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imaginespazzi · 4 months ago

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Part 10: The Bridges Burned Around Us

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

Be good to me, and I'll be good to you (but please don't be too good to be true)

(In which an apologetic writer finally finishes a chapter that took much longer than necessary)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 10.2K (seems fitting for chapter 10 lol)

TW: Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies :) I am so incredibly late with this I know but considering it's really the length of two chapters, I think I should be forgiven. Despite how long this took me, I don't really know how I feel about this chapter because it's both filler but also pretty important so honestly it does feel a little all over the place. But I hope y'all like it anyways. I do suggest quickly skimming over Part 2 before you read this just to jog your memory a little bit. I did edit as I always do but there's probably typos/mistakes, so feel free to point those out. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a wonderful weekend my loves <3

May 2033

“What the hell Bueckers?” Coach yells, glaring daggers at Paige who has the audacity to at least look a little embarrassed as she reaches a hand to help the rookie she’d just knocked over with far too much unnecessary force. Azzi narrows her eyes at the scene, confused at Paige’s atypical behavior. It wasn’t uncommon for the vets to rib the rookies a little bit, hell they had a whole ragging initiation ceremony planned for this weekend to welcome the newest members of their team, but Paige seemed to have a personal vendetta against Angie Davis.

When they’d watched the draft together, Azzi could’ve seen sworn she’d seen a flash of uncomfortableness flicker in Paige’s eyes as the commissioner announced that the Valkyries, with their third pick acquired via Atlanta, were picking Angie Davis from Stanford University. The blonde had stiffened but only for a split second and Azzi had chalked it up to nothing because really, what beef could Paige possibly have with a 22 year old? Except clearly something was bothering the Minnesota native because this is the fifth time today itself that Paige has fouled the girl so hard that her body had almost slightly bounced as it hit the floor.

The first time, everyone had found it amusing because who didn’t laugh at a rookie getting a taste of the league. The second time, Coach had rolled her eyes but the rest of the team had still found it pretty funny. And then as it continued, Azzi could tell her teammates were just as confused by Paige’s behavior as she was. They might not know the blonde as well as Azzi did, but in the last month or so they’d discover that the basketball superstar was really just a ball of golden retriever energy. Since they’d started training camp recently, they’d seen that Paige always practiced hard but she also had the time of her life doing it. They’d seen that she might practically bulldoze her teammates in her eagerness to be a good defender but she’d always be the first one to help pick them up with a teasing grin on her face right after. Except apparently not with Angie. With Angie, there was nothing but brute force and the first couple of times, before Coach’s clear irritation had started to seep onto her face, Paige hadn’t even bothered helping the rookie up. And although Azzi would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that a part of her found this aggressive display of strength just a tad bit attractive, she also knew it was completely unlike her Paige to be acting like this.

“So,” she says softly, lowering her voice purposefully as she sidles up to Paige in the locker room after practice, “are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” there’s a smirk on Paige’s face as she takes a step closer towards Azzi.

The brunette narrows her eyes, “you know what.”

“What I know,” Paige whispers as she ghosts her hands across Azzi’s hips, keeping her movement innocuous as to not alert their other teammates who are engrossed in conversation not too far away from them, “is that I’m pretty sure you’re just looking for a way to get close to me.”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” but she can’t stop the faint blush that’s creeping up her cheeks as Paige’s hot breath fans across her face and her gaze shifts to the blonde’s sweat sheened biceps that are on fully display under her flimsy tank top.

Paige notices it immediately as her smirk widens, “appreciating the view baby?”

“Shut up,” Azzi shoves her back lightly, “don’t try and distract me.”

“‘I’m not even trying. I just have that effect on you,” Paige shrugs coyly as she pushes herself back into Azzi’s space.

The brunette’s eyes dart over to her teammate for a brief second, making sure the rest of them are still occupied with their own conversations as she takes her own step towards the blue-eyed woman, the edges of her lips turning up into a smug grin when she hears Paige’s breath hitch, “and what about the effect I have on you?”

There’s something thrilling about hiding this from their team, something sexy about having to keep their hands to themselves when they’re constantly desperate to touch. It was torture in a way, having Paige so close and not being able to kiss her or hold her. But that only meant that when Azzi did finally get to do all of those things, it felt like finally coming up for air; like after being deprived of her oxygen for so long, she could finally breathe.

Last time around, they’d kept it a secret from the world but everyone who meant something to them had known. Their old teammates for one. This time, especially since they hadn’t quite defined what this was, they’d chosen to keep it even closer to their chests. It had been Paige’s idea this time and Azzi thinks maybe she’d proposed it just to beat the brunette to the punch-maybe she’d even been a little disappointed by it- but she thinks that they probably do need a little more time; a little more time to trust that this time they wouldn’t go up in flames, that they wouldn’t burn everyone else around them.

“You don’t- you don’t have any effect on me,” Paige stutters.

“Is that right?” Azzi asks coyly, taking her shirt off at a ridiculous slow pace, enjoying the way blonde’s eyes are immediately drawn towards her toned abs, “none at all?”

“N-no,” Paige gulps as she watches the brunette finally get rid of the offending t-shirt and she’s left in nothing but a sports bra that does little to hide the curves underneath.

“Appreciating the view baby?” Azzi smirks, repeating the older woman’s words from before she slyly runs her index finger across the purplish red hues of a hickey Paige had left on her collarbone from the night before.

“You’re so-”

“Bueckers,” a loud voice interrupts Paige’s groan as the two of them spring apart, everyone in the room turning to look at their Coach leaning against the doorframe, “in my office. Now.”

It feels a little bit like they’re college students being reprimanded again but there’s this nagging intuition in Azzi’s gut, as she watched Paige sheepishly follow Coach into her office, that she’s missing out on some important information. Something churns in her stomach at the thought of it. Things had been near perfect so far; they were climbing back up to what they had been, maybe climbing their way to something better but Azzi thinks that if another gust of circumstance tries to shove them down again, they might not be able to get back up this time. Because this time, they’re not climbing alone. This time, they have Stephie and at the end of the day, she’s all that matters.

“So is Paige’s car broken or something?” Tessa’s question catches Azzi off guard as she shakes herself out of head and looks at her teammate with confusion.

