You kiss him lightly, giggling some and laughing some.

He reached for your sex, easing a finger or two in without warning. His groin stirs at the scenario. You were already wet from having sex with Hanbin, he had eased you up. But like this? You must have been ready for a second round. You would have done so if Jiwon hadn't come back then.

If he was more than a second late, he would have seen Hanbin ramming your pretty ass into the creaking bed, without a care that the bed should be intact because it's the only one you have. For three people. He could have joined in. But now he had you all to himself. He turns you around, telling you to place your hands on the wall.

You do so excitedly, he can see the flush on your cheeks at his suggestion. ''From the back?'', you ask even though you know. He hums, placing a kiss on your neck, pumping himself a few times before he sinks into your warmth. God, it is glorious. He is lost for words. The feeling of relief after a long day spent running and what not. He always had the energy to do this with you.

He rocks you against the edge of the pool, shifting the water in waves. Hanbin doesn't watch for the first half, but he can hear. And his cock grows hard when he hears. Especially what you say about Jiwon's dick and how it is like an intrusion between your legs. Fuck, he thinks. You cry out in pleasure, like you had moments ago, cutting off your speech short.

It is how hard you were holding onto the edge, grasping the granite, moaning out like the mess you were. Jiwon noticed the red print, like a shake darker than it should have been. The mark on your backside, made by Hanbin. He grits his teeth at that instant. He pulls you back by the neck, asking, ''What were you and Hanbin up to when I was gone huh?''.

His tone is punishing and you know where this is going. You are about to love this. He takes your silence as disobedience. He lets go of your neck, letting you fall back to the edges. Jiwon forces you straight when he fists your hair, printing your backside red. Tears rim your eyes. You will find it hard to sit afterwards.

Jiwon is angry. Unsuccessfully, he had pushed it away earlier. By going out, he was risking his life, your relationship. He could have been caught. But he walked in to see the two of you having the time of your life, of course, it angered him. And this is how it was coming out. Frustration.

He hits till you cry out for him to stop. He goes much more slowly then. He caresses your tummy, avoiding your sore spot altogether, asking, ''You okay? Do you want me to stop?''. You sniff, finding him peering at you with those inquisitive eyes, always inquisitive.

You disagree and he continues on, till he rips your release out of you. Before you can slump, Hanbin catches you, sliding in front of you. You lean on his chest. Jiwon kisses you, leaving the pool. You pull him back, ''Where are you going?''. He kisses your hand, meeting your smile, ''I'll be back.''.

You are a little tired, not by much. Hanbin holds you till Jiwon comes back, with a bottle of lube and a condom. ''Huh?'' you murmur, realising that you are not done, at least not yet. Jiwon slips back into the pool, the warm body of water enveloping his figure.

Two different people, two different scenarios. Perhaps not all the resources are available but you have time. Enough to let both of them fill you up before you leave for the open road.

[oneaddishun]

Slow Hands

THIS MIGHT SEEM CONFUSING, SO...

ITALICS- THE STORY OF LAST NIGHT

REGULAR- PRESENT SCENARIO

INDENTED- LYRICS TO SLOW HANDS

You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. Your eyes flutter open. You look around yourself and realize you were not at your home. Where were you?

You were at Niall's.

How you ended up here was still a mystery to you. Apparently, you were pretty drunk last night and now you have a hangover. Very slowly, you slide out from the plush duvet. Your eyes were wide open when you realized that you were stark naked from your waist down. On the upper half, you were wearing a thin, grey oversized shirt which obviously wasn't yours. You were wearing nothing besides that shirt.

You gasped.

"Please... Jesus Christ... I better not have lost it..." You mumble as you walk out of the room. You said so because you were a virgin.

You went to the living room and sure enough, Niall was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand and a pencil in the other. Some papers rested on his lap.

He looked up and got up when he saw you. He was wearing his boxers. Nothing else. His hair were tousled in a sexy way. This sight alone was enough to make you weak on your knees.

He had a smirk plastered on his face. He stopped walking when he was directly in front of you. Then his face was expressionless. Your mind was swirling with questions. But one question that you really wanted to ask the most was,

"What happened?"

"You were," he replied. "A virgin?"

You look at your feet and nod your head. His intimidating presence could make you faint any time now. The word he said was enough to tell you what happened. He said it- 'were'. Past tense. Not anymore.

"What happened?" you repeat.

In response he shoved the papers into your chest and you put your hand on them to prevent them from falling. He walked away without saying a word. You read the title,

Slow Hands

"What's this Niall?" you yell from your position.

"Proof that you're not as innocent as people tink," he replied in a strong Irish accent. "This is what happened last night."

You read the document and scenarios started flashing in your head. Scenarios of last night. Each line held a story behind it. Niall had written a whole song about last night...

We should take this back to my place

That's what she said right to my face

A very drunk you had called Niall last night. You were at the bar and definitely not aware of what shit you were doing. You called him and started ranting about how irritating he was.

The enmity between you and Niall was very popular amongst your friends.

"Where are you?" he asked after your long lecture was over.

"See? You're so nosy. That's why you're irritating," you reply instead of answering his question.

About an hour later, Niall was on the bar stool beside you with a Guinness in his hand. He had somehow found out where you were and being the nosy person he is, he came over and got tipsy with you.

It first started at flirty arguments. Then it turned into a hot make out session.

"We should take this back to my place," you whispered between the kisses.

"No, mine," he asserted.

You sank down on the dining chair reading the song and remembering the previous night. It was exactly what had happened. You read the next lines and opened your eyes wide in shock.

'Cause I want you bad

Yeah, I want you baby

"Why not mine?" you had questioned.

"Because I want you bad," he replied and kissed you again.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah I want you baby," he planted another kiss. "And my house is closer than yours,"

I've been thinking 'bout it all day

And I hope you feel the same way

Fifteen minutes later, you were completely stripped except for your panties, and lying on his bed. He was kissing you all over your body. You thanked heavens that you were drunk because there was no way you could've done this sober.

He went down south with each kiss until he reached the hem of the only piece of clothing you were wearing. You moaned when he cupped your sex.

He looked up at your face and made eye contact. Then, without losing the contact, he ripped off your panties exposing you completely. You felt a bit shy now but you were more intoxicated. Not just by the alcohol, but also by his presence.

He took a good look at you. "Damn! I've bin tinking 'bout it all day. Yer beautiful," He said before going down on you.

'Cause I want you bad

Yeah I want you baby

"Jesus Christ!" you exclaim. "Did this really happen?!"

"Mmhmm," he replied nonchalantly from the kitchen. "Every nitty gritty detail,"

You went on reading.

Slow, slow hands

Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry

No, no chance

That I'm leaving here without you on me

He worked his hands slowly on your core, rubbing smoothly. His tongue lapped at your clit as he was gently pushing you to your orgasm. Just when you were about to lose it, he stopped all the movement. He looked at your face. It was then that you realized that despite all the drama, you actually liked Niall. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck towards the collar of his black shirt which was already drenched with his sweat.

Then in a trice, he flipped you over so now you were on the top. You had never been with a man before, let alone sit on his erect hard on.

"Are you sure?" you asked him.

"Der's no chonce yer goin' back widaout being on top of me,"

You hesitantly start unbuckling his belt.

I, I know

Yeah I already know that there ain't no stopping

Your plans and those

Slow hands

You know there was no going back at this point. Only going ahead.

"Yeah babe, there ain't no stopping now," he said.

You had said the last part out loud. Your ears were ringing in anticipation as his belt was fully unbuckled. You opened his button and fly. He was wearing black boxer briefs underneath which came off soon enough.

His length was now fully exposed to you in full glory. While you were working on his lowers, he had managed to take off his shirt. He smelt like lavenders.

His hands trailed on the sides of your body. Wherever his skin came in contact with yours, goosebumps started rising. His hands trailed northwards and plunged his thumb in your mouth. You licked it hungrily.

You swiftly pinned his hands to his sides, preventing them from motion.

"I've got some plans," you smirked.

I just wanna take my time

we could do this baby all night

Yeah, 'cause I want you bad

Yeah I want you baby

One whole hour had passed and you had had three orgasms. None of you showed any trace of stopping. You were bouncing on his cock, ecstatic from the fact that it was Niall who took your virginity tonight. You realized that he had still not climaxed even once.

"I just wanna take me time, love. We can do this all night." he said when you urged him.

Fingertips putting on a show

Got me now when I can't say no

Wanna fuck with you all alone

Take me home

You slithered your hand down to where you were connected. You let out a loud moan while doing so. The pads of your fingers brushed against his balls and you knew where to grip now.