“Uh no why?”

“I mean it’s just every time she shows up somewhere, it seems she’s in your car, with you. So I just figured something must be up with her car, why else would y’all be carpooling literally every single day unless-” there’s a sparkle in Tessa’s eyes as she leans casually against her locks, “unless there’s another reason?”

“What other reason could there be?” Azzi’s voice is unusually high-pitched as she avoids Tessa’s perceptive eyes and instead glares daggers at a spluttering Jana, “her car’s in the shop. That’s it. That’s definitely it. That’s the only reason I’m driving her around.”

“Aw that sucks,” Laila says with an oblivious empathetic smile, “I mean we could help out if that’s the case? With carpooling.”

“I don’t think-”

“What a lovely idea Phelia,” Tessa smirks and Azzi knows just by how guileful it is, that the former Gamecock is absolutely onto them, “what do you think Azzi? Maybe we can make a little chart for who drives Paige to practice huh? Be welcoming to our teammate?”

Resisting the urge to flip off both Tessa and Jana whose shoulders are shaking with laughter, Azzi settles on a sugary sweet smile instead, “I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Oh we’d be happy to help,” Tessa chirps happily and Azzi’s suddenly wistful for the moment back in her senior year when she’d dropped the South Carolina guard for an easy layup.

“And that’s very kind of y’all but,” she reaches over to squeeze the younger girl’s shoulder tightly, making her grunt in discomfort, “I think Paige is okay. It just works better if it’s one person. Less complications, you know?”

“Won’t somebody please think about the complications,” Jana snickers.

“I’m so confused,” Laila says, a frown on her face as she looks weirdly at her teammates.

“It’s nothing,” Azzi says shrilly as she slings both her and Paige’s bags on her shoulders, rolling her eyes when both Jana and Tessa giggle at the domesticity of the action, “don’t worry about it, Phelia.”

“Y’all are acting strange,” Laila shrugs as she starts to make her way out of the locker room and Azzi’s rounds on the other two women.

“Whatever you think you know Tess,” Azzi raises a finger in warning, “keep it to yourself.”

Tessa makes a point to make a zipping motion across her lips as her eyes glimmer with mischief.

“Thank god,” Jana gasps dramatically, “I was so tired of having to deal with these two all by myself. Do you know how hard it is Tess? I’ve been doing it for YEARS.”

“You poor soul,” Tessa coos, “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you. They’re kind of disgusting.”

“You peeped that already? Damn Azzi, do you realize how sickening y’all must be for Tessa to have already figured it out?”

“No forreal,” Tessa teases, “if you don’t want people catching onto your shit, I suggest y’all stop eyefucking every other second.”

“Fuck all the way off. Both of you,” Azzi grunts as Jana practically howls with laughter.

“You kiss your daughter with that mouth Fudd?”

“I dunno about Stephie,” Tessa drops her voice so only Jana and Azzi can hear her, “but I bet she kisses Paige with that mouth huh Az?”

Azzi groans, hiding her bright red face in her hands as her teammates' jovial laughter echoes through the locker room.

***

Paige is eerily quiet as she climbs into the passenger seat and Azzi knows immediately by the way she doesn’t try to coax her way into driving, that whatever conversation she’d had with Coach, likely hadn’t been a pleasant one. There are a thousand and one questions taking birth in her mind but Azzi doesn’t voice any of them, knowing Paige isn’t ready to answer them. Instead, she laces her fingers through Paige’s, resting them on the other girl's lap as she rubs a soothing circle against the back of her hand, a promise of whenever you’re ready to share, i’ll be ready to listen.

They’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, one driven by that fact Paige has practically moved into Azzi’s house at this point. Their day started with them dropping Stephie off at school before the two of them would go to training or practice or whatever basketball activities they had planned. Then, they’d go to pick up Stephie from school and Azzi would drop her and Paige off at Curry camp while she ran various errands before circling back to pick them up. It’s domestic as hell and there’s a part of Azzi that’s still a little fearful; perhaps they’re trying to fit the puzzle pieces of their separate lives into each other a little too quickly. But she thinks that maybe those puzzle pieces had never really been disconnected, because sometimes she thinks their existence might just be an extension of each other’s.

“You know,” Azzi begins softly when it becomes abundantly clear Paige isn’t going to speak first, “I’m okay with the fact that you’ve probably fucked other people. I mean other than the woman you married as well that is.”

“What the fuck?” Paige’s head whips towards her so quick, it must hurt just a little bit, “where the fuck did that come from?”

Azzi shrugs, “I’m just saying-”

“Why are you just saying?” Paige's eyes widen in panic as she possessively tightens her grip on the brunette’s hand, “are you about to tell me about someone you hooked up with? Because I’mma be honest Azzi I’d rather jump out of this moving car then hear about some whore who had the audacity-”

“Audacity? You do realize I was-”

“Say you were single and I actually will jump out of the car,” Paige warns, “but no actually dude what the fuck?”

“Well you see,” Azzi says carefully, “I’m trying to figure out why you’re being such a bitch to our new rookie and after careful deliberation, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s gotta be a hookup gone wrong because why the fuck else would Paige Bueckers, who has a hard time killing a spider, be so unnecessarily mean to this poor girl?”

There’s silence in the car for a second as Paige opens and closes her mouth, unable to get a word out, until she doubles over laughing, the sound of it echoing all around them. Azzi can’t help the soft grin that flitters across her face, relieved at seeing the way the tension begins to dissipate from the blonde’s shoulders. And Azzi swears that when Paige laughs, it feels a little bit like the sun has come out again; like the flowers are blooming and birds are chirping and everything is right in the world again and she thinks the sun should probably be jealous of the warmth Paige exudes because at least against the silhouette of Azzi’s sky, Paige burns brighter than the sun ever will.

“You-you think I fucked Angie?” Paige finally manages to splutter out between peals of laughs, “baby she’s barely 22.”

“Hey,” Azzi pouts, “you always did go for younger women. Like me for example.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “you’re literally one year younger than me.”

“One year and a couple of days,” Azzi corrects.

Rolling her eyes Paige uses both hands to hold Azzi’s non-driving one, “Azzi I swear to you that I have never in my life hooked up with Angie fucking Davis.”

“I know,” Azzi confesses, eyes still focused on the road ahead of her, “so what exactly is your problem with her then Paige?”

“You couldn’t have just asked me that?”

Azzi shrugs, “felt like I needed to make you laugh first. So tell me Bueckers-” before she can continue, she feels lips being pressed to her cheeks and can’t help the crimson tinge it elicits on her face, “what- what was that for?”

“Because you’re a little bit of a sap and I’m glad you’re my sap,” Paige grins, “all mine.”

“You’re trying to change the topic.”

“I am not.”

“Paige.”

The blonde sighs, leaning her head back against the headrest, “can we talk about it tonight? I wanna tell you I promise- I just- I think we need to sit down so that I- I can explain it to you properly.”

“That feels ominous,” Azzi’s stomach clenches at the seriousness in Paige’s voice as she turns onto the street for Stephie’s school, “should I be worried?”

“No,” Paige says firmly, bringing their enclosed hands to her mouth so she can brush a kiss across Azzi’s knuckles, “it’s nothing we can’t get through.”

Azzi nods as she pulls into the school parking lot, mustering up a reassuring smile of her own as she squeezes Paige’s hand. But there’s still a speck of fear dancing around in her gut; it’s this constant fear of losing Paige again that she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly be able to sweep out of her system. They’ve been doing so good these last few weeks -like they’re collecting together the scattered pages of everything we used to be and binding them back together with strings of all that we can become- but sometimes Azzi finds herself afraid that it might all just disappear, that a gust of wind might blow everything out of her hands all over again.

“HI MAMA. HI MISS BUECKS,” she’s shaken from her thoughts by the backdoor opening as Stephie barrels into the car, the happiness in her voice contagious as she leans over the console to kiss Azzi and then Paige, before hanging between them and tapping at her own cheeks. The two adults laugh as they simultaneously press their lips to the little girl's cheeks, causing her dimples to deepen as she giggles between them.

“How was school Stephie-bean?” Paige asks, peering over her own shoulder to make sure Stephie buckles herself in correctly as Azzi backs the car out.

Stephie scrunches up her nose is distaste, “it’s school Miss Buecks. It was so boring. Except for lunch. Lunch was great. I love lunch.”

“You’re so real Steph,” Paige nods seriously, “lunch is the best and school is so bor-”

“Paige!”

“C’mon Az, I’m not gonna lie to the kid.”

“Exactly Mama,” Stephie chimes in loyally from the backseat, “lying is bad.”

Azzi rolls her eyes as Paige twists her hand to hold it out for Stephie to high-five it from the backseat, “the two of you are insufferable.”

“What does that mean?” Stephie asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“It means we’re her most favorite people in the world,” Paige winks at the little girl as Azzi shakes her head fondly, choosing to keep the you’re more than that, you two are the reason my world keeps turning that tastes sugary sweet on the tip of her tongue to herself as she continues to drive.

“What do y’all want for dinner?” she asks instead, ready to make a mental note of ingredients she might need to pick up from the grocery store while Paige and Stephie are at Curry Camp.

“Actually,” there’s a slight nervous lilt to Paige’s voice and when Azzi looks over, she finds the older woman fidgeting anxiously with her thumbs, “I was thinking that maybe um- maybe y’all could come over to mine tonight? Maybe I can cook?”

They haven’t stayed at Paige’s since that first disastrous night. It hadn’t been on purpose per say; it was simply just easier to stay at Azzi’s, especially with Stephie to consider but perhaps a part of it had been subconscious self-preservation on the younger girl's part. Something about sleeping over at Paige’s feels more purposeful; like she’s fully letting herself step back into the other’s girl world and this time with the promise to not run away in the morning. It’s scary but when Azzi sees the hopeful look on Paige’s face as the blonde bites her lips, she thinks it’s worth it to take the leap; she’s ready for it.

“I think that would be nice,” she says with a soft smile, “I’ll pick up some clothes for Stephie while y’all are at camp.”

Paige beams and Azzi can tell she’s itching to lean over to grab her hand or kiss her touch her in any way but there’s still the little fact they still haven’t quite told Stephie anything about them yet that stops her from doing any of the above.

“What do you think of that Stephie bean? You wanna have a sleepover at my place tonight?” she redirects her attention to the little girl instead.

“YES PLEASE,” Stephie squeals, practically bouncing on her car seat before a frown crosses her forehead, “but um-” she hesitates, “you um- you can’t cook Miss Buecks.”

Azzi bursts into a laughter as an offended look clouds Paige’s face, “excuse me? I absolutely can cook.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie says, her condescension-filled tone as adult as she can make it be, “you burned my eggs three times this week and then Mama had to make them all over again and we were almost late for school,” the little girl smirks through her ramble, “but that’s okay because I don’t mind being late for school because like I said school is really boring.”

“Okay but what about the one time I didn’t burn the eggs?” Paige haughtily crosses her arms over chest, “have we all just forgotten about that?”

“Pretty sure they were a little undercooked and saltless that one time-OW,” Azzi’s snicker is cut off by a pinch to her stomach, “do you want me to crash the car woman?”

Paige ignores her, turning back to look at Stephie with a betrayed expression, “you said you liked them?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feeling Miss Buecks,” the little girl wails and Azzi feels a mix of pride and love bloom in her heart at the kind soul she’s raised, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I just-” Stephie reaches as far as her seatbelt will allow to cup Paige’s hand in her tiny hands, “I really don’t think you should cook Miss Buecks.Please. I don’t wanna die yet. I’m too cute to die.”

“You know what Stephie bean,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, “I think you might be even more of a drama queen than me-”

“Don’t sound so proud,” Azzi mutters under her breath.

“Shhh,” Paige chastises, never looking away from Stephie, “but alright sweetheart. I won’t cook. How about we order pizza?”

Stephie lets out a delighted cheer as Azzi grumbles, “more junk food? I swear to god Bueckers you’re completely ruining her diet.”

“On the contrary, I think I’m finally fixing it. You poor thing,” Paige coos at Stephie dramatically, “I bet your Mama was torturing you with nasty green things all day every day before me huh?”

“No no no Miss Buecks, veggies are good for you,” Stephie recites loyally and Azzi grins triumphantly at Paige.