You squeezed his balls gently earning a deep growl from his throat. His back arched up as he squeezed his eyes shut. You knew you hit the right chord.

"Niall James Horan," you declared. "Will you cum or not?"

"Yes - ah - yes I will!!!"

"Good cause I'm so close... Shit!" you went faster. You were on the brink of another climax when-

"Hold it!" he demanded. You knew what he wanted. He wanted you to cum with him. You painfully held it in you till you were sobbing. Even though you were on top, Niall was still the dominant person here.

When you couldn't hold it in, you squeezed his balls again. This time, harshly. Your fingertips put on a great show on his scrotum. This sent him over the edge.

Your eyes rolled back and your toes curled as you felt hot spurts of his seed fill up your contracting walls.

This was the best feeling ever. Your head began to sway as you lost your senses. You collapsed on him. You fainted on his cock.

....

"What do ya think- or remember?" Niall asks, taking the seat beside you.

"Excuse me? You wrote a whole damn song on this?" you ask with confusion.

"Mmhmm... Stayed up all the night. Inspiration can come from anywhere," he gave you a playful grin.

An awkward moment of silence took over on the dining table.

He stood up and without wasting a moment, kissed you on the lips. His tongue swirled in your mouth since you easily allowed him entrance.

He broke away from the kiss. "I wouldn't mind writing another one,"

You kissed him again. "Then let's skip all the small talk and go straight up to your room!"

He smirked sexily.

"Yeah. Small Talk."

[fahhhhq]

Never Say Never - Part 5

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (Fem)

WaRnInGs: Explicit content and imagery. Sex. (Don’t read if you’re not mature enough to handle hot and heavy situations😛)

Summary: The connection between you and Henry is indescribable, but will both of you continue with what you’re doing or will your fear of everything get the best of you.  

Thank you for reading, whoever reads this. Love you, my babies🤍

              To be honest, you had never had sex in a shower, and you would be lying if that wasn’t the best sex you had had in your life. After both you and Henry had the most amazing orgasms, you finished washing yourselves. You grabbed some towels for both of you, you wrapped a towel around your head and around your body, but convinced Henry to do the same to his hair, after you teased him.

“Come on, it’s just you and me,” you poke at his side as he dries himself.

He wraps a towel around his waist and stands behind you, both of you looking into the mirror, “Fine.”

“Weee,” you say excitedly and grab a clean towel and turn to him expectantly. Instead, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head like a dog when you get close to him. “Henry!” you squeal and grin.

He laughs and stops, “Fine.” He whips his head forward and you wrap the towel around his hair. He lifts and he looks adorable, but sexy as fuck.

“Oh my, god, you look fucking cute,” you excitedly say and run to the room and grab your phone. You run back to the bathroom and he is waiting for you with a hand on his hip, smiling. “Pose,” you say grinning and he does. He mimics flipping his hair back and he cannot hold back his laughter, and neither can you.

“The things you make me do,” he sauntered towards you and you do not move. You were still not used to him wanting to touch and hug you all the time, because you were not a very touchy-feely person, but that was changing every time Henry touched you.

“What else should I make you do,” you fake a thinking face. When he got close you, you set your phone down and place your hands on his taut stomach and travelled up to his chest. You did not like hairy men, but for some reason, you thought this man was perfect, hairy and all. His body was trim, and his height added a menacing demeanor that drove you crazy.  His broad shoulders and chest were glistened under the bathroom lights like if he had been lying in the sun for hours.

Henry grabs your chin with his finger and his lifts your head, “You can make me do whatever you want, and I’d still say, ‘what else?’”

You look straight into his sapphire eyes and he is serious. Your heart teeters. Your only response is to give him a no holds bar kiss. Your lips fit perfectly to his. He gives a hungry moan, and he hugs you harder towards him. You know your lips are swollen from so much making out, but nothing compares to kissing this man.

You moan into his mouth and he separates from you and gives you a warning look, “If you keep making sounds like those, I’ll be tempted to make this last all night.”

You giggle and bite your lip, “No, I’m sooo sensitive, if you would of touch me right now, I’d come in ten seconds.” You do not care if it was too much information, it was the truth.

He pecks you lips, “Fine, but I’m not responsible for what happens in the morning.” He winks at you and slaps your ass before exiting the bathroom. You are left with your mouth agape and speechless. You walk out and he’s putting on his briefs, the towel still in his head. The muscles in his back moving with every movement he makes. You just stare and try to not get wet, again. You grab the boxers and tank you were wearing before Henry discarded them and put them on. Henry turns off the light from his side of the room, lays under the blankets and motions for you to join him.

“Wait, you’re sleeping here?” you didn’t mean to sound so surprised; you were more excited than anything.

He does not seem offended, he just gifts you a cheeky closed-lip smile, displaying his dimple and nods, “Is that ok?”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Fine, but just because I like you.” He grins and you playfully stick out your tongue at him. “I’ll be back,” You go to the bathroom and do your nightly routine. Just because Henry was waiting for you in bed, that didn’t mean you were going to set aside your beauty regime. You dry and put oils in your hair, moisturize your face and body and make sure you smell nice.

You walk into the bedroom and Henry is already tucked in without the towel in his hair and checking something on his phone. You close the drapes, turn off the lights and get in bed like if you had gotten ready for bed with Henry a million times before.

“I’m so freaking tired,” you say as you scooch over to him. He wraps an arm behind your head. He puts his phone in the table next to him and when he turns, he engulfs you in a bear hug.

“I’m sorry I wore you out,” Henry looks at you, smiling. He is so close to you that your breaths intermingle with one another.

You snuggle into him and run your nose alongside his jaw and neck, “You definitely did, but I don’t mind.”

He hooks his right leg on top of your leg, and you place your leg between his. He kisses your forehead and hugs you closer to him. As if there was any more space.

“When do you leave for Italy?” he says after a while. You were almost asleep, but his question disrupts it.

You look up and he stares straight into your brown eyes, worrisome in his, “In three days, why?”

“Ok,” He nods and looks away, “Can we spend those days together?”

You separate yourself away from him a little, and he seems concerned, “Really?” you cannot help to sound surprised.

“I don’t know if we’re going to see each other again after that, so I want to spend all the time I can with you before you leave,” he says genuinely and your heart swells.

“I would love nothing more, if that’s what you want,” you say as you caress his chin.

“That’s what I want,” He smiles and bites your thumb, the one that was now touching his lower lip. You yelp playfully. He grabs your hand and kisses your palm. “Go to sleep now, sweet girl. I have a signing tomorrow at noon and I want you to go with me.”

You look at him with what can only be explained as a puzzled look, “Wait what? Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, “Is that too forward?”

“I mean, a little,” You sit up a bit, this was moving too fast, you wanted to spend time with him, but you weren’t ready to be seen with him in that magnitude. Having that much attention for “dating” someone was not something that sounded appealing to you.

“You don’t have to be in there with me, we can meet afterwards,” his hands still around you, not wanting more space between the two of you.

“Yeah, that sounds better,” you say and lay down again.

Henry’s grin was all that you needed to have sweet dreams, “Brilliant. Now rest, it’s 3:30 a.m.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Sir, you’re the one keeping me up.” He tries to grab you by the waist to tickle you, but you grab his hands stopping him. “I will kill you,” You try your hardest to sound serious but fail miserably, he does, too.

“Fine,” he suppresses his laugh, “I’ll let you sleep.”

“Thank you,” you say smiling and you feel the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. You give him a peck on the lips, but he does not like that, he pulls you towards him and you let him. The kiss is deep and filled with longing. As you divide from each other, you sigh a deep sigh. You lay back and turn the other way, so he’s spooning you. Which he likes. He wraps a strong around your midriff and sets his leg atop yours. It feels like a 50-pound weighted blanked was just draped on top of you, and you welcome the heaviness.

“Sweet dreams,” he coos into your ear, kissing your neck. You intertwine your fingers with his, not yet ready to let him go either.

------

You wake up with jolt. You were too hot. But then you understand why you are feeling that way when you look down. Henry is almost completely on top of you. His head on your chest, his strong arm around your stomach and his right leg wrapped over yours. Only a sliver of sunshine coming in through the curtains.

You smile to yourself. The night before was not a dream, it was real. You pass your fingers through his curls, careful not to wake him. You stare at the ceiling, remembering everything that had happened last night: the dinner, the drinking, the laughing, the orgasms. Your stomach doing summersaults at the thought of how good he was at fucking you. He stirs a bit, and your hand stops caressing his hair. He rolls to his back, finally giving you some room to breathe. He takes a deep breath and exhale with a snore.