“Oh dear Stephie you’ve been brainwashed-”

“Excuse me? Don’t try to corrupt my child out of her good habits.”

“I’m not corrupting her,” Paige defends as Azzi makes a left turn into the parking lot for Curry Camp, “I’m just teaching her the wonders of grease and oil and all the other fun things that adults lie are bad for you.”

“Paige you are an adult.”

“But a fun one,” Paige smirks, waggling her eyebrows at Stephie through the mirror as Azzi stops the car right outside the building, “right Stephie-bean?”

“The fun-est-est-est-est,” Stephie choruses back as she begins to unbuckle herself so she can latch onto her mother’s neck from behind. Paige takes the opportunity to climb out of the car so she can grab Stephie’s sports bag from where it’s kept in the trunk.

“You be good for Miss Buecks and Uncle Twin at camp today okay?” Azzi whispers to the little girl, “and I better hear that you made all your shots.”

Stephie scoffs, “you know I never miss Mama.”

“That’s my girl,” Azzi grins as she nuzzles her nose against the little girl’s before Paige opens the backdoor and Stephie unlatches herself from her mother, only so she can go barrelling into the older woman’s arms instead, “Stephie-bean you know you can walk.”

“But Mama,” Stephie whines, wrapping her hands tightly around Paige’s neck, “I’m too tired to walk-”

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs.

“You don’t mind carrying me, do you Miss Buecks?”

“Of course not,” Paige grins, “whatever you want sweetheart.”

Stephie looks pointedly at Azzi, “see Mama? Miss Buecks doesn’t mind.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Azzi shakes her head, “alright off you two go. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“Bye Mama,” Stephie waves, “hurry back okay? We’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys too,” Azzi says warmly, blowing a kiss at both of them.

It’s uncanny how similar the two of them are, when both Stephie and Paige make a show of catching the kiss and bringing it to their heart before looking at each other and giggling over their own silliness. It makes Azzi’s heartache in the best way possible. And as she watches the two of them start walking up the stairs, Stephie rambling and Paige hanging onto every word, she thinks that as long as life gives her the two of them, she’ll never ask for anything else.

***

The first thing Azzi notices when she walks into the gym, arriving a little before camp finishes so she can say hi to her mentor, is Stephie sulking as she glares at Paige from the other side of the court. Confused, because it’s rare to see her daughter looking at the other woman with anything but pure adulation, Azzi follows the little girl’s line of sight to see what could possibly have upset her. A fond smile crosses her face as she sees Paige crowded by a bunch of children, all of them watching the superstar with wonder as she demonstrates her shooting technique. Paige swishes the ball into the basket and one would think she’d just scored the game-winning shot in the finals, by the way the gaggle of kids around her let out enthused cheers.

The blonde has always had this aura that draws people to her -Azzi would know; she’d been one of the first people to succumb to it (not that she’d put up much of a fight)- but there’s something different about the charisma Paige has with kids. Perhaps it’s because of her own childlike innocence that’s still intact despite her age, but it’s clear that the little ones adore her. Azzi watches as one of the little girls animatedly tries to mimic what Paige had just demonstrated, looking upset when the basketball barely touches the rim.

“I’m never gonna make a basket,” she hears the girl pout.

Paige ruffles the kid’s hair before lifting her up onto her lap, “of course you are. You just needed a little bit more height. Here try again,” she says as she urges the girl to shoot again now that she’s higher off the ground. This time the ball falls magnificently through the hoop and the child whoops.

“OH MY GOD COACH P I DID IT,” she squeals, hiding her face in Paige’s neck and while Azzi finds the whole thing quite adorable, when she looks over, she realizes that clearly Stephie is not nearly amused as she watches her daughter’s face transform into a scowl.

“Riley and Ryan used to make the same face any time I gave another little girl too much of my time,” Azzi grins as Steph appears by her side, the former Warriors guard bumping her shoulder as a sign of greeting, “I split the kids into groups, half with Paige and half with me. Kept Stephie with me cause you know I thought I was her favorite but she’s been glaring at all the kids with Paige this whole time.”

“She’s uh- she’s a little possessive,” Azzi chuckles, eyes still on her daughter who finally looks away from Paige, before angrily shooting the ball at the lowered basket in front of her.

“NICE SHOT TWIN NIECE,” Steph cheers as Stephie makes the shot, the little girl’s face unmoving as she gathers the ball back and gets ready to shoot again. Sometimes Azzi thinks, as she claps with pride, her daughter’s laser-focus attitude might rival her own. Maybe it’s a mother’s bias -she’d call it intuition- but she’s certain Stephie’s going to be a basketball phenomenon one day.

“That was so pretty Stephie-bean,” Paige is beaming as she approaches Stephie, the little girl from before holding her hand, “you think you can show Claudia here how you get that arc on it?”

“No thank you Coach Bueckers,” Stephie’s voice is perfectly polite as she makes a point to not look at the two people who’ve just entered her space, but Azzi catches the split second when her gaze shifts irritatedly to the way Claudia’s hanging off of Paige, “I’m a little busy right now. Maybe another time.”

“Oh she’s good,” Steph whistles lowly as Paige’s mouth falls open at not being referred to as Miss Buecks, “she’s gonna have Paige groveling after camp I bet. She’s gonna get whatever treat she wants.”

Azzi groans, “that is not a good thing. Do you know how much junk food she manipulates Paige into getting her?”

Steph laughs, “she spoils her huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Azzi mutters but there’s a wistful grin on her face, “It’s part of why Stephie adores her so much cause she knows Paige would give her the world if she could.”

“I don’t think it’s just Stephie who adores her,” Steph bumps his shoulder against her and Azzi blanches at the knowing tone in his voice.

“That’s not- I mean- I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” she stutters out.

Steph rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, “oh come off it Az. It was obvious when y’all were kids and it’s still obvious now.”

“When we were- you knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Steph scoffs, “I’ve been married for more than 20 years to the same girl I fell in love with at 15 years old Az, I know a thing or two about what love looks like. Of course I knew.”

“I’m just getting clocked left right and center today what the hell,” she grumbles but there’s a part of her that’s slightly relieved about the people around them slowly figuring it out. She thinks she should maybe be a little more embarrassed about how obvious they apparently are -have supposedly always been- but honestly she kind of loves that their love is so bright, that it’s impossible to not see it.

Love. The word sends a shiver through Azzi. It’s not a foreign feeling to her at all, especially not when it comes to Paige. If she’s honest with herself, it’s a feeling that has never left. She’d tried as hard as she could; shoving it underneath a rock of you’re not allowed to feel this way that weighed heavily against her chest. But it had always been there and as soon as Paige had waltzed her way back into Azzi’s life, the blonde seemed to have found a way to shovel it right back out. And that four-letter-word isn’t buried anymore; it’s right there on the tip of her tongue and every time Paige smiles at her -eyes crinkling with only for you-, Azzi’s this close to let it slip through her lips. She’s just waiting for the right time.

“Hey Stephie-bean can I fix your form a little bit,” her attention is drawn back to her surroundings as she watches Paige try to get Stephie to look at her again but her daughter is nothing if not stubborn.

“That’s okay. It’s almost time to go home and I’m sure Uncle Twin can help me with my form Coach Bueckers,” the little girl says contemptuously to a gobsmacked Paige before gesturing at Claudia, “how about you just keep helping her instead.”

“Sheesh that’s one petty kid you’ve got there Fudd,” Steph remarks before stepping to the front of the court and blowing his whistle, “alright y’all it’s 5 o’clock. Great job today! I hope you guys had a lot of fun and learned some good stuff and I’ll see y’all back here tomorrow!”

The former player diligently high-fives all the kids before they disperse towards their awaiting parents. Azzi can tell Stephie’s still irritated when the little girl barely hugs Steph, shaking herself out of her Uncle’s arms much quicker than she normally would as she all but stomps her way to her mother.

“Woah there Stephie-bean,” Azzi says gently, falling to her knees in front of her daughter, “what’s wrong?”

Stephie pouts miserably, “I’m mad at Miss Buecks. She’s been helping other kids this whole time.”

Azzi has to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling, amused by the child’s dramatics, “baby you know that’s Miss Buecks’s job right? She’s here to coach all the kids.”

If possible, Stephie’s frown deepens as she kicks her feet stubbornly, “she can coach them,” she says matter-of-factly, “but why does she have to carry them and give them hugs. She should only do that with me.”

“Stephie-”

“And camp is over now and she’s still with stupid Claudia,” Stephie whines as she uses her hand to turn Azzi’s face towards Paige, “see?”

The we don’t call people stupid lesson that she was just about to give her daughter dies on Azzi’s lips as her eyes fixate on where a stupid pretty young woman who she knows to be Claudia’s mother is staring up at Paige with a stupid flirty smile. Azzi has no idea what the blonde is saying, but she’s sure it can’t be that funny to make the woman tilt her head back in laughter, left hand reaching out to flick Paige’s bicep and lingering far longer than necessary.

“You know what Stephie-bean I think it’s time to home,” and really she feels just a little guilty with how she’s about to use her clearly upset daughter, “how about you go call Miss Buecks over.”

That’s all it takes to get Stephie running towards her and Azzi follows cautiously behind, only getting further irritated at how Claudia’s mother seems determined to step closer and closer to Paige and the clueless blonde does absolutely nothing to stop it, continuing to smile politely at the other woman.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie comes to a halt in front of Paige, interrupting whatever conversation was going on as she practically forces herself in between the two women, “Mama says it’s time to go home.”

Despite the jealousy simmering her heart, Azzi can’t help that her heart skips a beat at the way Paige’s whole face brightens up at seeing Stephie; clearly relieved at the little girl using her nickname again.

“Give me one second sweetheart. I’m just a little busy talking to Claudia and her mother-”

“Mama,” Stephie says loudly, cutting Paige off as she turns to Azzi, “do you know if Aunty Chérie is in town?”

“Um- I- uh-” the brunette stutters, not having expected her little girl to bring that up as her gaze flickers towards a frozen Paige whose smile is completely gone, her body going rigid at the mention of Clémence.

“I was just thinking,” Stephie barrels on casually, “maybe we could go see her and she could give me cuddles and kisses since app-ently Miss Buecks is too busy to give them to me-”

The little girl cuts herself off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted off the ground and into Paige’s arms; the blonde peppering her lips against every inch of Stephie’s face.

“Never ever too busy for you and I’m especially never too busy to give you kisses Stephie-bean.”

“Promise,” Stephie holds out her pinky finger and Paige diligently intertwines her own through it, pressing a kiss to their now interlocked pinkies.

“Promise.”

Shaking her head fondly at her menace daughter’s antiques, Azzi fixes Claudia’s mother with a sweetly saccharine smile as she wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep. She can feel the blonde’s eyes immediately drift towards her, clearly a little thrown off by her forwardness. It had been Azzi’s go-to-move in college whenever Paige’s fanclub would get a little too handsy. She’d sidle up into her girlfriend’s space, marking her territory as subtly as possible. Azzi knows this is a little different. It had been easier back then to play the action off as a protective best friend warding off boundary-less fans; really it was uncanny the things two girls could get away with under the guise of friendship. But it’s different now that they’re actual adults and she can see the clogs running Claudia’s mother’s head as she starts to piece everything together.

“Hi I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Stephie’s mom, Azzi, nice to meet you,” Azzi says finally, holding out her hand that isn’t still clasped firmly around Paige’s bicep, “I think it’s usually your husband who picks Claudia up from camp right?”

“I’m Stacie,” the woman says, primly returning the handshake, “yeah my husband’s usually the one who picks her up but I had a little time today-”

“Don’t lie Mommy. I heard you on the phone saying you wanted to come pick me up so you could meet Coach Bueckers-”

“Claudia,” Stacie hisses as Azzi narrows her eyes at the woman.

“You said it’s cause you think she’s really hot-” Claudia manages to get out before her mother furiously clamps her hand over her mouth.

“Azzi,” Paige whispers under her breath, wincing slightly as the shooting guard unconsciously tightens her grip, unable to keep the irritation of her face as she all but glares at Claudia’s mother.

“You know kids, they say anything,” Stacie tries to justify, cowering under the sintering heat of Azzi’s stare.