You roll to your side and look at him. This man was molded by the god’s himself and he walked around like if was just another regular person. You couldn’t help but stare at him sleeping so serenely. You lift your hand to his face as quietly as you can. With your index finger you slowly trace across his strong jaw, to his beautifully pouty lips, then down his sharp jaw, you trace the dimple on his chin, then down his neck, over his Adam’s apple, to the hair that caresses the dip between his collar bones and big chest.

You splay your hand over his hairy chest, and feel his chest rise and fall slowly. But then out of nowhere his hand covers yours. He doesn’t say anything, because he’s still asleep. You happily leave it there.

You gently look over to the close and see that it’s 10:30 a.m. You struggle with the decision to wake him up, so he can get ready to go to the signing or stay there a little longer and wake him up like he has probably never been woken up before. You go with the latter.

You gently pull your hand from under his, he does not move. You look down and see his morning wood straining his briefs. A Cheshire smile exhibits across your face and dirty thoughts freely travel your mind.

next parttttt here

Taggity Tags🤍: @tapismyforte, @xxxkatxo, @stephartrave, @summersong69​, @viking-raider, @nie-die-richtigen-wortex

[fantasia-monogram]

As the clock strikes midnight, part 2

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / epilogue

♥️ Taeyang x reader (nonbinary, female anatomy) x Jaeyoon; mentions of other SF9 members

♥️ NSFW (~1.7k words); a lot of sex talk and kink negotiation. Mentions of BDSM and kink. No one is 100% straight. Mentions of queerphobia.

♥️ You’re a beast at work, having to be tough to climb up the corporate ladder, but what you never thought of is that your attitude might be intimidating to your long time crush. Luckily, your much more laid back friend is here to help... both of you. Please read part 1 before this!

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

Your impromptu get-together had been going for over two hours already, and you’d loved every minute of it so far. Your motivation had been mostly spending some time with Taeyang away from the workplace, but you had to admit: your other companion’s intentions towards you weren’t clear either. You enjoyed the mystery of it all, even though it was the youngest of your trio that you had your eyes on ever since the training period started.

Well, the mystery would end there, or so you thought.

“I can’t believe I put myself in a drama-like setting, but,” Jaeyoon started, clearly down out of sudden, “That guy reviewing our results… What was his name? Inseong… I might have a bit of a crush on him.”

You stopped in the middle of bringing a cup to your lips, letting your hand holding the latte hang awkwardly in the air. With the corner of your eye, you could see Taeyang doing the same.

“Come on, don’t tell me that you’re…” Jaeyoon whined, shaking his head.

“No, hear me out,” you interrupted. Before you spoke again, you cautiously looked left and right to make sure no one else was listening. Only then, you continued with a hushed voice. “You know, it drives me crazy whenever they call me a she in those international reports. I’m non-binary, I prefer neutral pronouns. I don’t really have to worry about it on a daily basis, until English rolls in and makes me cringe.”

Your friend leaned closer to you.

“Not like I didn’t notice,” he concluded. A wide grin was back on his face. “Do you like boys, though?”

You could tell he was just joking, given his usual flirty attitude, and you didn’t have to answer at all. However, since you started confessing already, you figured you could take it seriously.

“I do, actually!” You nodded, smiling lightly.

You couldn’t believe you could talk about it openly like that.

“Oh, I don’t discriminate, I fuck everybody,” Jaeyoon replied in a seemingly playful tone, although being serious as well, “But right now? My heart belongs to the Quality Department leader.” He finished with a hand on his chest.

You both laughed wholeheartedly, until you noticed Taeyang was silent this entire time. Jaeyoon turned his eyes towards him, with you following shortly.

“What about you?” Jaeyoon asked boldly.

A look of slight panic flashed through Taeyang’s face, and you’d think it’s adorable if not for the crushing possibility of him having objections towards who you were - now that he knew, it could have changed anything.

You really didn’t want to have your heart broken after mere four weeks since starting a new job.

“I… I like g…” Taeyang stuttered, his gaze briefly catching yours. He held tight onto his cup of coffee and looked away, blushing profusely. “People with vaginas.”

“No way!” Jaeyoon exclaimed. Fortunately, he remembered the topic of your conversation and immediately toned it back down. “I’m sorry, I’d have never clocked you as straight.”

“Hey, stop it!” You smacked his bicep, earning an exaggerated wince from him.

Taeyang rolled his eyes and sighed deeply.

“It’s fine,” he stated, putting on a regretful expression. “I get that a lot. I tried everything, but that’s my final verdict for now.”

Jaeyoon kept making inappropriate jokes despite your earlier protest, but you would be lying if you said you were listening to him. Your eyes were glued on Taeyang, even though he was way too busy deflecting your other friend’s silly remarks to pay attention to you.

*

It wasn't the first time Jaeyoon and Taeyang have visited your place; they've been there numerous times before, together and separately. 

It was the first time, however, when they entered the apartment with all three of you feeling equally horny and not even trying to hide it. 

It couldn't have been caused by the alcohol, because you haven't had any, Taeyang only had a couple sugary drinks, and Jaeyoon got completely sober as soon as the words fun night were mentioned. Nothing had been explicitly stated, but all of you - always having been open not just about your sexual identity and orientation, but also your specific attitudes towards sex in general - have reached an unspoken agreement: everyone was getting off tonight, this way or another.

You quickly decided to take turns using the bathroom. When it was Jaeyoon's turn to shower, you were left alone with Taeyang. It was a bit awkward at first, considering his confession from earlier that you barely replied to. As soon as he sat on a sofa in the living room - smelling clean, fresh glow on his face - you took a place beside him, wearing your black satin pajamas already.

Taeyang leaned back and smiled at you blissfully. Only then, he took your hand in his; after holding it for a good minute, he intertwined your fingers.

"I'm so happy," he whispered. 

You really wished to answer in a coherent way, yet you couldn't possibly focus enough to be your usual, collected self - not when you finally had your long-time crush next to you, shirtless, lightly toned muscles and sharp outline of ribs on display.

Maybe you didn't want to shock him by showing this side of yourself so easily, but it was impossible at this point; your prettiest, prettiest boy was here, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the entire universe, making your heart swell with love and desire just by that. 

Not used to being so overwhelmed with emotions, you just stared back at him wide-eyed.

"Sheesh, don't tell me you started without me!" 

Jaeyoon appeared in the doorway, hair still wet and adorably curled without usual styling - a contrast to his impressive physique in nearly full glory since he, as opposed to the more reserved Taeyang, decided to step out of the bathroom wearing only boxer briefs. 

It's not like you hadn't seen him like this before, as you'd go to the pool together many times over the past few years (Taeyang always refused the invitation, even though he claimed to be a pro at swimming and even bragged about gold and silver medals he won in national competitions during high school). Yet somehow, this time, the sight hit differently, since you knew what was about to happen. 

"No way," you chuckled; Taeyang let go of your hand, which made your mood deflate a little. "Mind if we eat something first?" 

Everyone was starving after the boring company party, so you all moved to the kitchen. You couldn't hide your amusement over how the apartment looked like a dollhouse when trying to contain not just you, but also two grown men. You gave up on relationships ages ago, so when looking for a place to rent, you had only your own comfort in mind.

"Okay, first of all," you started when everyone was finished with their meal, "Are we all safe? While I was still in the dating game, I was always monogamous and did regular checkups. I haven't had any partners for the past four years." 

You cringed internally saying it out loud, but transparency was your number one priority. 

"I never do anything without a condom," Jaeyoon stated. 

As usual, Taeyang took a while before taking part in risky conversations.

"I do BDSM, but it hardly ever involved actual sex." 

"I can confirm that." Jaeyoon smiled smugly, propping his chin on his hand. 

Your eyes went comically wide at the implication. 

"Wait, what did I miss?! I thought you liked, in your words, people with vaginas?" You gasped, blood rushing to your cheeks. 

Taeyang's face turned equally red, except he decided to cover it with his hand. 

"Y/n, dear, he said that three and a half years ago," your friend explained. 

"Jaeyoon hyung had his part in my awakening as a submissive," Taeyang added, finally daring to look at you, "There was nothing sexual about it." 

"Except for the fact I watched you jerk off," the hyung in question clarified. 

"HEY!" The other guy got flushed again. 

You swallowed heavily, feeling your throat get dry all of sudden. Oh my God. You could barely sit still at this point. 

"We both like to watch," Jaeyoon concluded casually. 

"So… Wait a minute," you picked up, your head spinning from the information overload, "If I understand it correctly: Taeyang, you're a sub. Jaeyoon, we're both Doms."

The guys nodded in unison. 

"We're all into voyeurism."

Again, they confirmed with a single nod. 

"I can't believe. This is too good to be true," you said weakly, shaking your head with disbelief. 

"I have an idea," the older of your colleagues continued, "I don't wanna get too much inbetween you two."

Suddenly, Taeyang squeezed your hand under the table in a way that was borderline possessive. 

"But since it's supposed to be enjoyable for all of us… I could get a bit touchy with Y/n… I suppose watching us would be enough to get Taeyangie ready, am I right?" 

Taeyang looked to the side, his expression serious, but his body language unable to hide the excitement. 

"Humiliate me a little and I'll be fine," he muttered under his breath.

He squeezed your hand even harder. You smiled at the feeling. 

"I have one request for you," you turned to Jaeyoon, "No kissing on the lips, no hands in each other's underwear."

"I'm okay with that," he shrugged.

"You sure?" Taeyang asked. 

"No worries, just focus on yourself," the older guy chuckled, "I'll take care of myself while watching you two have fun." 

Was it happening for real? You felt like you were dreaming.

Taeyang brought you back to reality by bringing your linked hands to rest on his thigh. 

"Do we… go all the way?" He inquired in a shy tone. 

You took your time to inhale and exhale deeply before collecting yourself enough to answer. 

"Yeah, we do."

(to be continued)

[tobesobri]

𝒜hh! It’s finally here and I feel very bittersweet about the end of this story. On one hand, this is the first story I had a regular upload schedule with and actually completed in a timely matter so it feels like a big accomplishment to me and I’m excited to get to focus on other things i’ve been working on now! But, at the same time, I love this story and these characters so much so it’s also quite sad that it’s over HOWEVER I am always open to doing little blurbs and extra stuff like that with this story whenever you guys would like to! Okay, I’m gonna go now but I hope you all enjoy this last chapter! It turned out a lot longer than I expected it to so I’m sorry for that lol anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts about this story or just this chapter or whatever you want! thank you for all the love throughout this entire process, it’s been the highlight of my quarantine bhjhbdc 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: IT’S ONLY HUMAN (9.4K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

After dinner, he spread her out on the bed and made her come again, this time while she was wearing his robe. And although it killed him to know how wet she was and not do anything about it, his fears far outweighed his need to go any further. 

They laid together under the covers quietly for a little while afterward while he showed her what she tasted like and they both attempted to catch their breath, not that making out again was helping. But, they really couldn’t keep their mouths or hands off of each other. 

It wasn’t until she slipped her fingers toward the band of his boxer-briefs that everything slowed back down. He pulled away from her and grabbed her wrist before she managed to sneak any farther down his body. Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he kissed her palm to soothe the confused and rejected expression on her face. 

“M’too tired.” He whispered against her skin, hoping that would be good enough. He wasn’t as tired as he claimed, he just wasn’t quite ready to go there with her yet. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” She pleaded, just wanting to give him anything she possibly could. 

He shook his head, however, and hid his eyes, giving her hand back to her, “I’m sorry.” 

Her cheeks immediately flushed and she hated how embarrassed she felt because he was allowed to say no, and she knew that more than anyone, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t like putting herself out there as it was and allowing herself to get so lost in the moment she might have made him uncomfortable? It didn’t feel good. 

“I just,” Harry sighed because even though it was dark in his bedroom, he still saw the look on her face and he knew how he would feel if he was in her position. “I didn't do any of this so you’d repay me, Y/N.” 

“But I want to.”

He intertwined his fingers with hers and brought the back of her hand to his lips, kissing his gently, “I know... I just don’t want you to.”

She stared at him blankly then, having no clue what he meant by that but also knowing that was the end of the discussion. So she nodded and whispered, “Okay,” and let it go. 

But when she escaped to the bathroom to clean herself up and get a breath of fresh air again, she really couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t want her to. She figured at first that he was still worried about hurting her, as he always had been, but then her mind traveled elsewhere the more she thought about it. She wondered if he would ever have proper sex with her knowing what he knew about her past. If he worried that the only thing he’d be able to think of when he was looking in her eyes while being inside of her was what she’d gone through. And she fucking hated it. 

She splashed water over her face before she started regretting ever telling him anything. She was not falling back into the same pit as before. They were being real with each other now. And as much as the nerves overwhelmed her, she just needed to know why for her own sake. 

With a script going on in her head for what she’d say to Harry, she flipped off the bathroom light and stepped back into his room. She got a few steps in toward his bed until she realized he was out cold. His chest moved at a steady pace as he laid on his back and his eyes were fluttered shut peacefully. He really had been tired, she supposed. 

Sighing, she walked into his closet and replaced his robe onto the hanger where she’d found it before removing her bra and replacing it with one of his shirts. She stood at the windows for a moment, dividing her attention between the all-too-familiar view of L.A. and of Harry. 

After about five minutes, he rolled onto his side and pulled a pillow into his arms. She watched him cuddle into it, holding onto it for dear life while he continued to sleep. Smiling to herself, she walked back over to her side of the bed and crawled under the covers with him again, slowly pulling the pillow out from under his arms. She replaced every inch of it with herself until she finally got the pillow out the way and his arms wrapped around her body instead. He nuzzled his face into her neck with a soft hum when she brought her hand to the top of his head and played with his hair. 

Whatever his reason was she’d get it out of him tomorrow. 

He was already in the shower when she got up the next morning and after an entire five minutes of wondering how much he’d hate her for joining him, she got out of bed and went downstairs for a glass of water. 

While she tidied his kitchen, fixing the stack of cookbooks that had gone astray again, his doorbell rang. After she panicked about it for several seconds, she set her glass of water down and went to deal with it. The only thing that calmed her nerves was knowing that whoever was at his front door knew the code to get into his gate and was an approved person to be visiting Harry. And it definitely wasn’t Will. 

Still, she peeked out the front windows first just to see who it was before she opened the door. Upon finding a semi-familiar face, her body fell out of fight-or-flight mode. It was just Harry’s manager. 

He gave her a once over once she finally opened the door and it was then that she realized she was still in Harry’s shirt... and only Harry’s shirt. 

“Sorry, is Harry here?” Jeff asked, his eyes landing on hers again. 

“He’s in the shower. Did you want to come in and wait?” She felt weird about gatekeeping Harry’s house because even though it felt like her home too, it wasn’t. It was weird letting him in as if it was her house. 

Jeff stared at her in disbelief for a moment before he shook his head and walked through the front door after she’d given him space to do so. Shutting the door and locking it again, she turned back to face Jeff, who was, once again, staring oddly at her. 

“Sorry I just... when did this happen?” He motioned to her current attire. When she looked down at herself and didn’t say anything for a moment, he continued. “I mean, I know you two were... but I was under the impression it was complicated.” 

“It’s, uh... not that complicated anymore.” 

Jeff nodded in agreement, “Thank god. Wasn’t kidding when I said he was being a pain in the ass.” He began wandering towards the kitchen and she followed after a moment. 

“He didn’t tell me you were coming over, so I’m gonna go put pants on.” She announced once she caught up to him just as he grabbed a juice from Harry’s fridge. 

“He probably just forgot.” Jeff shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle, “Tell him to hurry his ass up while you're at it.” 

Smiling at him, she then made her way upstairs quickly. She pulled on her spare jeans and walked up cautiously to the bathroom door. The shower wasn’t running anymore so she knocked, not entirely sure what she would have done if he was still in the shower. He wouldn’t have been able to hear her through the closed door and just the thought of opening it and seeing him in all his naked-glory gave her incredible anxiety. And it was mostly for the fact that it was still smack dab in the middle of her mind that he didn’t want to have sex with her and she still didn’t know why. 

Harry pulled the handle and let the door fall open for her as he retreated back in front of the mirror. He had a towel wrapped around his lower half like he always did post-shower and gave her a questioning look. 

“Um...” she dragged her eyes back to his face, “Your manager’s here? In the kitchen.” 

After a brief moment of confusion, he muttered, “Shit,” and started towards her. Stepping out of the way, she let him pass by so he could put clothes on and meet Jeff downstairs. What she didn’t expect, however, was for him to step into his closet, not even bothering to shut the door behind him, and drop his towel right there in front of her. After staring blankly at his backside for an entire heart-pounding five seconds, she averted her gaze. 

He got dressed quickly, only throwing on underwear and a pair of grey joggers before stepping back into his bedroom. “Sorry, I forgot he was coming over.” 