“Right,” the brunette nods with faux understanding, “well if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time for us to go unless-” she turns her gaze onto Paige who looks innocently back at her as she hides a smile against Stephie’s stomach, “unless you’re still busy that is?”

Paige shakes her head affectionately as she tugs her arm out of Azzi’s grip, only so she can lock their pinkies together, the angle of it just out of Stephie’s line of sight, “never too busy for you,” she repeats, “let’s go.”

***

“Mama, will you tell Miss Buecks that I’m not speaking to her,” Stephie says as soon as the three of them get settled into the car.

“What,” Paige shrieks, twisting her head around to look at the little girl who decisively looks away, her tiny hands crossed over her chest.

“Stephie,” Azzi sighs exasperatedly, stretching her legs out in the passenger seat; Paige had insisted on driving this time and she hadn’t bothered fighting against it, “babes I thought you’d gotten over it? You were literally just talking to her.”

“That’s cause I forgot I was mad when Miss Buecks gave me my kisses but I rem-ber now,” Stephie explains.

“Remember what?” Paige asks frantically, “Stephie-bean what did I do?”

The little girl in question makes it a point to turn her nose up and look directly at Azzi as she answers, “Mama will you tell Miss Buecks that she knows what she did.”

“I really, really don’t. Stephie sweetheart please tell me so I can fix it,” Paige tries again, and Azzi lets herself marvel at how the normally jittery-woman seems to have endless patience for her little girl.

“YOU GAVE THE OTHER KIDS HIGH FIVES AND CUDDLES AND HUGS AND YOU EVEN LET CLAUDIA ONTO YOUR LAP,” Stephie bursts out emphatically, “you’re not supposed to do that with anyone but ME.”

“I-” Paige looks over helplessly at Azzi who holds her hands up in surrender, determined not to get in between the two of them and their dramatics.

“You didn’t even ask Uncle Twin to let me be on your team,” Stephie accuses and then like she’s suddenly remembered that she’d made a bold assertion a couple of minutes ago, “Mama could you please tell Miss Buecks that I said all of that.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I have a feeling she might have heard you.”

“Did you like the other kid’s hugs more than you like mine?” the little girl prods, her eyes suddenly glimmering with tears.

“Oh sweetheart of course not,” Paige consoles immediately, “I could never like anyone’s hugs more than yours, you know that. Your hugs are the best things in the whole wide world. And Stephie-bean, I thought you wanted to be with Uncle Twin, you said you missed him.”

“Wanted to be with you more,” Stephie pouts stubbornly, “I don’t wanna share my Miss Buecks with the other kids. I don’t want you to hug them or carry them and you definitely can’t give them kisses.”

“I didn’t even give any of them kisses,” Paige protests.

“Stephie, Miss Buecks is a person, not an object. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss-” Azzi tries to explain but is almost immediately interrupted by Stephie who gives her an unamused look.

“Well is she allowed to hug and carry and kiss Claudia’s Mama then?”

Azzi’s mouth falls open as Paige barely holds in her chuckle at the little girl’s cheeky question, “she absolutely is not allowed to do that.”

“Exactly,” there’s a satisfied grin on Stephie's face as she takes in the still dumbfounded expression on her mother’s face.

“I just- I meant the kids. She’s allowed to hug or carry or kiss the kids-”

“NO SHE’S NOT.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Paige moves her hands up and down in a calming gesture before she reaches for Stephie hands, “how about this? From now on, I won’t carry any of the other kids and I definitely won’t give them any kisses. But can I at least give them one hug? Just one tiny little hug?”

Stephie ponders over the request for a second, “okay,” she agrees finally, “but only one hug and it can’t be longer than three seconds okay? And then you come and give me three of them right after?”

“Done. I’ll come give you five hugs right after,” Paige grins happily as the two of them shake on it before she turns back around to start driving them towards her house.

“Mama you can tell Miss Buecks that I’m speaking to her again,” Stephie smiles toothily at Azzi through the rearview mirror.

“Really?” Azzi responds sarcastically, “I couldn't have guessed.”

“You know,” Paige drops her voice so Stephie can’t hear them, “you’re being pretty sassy for someone who was just as irrationally jealous as a five year old a couple of minutes ago.”

“I was not jealous,” Azzi says indignantly, repeating herself when Paige’s smirk deepens, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Paige, I was absolutely not jealous.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige hums quietly as she turns the music up in the car, grinning at Stephie through the mirror when one of their new favorites comes on.

Azzi preemptively covers her ears as her soft “oh please don’t start singing-” is immediately drowned out by the two other people in the car beginning to sing at the top of their voices. They barely know the lyrics and they’re definitely not on key and really Azzi’s poor ears are bleeding, but as she’s coerced into reluctantly joining in, she thinks this could still be her favorite sound in the whole wide world.

They’re so enthralled in their cacophony -in each other- as they pull up to Paige’s house, that it takes them a far longer than it should to notice the figure on her porch. It isn’t until they’ve parked in the driveway, and Azzi’s gone around to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag from the back while Paige lifts Stephie onto her shoulders, and they’re finally making their way up the three steps that lead to the deck, that they finally do.

All chatter comes to a halt as the boy -well that’s not quite right; not when he towers over Paige and Azzi as he stands up from where he’d been sitting on the lawn chair. It’s been almost four years since she’d last seen him in person and even then he’d been a fleeting face in the crowd. She’s seen plenty of his clips from the rookie year he’d just finished in the NBA but it isn’t the same as seeing him in the flesh now. So much has changed; the baby fat is gone from his face, he’s lankier and longer and there’s a discernible aura of confidence around him; as is expected from a 20 year old man. Yet, as Azzi lets her gaze wander over him, she sees what she’s always seen. She sees that same innocence, that same kindness, that same drive in his eyes that she’d always found reflected in his sister’s eyes too. She looks at him and she still sees a mini version of her Paige.

***

October 2022

“AZZI,” Drew screams as he runs across the arrival gate, his carry-on suitcase practically abandoned for the flight attendant with him to begrudgingly pick up.

“DREW,” Azzi’s smile widens as the little boy comes to a halt in front of her, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, “oh my god you’ve gotten so much bigger little dude.”