She scratched her fingernails along the seams of her pants and chewed on her bottom lip while he grabbed his phone off the charger. When he turned to face her again, he knew something was up. 

“Everything alright?” 

Nodding, she halted her nervous picking at her jeans and exhaled, “Yeah, it’s just... can we talk afterward?” 

“‘Bout what?” He seemed to have no clue what she could possibly want to talk to him about, but she was sure he did have some semblance of a clue. Harry wasn’t stupid. 

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and cleared her throat to speak but it wasn’t her voice ringing through the room next, rather Jeff’s as he yelled up the stairs. 

“Stop fucking and get down here! I have to leave in twenty!” His voice didn't make Y/N cringe as much as what he said did. They weren’t doing whatever Jeff thought they were, as much as Y/N wished he had, in fact, interrupted something, they just simply weren't. And Y/N desperately wanted to know why. 

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he looked at her again from across the room, “You’re welcome to come down, we’re just discussing promotional stuff.” 

Her heart sank when he didn’t mention their previous conversation at all as he turned to leave the room. And she thought he might not ever again until he paused in the doorway and turned right back around in a huff of air and with shaking hands. 

“I know what you want to talk about. When he’s gone, I promise we will.” 

It was enough to get her through the entire time Jeff was over and after she brushed her teeth and mentally prepared what she’d say to Harry, she joined them downstairs cautiously. She still wasn’t used to being with Harry when they weren’t alone and it made her feel out of place when she joined them in the living room and sat on the complete opposite end of the couch from Harry. 

It felt like she still had to keep a secret, even though Jeff apparently knew everything. Maybe that was another thing they had to talk about... what were they exactly? They both said they loved each other, but she still didn’t consider Harry her boyfriend. 

Jeff gave her a funny look as she sat down, which was transferred to Harry almost immediately. A wave of awkwardness crashed over the entire room until Harry cleared his throat. 

“Uh, so yeah, I’m fine with those... what about the release date though? I don’t agree with next summer.” 

Harry and Jeff went on for a while, going between what promo events they wanted to do and trying to decide on a reasonable release for the album. And while Y/N tried to follow, she just simply couldn’t, especially when Harry’s phone dinged and he glanced her way with an anxiety-inducing look of bewilderment. 

“It’s Will,” Harry glanced down at his phone again, pausing the previous conversation as he skimmed the text one more time before handing the device over to Y/N for her to read it herself. 

(Will, 11:46 a.m.) 

Hey, sorry I bailed on your surprise party. I’m sure Y/N told you what happened. I know you’ve turned down all my offers recently, but I really want to make it up to you and I could use the company. Everyone’s going to be home tonight if you want to come over around six? 

She’d been hoping when Will said he’d be home tonight, that he meant he’d be home with only enough time to spare to get ready for bed so he’d be well rested for work tomorrow. Not that he’d be inviting Harry over when all she wanted to do was feed her roommates another excuse and sleep in Harry’s bed tonight, not her own. Where they could figure things out and hopefully go someplace new that wasn’t as feasible in her own bed. 

It also put a bitter taste in her mouth to read that Harry had been refusing Will’s previous invites to come over. She had no right to, but she had still hoped one night Harry would have shown up at her apartment anyway after she’d left him and avoided his texts. And she hated that she used his inaction as further proof that he didn’t feel anything towards her in that way. Now she understood why he didn’t. 

Because Harry would have let her go too, if he thought in doing so it would make her happy, no matter how much he needed her. And she couldn’t blame him for that. She also couldn’t blame him for being mad or not wanting to see her when she left without talking to him first. When she asked him to forget about their first kiss like it was meaningless to her. When she didn’t give him a single reason why she didn’t want him to move out. 

“What should I say?” Harry asked as she returned his phone. 

She shrugged, “Do you want to come over?” 

She could tell the same thoughts were flashing through his mind too, that, no, he didn’t really want to. He wanted to spend every waking minute of the rest of their peaceful Sunday with Y/N and no one else. But formulating some elaborate lie as to why both Y/N and Harry wouldn’t be at the apartment seemed almost impossible. 

Harry typed away in his phone for a moment before clicking it off after he sent the message, “Suppose I should get you home soon then?” 

She nodded but didn’t really want to agree. She needed to at least make it look like she’d been in her own room since Will left her there yesterday morning. And she definitely needed to be there whenever Will got back. 

“Wait a second,” Jeff sat forward, interrupting, “you two still haven’t told anyone about... this?” He motioned between the both of them and Y/N was relieved she wasn’t the only one confused as to what Harry and her were. 

Harry sighed and leaned back against the couch, “It kinda just happened.” 

It did just happen. But they did not just happen. They started over a month ago now. It used to be a secret because neither one of them wanted to explain the sad situation they were in. That both of them were so fucking lonely they couldn’t sleep without each other. That they weren’t keeping secret hookups from everyone. Now, however, there wasn’t really a reason to hide anymore. 

Even thinking about telling Will, however, made Y/N’s heart race. She’d already lied about it once, she couldn’t imagine how mad he’d be to find out the truth. 

“Are you going to? Because that’s a whole PR nightmare...” Jeff glanced towards Y/N, “on second thought... maybe you should keep it just between you two.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the wonderful advice.” 

It was quiet for a moment until Y/N glanced at Harry and then he found her eyes too and gave her a reassuring smile, “S’up to you. They're your roommates.” 

It was up to her. Harry didn’t care either way. But what would they say if they did tell the three people she lived with? That they were dating? That it just happened? 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” She mumbled before getting up from the couch. Harry eyed her carefully as she walked past him and until he could no longer see her as she disappeared up the stairs. 

“Not a fine line with her anymore then, huh?” Jeff teased.

Harry threw a pillow at his face, “Shut up.” Then after a moment, changed the subject, “I was thinking December next year actually...” 

Y/N paused at the doorway when she heard Jeff and Harry’s muffled voices at the end of the stairs, and, peeking out from his bedroom, saw them as they stood at Harry’s front entrance, Jeff’s hand on the knob ready to leave. 

Her shower had been quick on account of her only bringing a few essentials and nothing else. She didn’t shave or put on a face mask. Just washed everything in about seven minutes, and got out. And now she was hiding behind a wall, eavesdropping on their conversation while her wet hair soaked into the back of her shirt. 

“See you tomorrow then.” Jeff assured, “And tell your girlfriend I said sorry for giving you guys shitty advice.” 

Your. Girlfriend.

She tensed up awaiting Harry’s response to that.

He chuckled and she feared for the worse. “My girlfriend isn’t my girlfriend yet.” 

“You two need to figure your shit out already. I’m exhausted.” 

“Planning on it.” Harry mumbled so that Y/N could just barely make it out. But when it registered what he said, she felt that same old fluttering feeling in her stomach that only Harry knew how to cause. 

“Hope so. Don’t want you to come in tomorrow crying your eyes out again, alright?” And then the fluttering shifted upwards to her chest. Heartbreak. 

She didn’t hear anything else besides Harry’s familiar exasperated chuckling and a very faint, “Okay,” before the front door opened and then shut a few seconds later. And when she peeked out again, Harry stood alone in the foyer. She watched him for a moment as he just seemed to stare off into space, but she couldn’t be sure the way his back faced her. It said more than enough though. He was tense. 

Jeff was gone and he promised to talk. She almost felt like telling him they could do it some other time. But not communicating wasn't exactly their thing anymore. 

Mustering all the confidence she could, she made her way down the stairs, catching his attention at the halfway point when he turned to face her in the, now quiet, entryway. 

She stopped when she made it to the bottom and caved. No words came out, not even the ones she wanted to start with, teasing him about the girlfriend thing. Just... nothingness. 

So he said something first, but it wasn’t without sucking in a breath of air and hiding his shaky hands in his pockets, “It’s not because I don’t want you, Y/N, believe me, I do. I always have.” 

Her words got stuck again as she just stared at him, not even sure where to begin, but then his voice took over once more.

“I’m just scared that if I make the wrong move and hurt you, you’ll think of me differently... and I don’t want that.” 

He didn’t want her to think of him differently. To associate him with her past in any way. She thought back to when they’d been fighting over that pillow and he made the wrong move. Is that why he was so scared? He didn’t want to do that again? 

She took the last few steps toward him until she was only inches away. “Even if that happens, Harry, I won’t think of you any differently. You don’t think of me any differently, do you?” 

He shook his head immediately, but it seemed as if his words were caught on his tongue now too as his eyes began to glass over. 

“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” She began again, reaching her hand up to wipe away the wetness underneath his eye when the panicking tear had finally escaped. “You’re not him.” 

He nodded, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment and when he opened them again, they weren’t as full of sadness and anxiety. “I know, but what if I--” 

She pressed her thumb against his lips and he stopped talking. “You won’t. I do want you too, you know.” 

When he laughed, she made it a point to remember his smile because it seemed like she’d been going without it recently for way too long. She glanced up at his eyes when the noise faded, just before pulling him into her arms. 

She wasn’t much of a hugger, but she supposed it was just another thing about her that Harry had managed to dismantle. Or maybe it was her all this time, breaking down all of her own comfort zones with a little bit of his help along the way. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck at first, breathing her in as he wrapped his arms around her too and brought her closer. 

“Maybe we can try tonight?” He whispered softly after a moment, his lips at her ear. 

“At my place?”

He shrugged, “We’re going to tell them, aren’t we?”

There was the other thing they hadn’t discussed yet. 

“What exactly would we say if we did?” She asked.

Harry thought about it for a moment, burying his face again before resting his chin on her shoulder. “They don’t have to know everything.”

She shook both of them laughing, “That still doesn’t answer my question.” 

He pulled back from her embrace until he was able to look into her eyes again. “We can just tell them we’ve been seeing each other. And that I asked you to be my girlfriend.” 

She didn’t want a big, cheesy smile to flood her entire face, but her mouth completely betrayed her. “I don’t recall you ever asking me that...” 

“I’m asking you now... will you?” 

Y/N also hated labeling things. But being Harry’s girlfriend was an exception she’d more than allow. 

“I guess.” She rolled her eyes dramatically like she didn’t actually care as much as she did. It was her thing though and she never failed to make Harry laugh, so he’d allow that too. 

“I guess,” he parroted, in a higher-pitched tone to mock her playfully. “I guess we’re dating now then and I guess I’ll come over and have sex with you too.” 

She didn’t love him any more than she did at that moment. 

After making out in the kitchen while they unsuccessfully made waffles, and after going through Starbucks instead and eating in the front seat of his car while watching the freeway, it was past two o’clock and her nerves were on fire thinking about making it home before Will did. 

She still wasn’t sure about telling everyone, and how that might change things with Harry, so as far as she was concerned, she was keeping it a secret until she was absolutely sure she no longer wanted it to be. 

So after lazing around with Harry on his bed for the rest of the afternoon, he drove her home. 

And six o’clock came a lot slower than it ever had. Will got home around five-thirty, giving Y/N plenty of time to make her room look lived in and for her to start some laundry. And change her clothes so that every inch of her didn’t ooze Harry. 

Violet and James arrived shortly after, Violet because she’d recently been going home on the weekends to take care of her grandma and James because he was James and didn’t spend much time at the apartment anyway. But also because he had his own weekend getaway with his girlfriend. 

Y/N joined them when she smelled Chinese takeout. 

Will pulled her against his side, draping his arm around her shoulder, once she was close enough. “I know we all work tomorrow but I really needed to just hang out tonight after everything. So thanks for being here... even though yall live here.” 

Violet began digging into the containers as Will pulled his arm away from Y/N to do the same just before a lightbulb went off in his head, “Oh, I also invited Harry and he said he’d come, but,” Will checked his watch, “he’s late.” 

Y/N glanced at the clock on the stove to confirm it. He was late. By almost ten minutes. She hadn’t realized the time until now even though it had been the only thing on her mind all day. 

Her appetite plummeted when she started worrying about why he was late. Eight minutes wasn’t anything to lose her mind over, she knew that, but considering what they’d discussed earlier, she began to think that he was, for lack of a better term, chickening out. 

He was thirteen minutes late when he finally arrived, blaming it on the fact that he didn’t think about bringing anything until he was already halfway to their apartment and then made a quick stop. When he pulled out a bag of Hershey Kisses and set them in front of Y/N on the counter, however, she forgave him for the five minutes he made her spend worrying. 

He also brought two bottles of wine and a family-sized bag of spicy Doritios with him too. So it was officially a party. 

Everyone took their food to the dining table and Y/N tried not to make it obvious she was headed straight for the seat beside Harry. They’d never sat not on opposite sides, but they’d also never been officially dating either. 

The opportunity to spill everything never really came the way Y/N would have liked it to. And, sure, she was using that as her excuse, but Violet was also extremely chatty, more than usual. 

After a couple minutes, when they’d all already made a dent in their meals, Y/N tuned everyone out and got lost in her head. Her right hand rested on her thigh while she twirled chow-mein around her fork with the other. She knew Harry would never do it for her, unless she explicitly asked him to, and seeing as she hadn’t done that beforehand, telling her roommates was solely up to her. And she didn’t have the balls to do that yet. 

She felt his fingers brush against hers under the table and it brought her out of her reprieve, even more so when Harry wrapped his hand completely around hers, lacing their fingers on top of her leg and giving her a gentle squeeze. 

Glancing at him, however, he pretended like nothing was happening under the table at all as he continued eating and never once met her eyes. He just wanted her to know that she didn’t have to say anything if she didn’t want to, and he was okay no matter what she decided. With his hand still firmly around hers, it was enough reassurance to actually eat the noodles she’d been absently playing with. 

A loud snore rang through the living room just moments before Will rolled over on his side and his back faced the only two people still awake. Her other two roommates already retreated to their bedrooms once the movie ended, but Will hadn’t made it that far. He had passed out about halfway through and, apart from a few seconds ago, hadn’t made a sound or moved the entire time since. 

It was nearing nine o’clock when Y/N took herself and her big fluffy blanket to Harry’s couch, sitting right beside him as she covered both of them in it and cuddled into his side. She’d wanted to do it since she was forced into a spot nowhere near him, but considering her inability to tell her roommates about her and Harry, she had to suffer through the entire movie sitting next to Violet. 

Now, however, she wasted no time getting comfortable and neither did he. Sure, she still glanced over at Will a lot, just to make sure, but she also wouldn’t mind too much if he woke up and found them together. 

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so that she was using his chest as a pillow while they watched what was left of a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air episode. He gave her a suspicious look when he heard crinkling coming from underneath the blanket, but his questions were answered when her hand poked out from underneath and she held a Hershey’s kiss right in front of his lips. Grinning, he opened his mouth and let her pop the piece of candy in. She was still just as weird as she always was and he was still just as in love with it and with her. 

But when she pushed up to connect their mouths, after giving Will another quick glance, he was positive she just wanted him to taste like chocolate when she kissed him. He didn’t really care that much though, he’d wanted to kiss her all night anyway. 

It went from an innocent, soft kiss to something deeper a lot faster than either of them intended. It suddenly became the way they kissed each other only when no one else was around, and yet they were doing it right in the middle of her apartment, where Violet could walk out and see them or Will could turn over and catch them. And she suddenly just... didn't really care. 

But then Harry’s hand was on her thigh, his fingertips trailing north someplace they’d already explored before and she quickly grabbed his wrist in a gasp and broke away from him. “Can we try now?” She whispered. 

He looked terrified but he still nodded, he still followed as she pulled them both up from the couch, as she laced her fingers with his and led the way to her bedroom. Even though his nerves were on fire, he still closed the door behind them when she was far too concerned with attaching their lips again. He was thankful for it, though, when she pushed him against the door and a gasping noise came out of him that might’ve woken everyone in the apartment if her mouth hadn’t muffled it. 

“Do you have um...? Because I don't...” She whispered, pulling away but keeping her eyes glued to his lips. Overthinking every little detail about this very moment had become her pastime earlier in the day, and amongst stressing about whether or not Harry would let her keep the lights off, she worried about protection and her lack thereof. She never really needed it and hoped Harry was more prepared than she was. 

His hand slipped from her face to his front pocket where he dug out two condoms and held them up to her. “I didn't go to the store to buy your favorite candy... realized when I was about two minutes away that I didn’t bring any.” 

It oddly soothed her nerves that he went out of his way to get them. That he could have come here without them and use that as another reason not to sleep with her. He was, most definitely not, chickening out. 

She took them from him and ventured further into her room, leaving him with his back pressed against the door, watching her curiously as she set the condoms down on her bedside table and flipped her lamp off that she’d left on from earlier. 

“Is that okay?” She asked and even though his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness engulfing them, he could still tell she’d turned to face him again. Slowly, he stepped up to her, making out her features when he was close enough to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“Whatever makes you comfortable is always okay, Y/N.” He felt her smile with his thumb pressed to her cheek more than he saw it, especially when it disappeared as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and made room between them again as she pulled it over her head. 