Drew scrunches his nose up at her, “you literally saw me like a month ago.”

“And I think you might have doubled in size since,” she ruffles his hair before turning to the flight attendant who’s not so subtly checking her out, “thank you so much for getting him here safely.”

“Oh just doing my duty m’am, especially for a pretty lady like you,” the man says and Azzi winces at his dated flirting technique.

“This is Azzi,” Drew introduces, irritation seeping into his voice as he tightens his grip on Azzi’s waist, “you know how I told you I’m flying out for my sister’s birthday, this is my sister’s girlfriend and it was her idea to fly me out to surprise my sister. Because you know she’s her girlfriend.”

“Right,” the man grimaces and Azzi has to bite back the laugh threatening to escape as he hastily hands Drew’s suitcase over before barely managing a half-hearted grin, “I um- uh- well I should get back to the uh- plane or something. Tell your- tell your sister happy birthday.”

“Thanks again,” Azzi calls after the man as he all but runs away from them, shaking her head fondly down at Drew who’s giggling into her side.

“You think if I tell Paige he flirted with you, she’d get him fired?” he asks cheekily.

“There’s a nonzero chance that she’d at least try,” Azzi agrees as the two of them start making their way out of the airport and towards her car.

It’s a chilly fall morning and the sun has barely risen in the sky but Drew seems more awake than ever as he practically bounces into the passenger seat, clearly excited to see his sister who has no inkling that he’s coming. The idea had come to Azzi a week or so ago as she’d racked her head for ideas of what to do for Paige for her birthday. She’d done a good job putting up a front for the rest of their team -avidly cheering for them from the sidelines during practice- but Paige had been struggling these last couple of weeks. Azzi knows firsthand what it’s like to watch everyone else play the sport she loves while nursing her own injury and no matter how many i’m fine don’t worry about me spiels she got from her girlfriend, Azzi knew it was killing the point guard to not be out there with their team.

If she could, Azzi would have liked to have miraculously fixed Paige’s torn ACL as her birthday gift but that was wishful thinking. So instead she’d decided on cheering Paige up with the other thing she loved more than playing basketball: spending time with her baby brother. It didn't take that much convincing to get Bob Bueckers -who’d seen just how despondent his daughter had been those first couple of weeks in that gloomy hotel- to allow Drew to take the first half of this week off of school. From then on, the main difficulty had been keeping it a secret from Paige who seemed to have sixth sense for when something was going on behind her back. It didn’t help that Drew had come close to spilling the beans more than a handful of times. But they’d somehow managed it and this morning, Azzi had rolled out of her girlfriend’s arms much earlier than she would have liked to, ready to give Paige the day she deserved.

She glances at the clock. It’s almost 8 and Azzi knows that Paige is probably beginning to stir awake. She can almost picture the likely confusion on her girlfriend’s as she’d reach out for Azzi, only to find the spot next to her empty. As if on cue, the sound of a phone ringing vibrates around the car and Drew’s eyes light up at Paige’s name flashing on the media-board.

“Don’t say a word,” Azzi warns him as she picks up the call.

“WHAT THE HELL AZZI. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Paige’s irritated voice echoes throughout the car, “DO YOU KNOW HOW RUDE IT IS TO MAKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAKE UP ALONE IN THE MORNING? ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY?”

Despite Azzi’s warning, Drew snickers loud enough for the speakers to pick it up and the brunette fights the urge to hit her head against the steering wheel when Paige lets out a dramatic gasp.

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU WITH ANOTHER GIRL. ON MY BIRTHDAY?”

“No Paige I am not with another girl-”

“Well it sounds like there’s a girl with you.”

Drew opens his mouth to protest, clearly agitated with his voice potentially being mistaken for a girl’s but Azzi’s quicker, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth.

“I am not with-”

“Wait. Why did that voice sound so familiar?” Paige asks and Azzi can picture her scrunching her nose through the phone, “it can’t be any of the girls. I think I saw all of them in their apartments while I was looking for you but it sounds so-”

“It’s no one,” Azzi says hurriedly, “I’m just picking up something for your birthday.”

“I don’t want anything for my birthday,” Paige grumbles, “just wanted to wake up to my beautiful gorgeous girlfriend but no, you couldn’t just let me have that.”

A soft blush, tinted with hues of you make my imperfection feel perfect, creeps up Azzi’s cheeks as Drew teasingly waggles his eyebrows at her, “I promise I have something even better for you.”

“What could possibly be better than morning se-”

“Celebratory cuddles. Right yes what could be better than morning celebratory cuddles,” Azzi babbles, ignoring the weird look Drew gives her as she tries to prevent them from falling in the ditch her girlfriend is unknowingly about throw them into, “oh my won’t you look at that, that sign has all the reasons I shouldn’t try to talk and drive.”

“Baby what? Are you having a stroke. That’s not a thing-

“Oh it totally is and I really have to hang up. Love you baby, see you soon!’

“Azzi-” a loud beep rings through Paige’s protests as Azzi rushes to cut the call, slumping back in her seat with a sigh.

“Morning celebratory cuddles?” if she wasn’t so embarrassed she would laugh at the side-eye Drew shoots her, “y’all are so weird.”

“Watch it. I will send you back to Minnesota.”

“No you won't,” it’s uncanny how Drew has Paige’s exact smile as he goofily grins at her, “you love Paigey way too much to do that to me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, “yeah maybe just a little bit.”

There’s peaceful silence in the car for a while as Drew leans back in his seat, looking thoughtfully out the window. Azzi feels excitement bubble in her stomach in anticipation for Paige’s reaction to seeing her little brother. For as long as she’s known her girlfriend, she’s always known just how special Drew is to her; he’d been more a child to her than a brother and although it hasn’t been that long since Paige has seen him, Azzi could still hear the wistfulness in her voice every night she’d said good-bye to him on the phone. She feels giddy just knowing that seeing Drew again will put that earnest, loving smile she loves so much on Paige’s face. That smile, Azzi thinks, might just be the reason her world keeps turning.

“Hey Azzi?” Drew says slowly, “can I ask you something?”

“Course you can kid. You can ask me whatever you want,” Azzi reaches out to squeeze the little boy’s hand as he fidgets in his seat.