He sucked in a breath of air watching her, the dim light annoyed him, but her needs came first, way before his own selfish need to see her properly did. Maybe one day she’d be fine with that, but he respected that right now she wasn’t. 

It didn’t matter when he felt her fingertips glide down his arms until she wrapped them around his wrists and pulled his hands up to her waist. Maybe one day he’d touch her without her guiding him, too. 

They had all the time in the world to get it right, he supposed. 

His hands slipped up her sides, his thumbs grazing the underwire of her bra, having no idea if she was okay with taking it off. It escaped his mind when she moved her hands from his wrists to her jeans and before she even got the button undone, his hands came over the top of hers, gently pushing her aside so he could at least do one thing himself. 

Her heart raced while he slowly undid the zip and then tucked his fingers under the band at her hips, tugging her jeans off. As soon as he had them down to her thighs, she sat on the edge of her bed, gripping his shoulder for support as he slid them off and into the pile with her shirt.    

It quickly gained a couple more pieces of fabric as he pulled his own shirt off and she dealt with his pants, too. Soon enough, they were on the same playing field and he gained a bit more courage as he kissed her again, slowly laying her back on the bed and bringing his knee up to the mattress next to her for better leverage. 

He had no idea if he was going too fast or too slow, but he trusted her to tell him if it was too much. 

So when she pressed her hands flat onto his chest and pushed him away, he nearly had a heart attack. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, seeing the outline of both confusion and terror on his face, “can we get under the blanket? I’m cold.” 

There was no subtlety in the way he sighed, relieved she hadn’t pushed him away for the other reasons he had feared. He whispered, “Okay,” against her lips and moved. Standing away from her, he gave her room to crawl under the covers, maneuvering the pillows under her head until she was comfortable and then folded the blanket over to invite him in. 

Despite it being objectively chilly in their apartment, Harry didn’t exactly share her concerns. His body temperature just seemed to increase the closer he got to her, reaching an all-time high when he got back into bed with her and she wasted no time picking up where they left off. 

His skin burned everywhere she touched him. When she gripped his biceps and just about forced him back on top of her, when her fingertips traced over his butterfly tattoo in a way he was familiar with. When her hands finally settled at the back of his neck and she played with the ends of his hair while they kissed. 

He took some of the lead again, moving so that he settled between her legs and reached his hand down to her thigh to let her know it was okay to wrap herself around him. And when they were that close, it was easy to feel just how hot Harry had gotten. 

And when she felt him, there was no stopping the moan that escaped from her lips, even though she had no idea where it came from. It almost sounded foreign, like Harry had been the one moaning, not her, but unless he knew how to throw his voice, she knew that it was most definitely not him that made that ungodly sound. 

Smiling against her mouth, he pressed his hips into her a little more and they both rather quickly warmed up to the idea of having fewer layers between them already. 

While he kissed her and while his hands wandered, particularly to her chest, she reached over and blindly sought out the condoms, her fingers traveling along the wooden top of her nightstand a few frustrating moments until she finally grazed the foil packaging. And then she tucked them right into Harry’s hand. 

He took the hint, although hesitantly, and sat back on his knees. While he tore along the perforation to separate the two he brought--just in case--she sat in restless anticipation, admiring the way what little light there was reflected off his skin. She thought about being with him like this way too often, more than she’d ever admit to him. She thought about his shoulders and his arms that spent the past month holding her so innocently and how much she wished she had other memories that involved his arms. But, now, here she was, tracing the curves of his muscles all the way down to where he was currently preoccupied. 

And well... shit.

Harry was anything but small. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, only glancing at her while most of his focus remained on sliding the condom on himself, but he could still tell she’d tensed up a bit. 

Swallowing, her eyes flickered towards his face again. “It’s probably obvious but um... I’ve never actually... besides...” 

That seemed to do the trick of putting his entire focus straight on her as his fingers froze in place and his nostrils flared. She couldn’t quite tell if it was in a bad way or not yet, not until he opened his mouth. 

“If you don’t want to--” 

“No. I do.” 

He nodded slightly, fitting the condom on all the way finally and sighed, “I’ll be careful, I promise.” 

Before he made any of the moves towards her that she desperately wanted him to, he slipped himself out of his boxers and joined them with their mixed pile of clothes. She couldn’t quite tell which she enjoyed more, his jeans on her floor or her dress on his. 

Right when she thought he was coming back to kiss her, he instead spread himself down the length of the bed and settled his shoulders between her legs, not at all unlike he had last night. He worked a lot quicker though, possibly because he knew he’d made her wait long enough and because he was also sick of waiting. But, making sure she was more than ready for him was currently at the top of his priorities list. 

He tucked his index finger underneath her panties and pulled them to the side, causing her to squirm in a way he was already used to. Holding her down, he made himself at home all over again. She was already wet, that much he knew, but it didn’t take long before she turned into a puddle around his fingertips and he figured there was no point in waiting any longer. 

Fitting his hips back between her legs, he kissed her cheek softly and then brushed his lips past her ear. “I need you to tell me if you want to stop, okay? Don’t let me keep going if you don’t want to.” 

The bubbling pressure in her stomach got so bad it made her dizzy, but she loved every second of it because he was making her feel that way. Although, it did concern her when he hadn’t even really done anything yet and she was already that much of a mess for him. 

She nodded when he came back to look into her eyes, eyes that he got lost in one too many times. He didn’t see them all that clearly now, but just enough shone through the darkness to assure him that she would do what he asked. 

His lips were at her mouth next, kissing her softly as his hand disappeared under the covers between them until she felt him pushing her legs further apart, slipping her panties out of the way again. And then it really was him moaning when he guided himself almost painfully slowly inside of her. She dug her nails into his back and kissed him harder to subside the pain of him stretching her out but never once did she want him to stop. 

He did, however, when she gasped and he felt her tensing up around him, making it impossible for him to go any further even if he wanted to. 

He pulled his lips away and used his free hand to swipe loose strands of hair from her face, “Need me to stop?” 

“No, just...” she sighed, not wanting to admit what she was about to admit, knowing it would possibly freak him out, but she felt like she had to, “you’re kind of abnormally... big and it hurts a little.” 

The little smirk on his face lasted for about half a second and before he could say anything, she cut him off just as he opened his mouth. “But I don’t want you to stop.” 

Sighing, he adjusted his weight on top of her, “You have to relax then, Y/N. It’ll hurt worse if you don’t and I don’t want that.” 

Nodding, she knew he was right and she knew he wasn’t doing anything else until she did. So, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, inhaling deep and exhaling all of her doubts and her worries. Once he felt her body start to unwind itself again, he got right back to it. Until he was muffling the noise coming out of his mouth as he filled her up as far as he could until finally bottoming out. 

He stayed there for a moment, contemplating on telling her how good she felt. Good didn’t even begin to cover it though. He couldn’t even think of the right word. Hell, he couldn't even think straight to begin with. She took him right back to that summery day on the beach again in his head. She was warm like the bright sun reflecting off the waves. Soft like the sand under his fingertips. He could stay there for hours. 

Instead, he only stayed there for a few more moments, until he was confident she was somewhat accustomed to him and then he did it all over again. Using his hips to slide out and then right back into her only a smidge faster this time. She still gasped into his mouth, still dug her fingernails into his skin, but she had completely let go this time. 

A few more times exactly like that and then she was in his ear, pleading with him to, “please go faster, I’m okay. Just... please Harry.” 

He did as she asked almost immediately, picking up the pace with each and every thrust as she continued to beg him to go faster. It wasn’t until he adjusted his weight, his arms cramping in their current position, that he was able to get a little deeper, that she moaned so loud he had to clamp his hand down over her mouth before she woke up not only her roommates, but the entire floor. If they were at his house, he would have let her scream all she wanted and he would’ve basked in it too because he already knew it took a lot to get anything out of her. So hearing her now turned him on more than ever before--if that were possible. 

He grinned cockily as he continued to hit the same spot that made her moan in the first place, and that continued to make her eyes roll back in her head. “Feels good?” He asked, his voice shaky with his motions and she just nodded, still with her eyes closed and his hand over her mouth. Giggling, he slipped his hand away and kissed her again. 

It didn’t take too long, but they were both close to losing all control in a matter of seconds when she wrapped a hand around his bicep and asked him to stop. And he did, straight away without a second thought, pulling out and searching her face to make sure she was alright. 

Her eyes were still fluttered shut as she breathed heavily through her mouth, but once she finally found her words, they came out as a self-conscious whisper. “Can I get on top?” 

It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable, per se. Overwhelmed was a better description. And when she was overwhelmed, her mind liked to kick into overdrive. Maybe she’d asked too much of Harry too soon, or it was the fact that she couldn’t keep her eyes open, but she knew she’d just feel better if she was the one with more control again. 

He nodded, “Sure.” Even though he was a lot more into the idea than he was letting on. He had no clue she’d be into riding him or they might’ve been doing that all along. It didn’t matter now though, as he held her close to support her weight and flipped them over so that he was on his back now and she straddled his waist. 

He kicked off as much of the blanket as he could from his legs while she made sure it was firmly wrapped around herself and he helped as she fit him back into place, nearly slipping off the edge early when he felt her fingers on him for the first time. 

And then they were picking up where they left off, but it felt a million times more amazing, again, if that were even possible. His hands slipped down to her waist, digging his fingers in and guiding her. He couldn’t quite help the way his hips bucked up into her when she didn’t go fast enough, but he also didn’t want to make her do something she didn’t want to do. So he dealt with it, bit down on his lip until he nearly drew blood, and sunk into her pillows with his eyebrows pulled tight. Because, fuck, she felt amazing but also, fuck, he wanted so much more. 

She planted her hands right on top of the butterfly, feeling how slick his skin was with sweat and not being as insecure about her own on her forehead. She felt his leg twitch from underneath her while she rode him, knowing she wasn’t doing enough, not at all like he’d been doing. But the new position made her feel so much better and watching him writhing below her was oddly satisfying. 

“Shit,” he whined suddenly, his eyes peeking out at her only briefly before his head fell back again. “Come’ere, please.” His begging came with his hands slipping up her belly and around to her back until she was laying on top of him, wrapping her arms up under his neck as she shared some of the control with him again. 

His fingers were back at her hips within a millisecond, thrusting up into her this time just as quickly as he’d gone when their roles were reversed. She buried her head in the crook of his neck after kissing him when she could no longer hold on. When neither of them could. When he was gasping for air and she was nearly tearing his hair out, whispering how much she loved him in his ear as he took them both up to the clouds. 

His hips stopped, slamming against her as he buried himself deep again and came just as she did, having to muffle his moans into her shoulder while tears stung his eyes and he had no fucking idea he was crying until she lifted herself to look at him and wiped at his cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” She whispered. He hadn’t even pulled out of her yet and he was fucking crying. 

Lifting his own hand to his face, while the other one remained on her hip, he hid in embarrassment, trying to make his stupid reaction go away. He’d never cried before and wasn’t sure why he was now. 

“Hey,” she pouted, pulling at his wrist to get him to stop. He looked at her through glassy eyes while she held onto his hand, kissing the back of it to calm him down. 

“Sorry. I... don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay." She assured. "If it’s any consolation, I like you even more now.” 

When he laughed, she became all too aware again that he was still very much inside of her. “Even though I cry after having sex?” 

She shrugged, “You’re only human, right?” 

They laid in their same old ways, with him on his back, her curled into his side and his arm firmly around her shoulders, twirling her hair around his fingers, for a few peaceful minutes afterward. That was until the knock on her door that pulled them both from their bubble and filled their heads with a million different worries. The most prominent being that they’d been too loud and woke someone up. There really was no way of explaining themselves out of that. 

Y/N cleared her throat and jolted up to the edge of her bed, facing the door. “One second.” 

She located her shirt on the floor quickly, throwing it over her head in a panic when the only thing on her mind was what excuse she would be using. Stepping up to the door, she took a deep breath and brushed her hair down, praying that this was not how her roommates found out, when she could still feel Harry inside her and her cheeks were still flushed. 

She turned the knob and cracked the door open just far enough to peek out, in almost the exact same way she had the first time she was forced to hide the fact that Harry was in her bed. 

Will stood on the other side, yawning with squinted eyes and slouched shoulders. It was obvious he’d just woken up and she prayed a second time it wasn’t because he heard the noises coming from her room. 

“Hey, uh, sorry for knocking out, I didn’t get much sleep this weekend.” He yawned again and she sighed in relief. “Did Harry leave already?” 

“Uh—“ She started but when she saw the way Will’s brows twisted in confusion as he glanced down the front of her, she was quickly cut off. 

“Isn’t that his shirt?”

She glanced behind her just in time to find Harry hiding his face in his hands. Shit.

She was fucked. There was no explaining it, at least not in any way that Will would ever believe. She stupidly put Harry's graphic tee on instead of her own and there was no going back from it.

Will’s hand came to the door and he pushed it open when she continued to remain quiet. He got it open just far enough to find Harry perched against her pillows, shirtless and flashing him a deer in headlights kind of look as he slipped his hands down his face. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Shh!” She pressed her hand to Will’s chest, begging him to be quiet. It was bad enough him finding out this way, she didn’t need anyone else waking up right now either. 

“You lied to me.” He accused, eyes still wide and in disbelief but he kept his voice down this time. “How long has this been going on?” 

She couldn’t tell if he was more angry or upset and hurt, but either way she didn’t like it. “I’m sorry.” 

Will’s eyes fell back on her and he grew even more distressed, “How long, Y/N?” 

Out of fear more than anything else, she responded honestly and sheepishly. “Couple months we’ve been seeing each other.” 

“Two months?” Will repeated, taking a step closer and forcing Y/N back into her room so that he could get a good look at Harry. “All those fucking songs were about my goddamn roommate? You’ve been going behind my back and lying to me all this fucking time?” 

“Will.” She tried to get him to calm down again. 

“Don’t Will me. I knew there was something going on after that party but you told me you didn’t like him. What the fuck, Y/N?” 

She cringed, hoping Harry would have never had to find out about what she told Will to convince him their reckless partying was only just that. Meaningless, when it was, in fact, not. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, both to Will and to Harry, when she glanced back at him again to find his eyes glued to his hands instead of the mess at her door. Then she brought her attention back to Will, “I was going to tell you, but I didn’t know how.” 

Will’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. “I mean, a simple, ‘hey I’m sleeping with your best friend, is that cool?’ would have sufficed.” 

She pulled her lips into her mouth and bit down on them, not wanting to add any fuel to the fire by correcting him. Will’s idea of them sleeping together was most definitely not their own, but she supposed Will didn’t need to know the whole truth.    

“God!” Will continued, but still not being loud enough to wake anyone, “This is why you didn’t care about me leaving you at his house the other night?” 

Her silence answered that question more than enough. 

“Jesus,” Will ran his hand down his chin but it did seem like he was finally calming down. “Shit, well sorry for interrupting. Me and yall are gonna have a chat tomorrow though when I’m not half-asleep.” 

Y/N nodded eagerly, perfectly okay with that as long as he was no longer angry at them.

“But Harry,” Will backtracked and stressed Y/N out again, “I know you both already fucked with each other’s feelings, but if you hurt her again, I will kill you.”

Harry swallowed, finding not a single ounce of insincerity in Will’s threat and so he nodded obediently, not that he had any intentions of ever hurting Y/N again. 

“Fuck, okay,” Will huffed, “goodnight, then.” Reluctantly, he left, giving them one last look over his shoulder like he still didn’t believe it, and like they were both actually insane, but, finally, he was gone. And after she watched him saunter off down the hall to his bedroom, she closed the door and locked it for good measure. 

It was quiet in her room for a long time, or what felt like a long time anyways. The giant elephant Will had left between them made her refrain from turning around and looking at Harry without having something prepared to say to him. 

He said it first, however.

“You told him you didn't like me?” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, took a moment to catch her breath, and then turned. And he looked just as heartbroken as she imagined he would. “It was a while ago. He asked me if there was something going on between us after he saw us dancing at that party. What was I supposed to say?” 

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Anything would have been better than that.” 

“Are you mad at me?” She whispered, praying that he wasn’t because she couldn’t handle what just happened with Will and Harry being upset with her too. 

His eyes shot back to hers in a heartbeat, “No.” Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair, “I get why you said it.” 

“I know this is an understatement, but I don’t really know how to express my feelings very well, Harry. I did like you back then, more than I should have. And I do love you now, more than I know what to do with.” 

That seemed to settle his worries when his lips spread into the slightest bit of a smile. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag then.” 

She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, unable to conceal her grin especially not when they found each other’s gazes and a moment later he pulled the blanket back to invite her in this time. 

“Guess the cat should get her ass back over here now.” 

Once she was there, in his arms again, all feelings of insecurity and doubt washed away, it felt like home. Especially when he pressed his lips to her forehead and whispered something she’d never get sick of hearing coming out of his mouth. 

“I guess I love you too.” 

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