“Do you-” he hesitates, sucking in a deep breath, “do you think two people can stay together forever?”

Azzi’s taken aback by the gravity of the question, not having expected to deal with heavy-hitting ones like this so early in the morning. And really the truth is Azzi doesn’t know how to answer this question. It’s the kind of question her own brain conjures up sometimes and she has to distract herself from the way it makes her heart constrict because what if two people can’t stay together forever?

“That’s a heavy question,” she says finally, “where’s this coming from?”

Drew shrugs and his tone teeters on the edge of defensiveness when he answers, “just some things I think about sometimes.”

“I don’t know,” she says carefully, “I’d like to think some people can. I mean my parents have been together for a really long time and I’d like to think they’ll stay together forever.”

“How about you and Paigey?” Drew prods.

There’s an answer of yes that tastes like asphalt on the top of Azzi’s tongue and so much of her wants to spit it out and have that be the answer she gives Drew. But there are these uneasy shackles of uncertainty, of what if’s, of who knows what the future could do to us, that stops her. And she doesn’t know why she’s so scared of saying yes. Because if she’s honest with herself Azzi can’t really fathom a forever without her girlfriend; not when sometimes it feels like instead of a heart, it’s Paige that beats rhythmically against her ribcage.

“I really, really hope so,” she whispers.

“Azzi,” Drew’s voice is coated in sincerity and the brunette hums in response, “you won’t ever hurt my Paigey will you?”

And there it is again, the unpredictability of what could happen next that’s beginning to feel a little suffocating. She wants to give Drew a resounding no because Azzi would rather drive a dagger through her skin before letting Paige get so much as a paper cut but life is so fickle and she’s scared of making a promise she can’t keep. So she makes one that she swears she can.

“I promise that I will try my absolute best not to hurt your Paigey.”

***

May 2033

“Well,” Drew Bueckers sneers, his tone filled with contempt as he takes in the way Paige, Azzi and Stephie are practically wrapped into each other, don’t you guys just look so fucking cozy.”

There’s a sinister tension-filled quiet as the three adults -god it’s weird to include Drew as an adult but Azzi supposes that that’s what he is now- look between each other.

“Umm you owe me a kiss,” Stephie cuts into the silence.

“What?” Drew scrunches his face at the little girl.

“You said a bad word,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “and Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. So Miss Buecks,” Drew's eyes narrow at the nickname as the little girl lightly taps Paige’s shoulder, “can you turn around and move closer so he can give me a kiss?”

“You don’t, you don’t have to do that-” Azzi tries to intervene.

“Yes he does Mama,” Stephie interupts her indignantly, “rules are rules right?’

“Stephie-”

“Rules are rules,” it’s Drew who cuts Azzi off this time, his previously stoic face morphing into something warmer as he takes a step closer to her daughter and presses his lips against her turned cheek, “there you go. Am I forgiven for saying a bad word now?”

Stephie grins up at him and Azzi feels a wave of this is how it always should have been pinching at her heart she watches the two of them.

“You’re forgiven but you have to promise not to do it again.”

“I don’t make promises like that kid,” there’s an unspoken accusation as Drew keeps up a smile towards Stephie but his eyes dart for the briefest second towards the two women around him, “but I promise I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Stephie accepts happily as she reaches over Paige’s shoulder to press her own lips against Drew’s cheek.

“What was that for?’ he asks a little dazedly.

Stephie shrugs, “because I think I’m gonna like you.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers finally, gently letting the little girl off of her shoulders, “what are you- what are you doing here?”

“What? A guy can’t just come visit his sister anymore?” there’s an unfamiliar hard edge to Drew’s voice -a stark contrast from how he’d been with Stephie- that makes Azzi flinch.

“Of course he can but I just- you didn’t- you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Paige presses.

“Well we've been talking about me coming down for a while but it just hasn’t happened and so I thought- I thought why not just come surprise you but-” Drew purses his lips as he gestures to the trio in front of him, “I think I might be the one who’s surprised.”

“Drew-”

“Actually you know what no,” he clenches his jaw, voice dripping with barely controlled anger, “I’m actually not surprised. Not surprised at all. Because really this- this is exactly what I should have expected from the two of you.”

“Maybe,” Azzi nibbles at her bottom, “maybe we should go-’

“NO,” both Stephie and Paige yell out in tandem as the little girl immediately clutches onto the blonde’s thighs.

“I don’t wanna go. Miss Buecks tell Mama I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re staying right here with me,” Paige reassures the little girl as she turns her gaze back to Azzi, “you’re not going anywhere okay?”

“Paige-”

“I asked you to stay tonight and you’re going to stay. End of discussion,” Paige says firmly and Azzi lets out a reluctant sight.

“You asked her to stay? As in stay the night? Oh my god,” Drew scoffs maliciously.

“Drew,” there’s a warning tone in Paige’s voice as she deattaches herself from Stephie, keeping her voice low, “not right now okay?”

Her brother rolls his eyes, grunting out a “whatever,” but listening to his older sister like he always had and suddenly Azzi feels nostalgic for the little boy she had once known.

“You’re so tall,” she blurts out, grimacing slightly when he turns to her with a frown.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean I knew that. I’ve seen some of your highlights and I knew I mean- I knew you were taller and that you’ve gotten bigger and that you’d look stronger and all of that but I just-” Azzi gulps between her babbling, “you just- you look different Drew.”

There’s a shine of warmth in Drew’s gaze for a second but it flickers away faster than it had appeared and his eyes are cold with flecks of betrayal as he looks at Azzi, “that’s what happens as people get older isn’t it? I wouldn’t look so different to you if you’d been around to see me grow up.”

There’s venom laced in every word and Paige immediately opens her mouth to argue with him, but Azzi wraps a hand around her wrist to stop her. Because even if the words seep into her skin and infect it with bruises of guilt and regret, Azzi thinks she probably deserves them. She’d been in Drew’s world for so long and then one day, she just hadn’t been. She thinks he probably could have spewed something even more poisonous and she just might have deserved that too.

“Are you sleeping over too, Uncle Drew?” Stephie asks softly, unaffected by the tenseness of the adults around her.

“Uncle Drew?” Drew asks slowly.

Stephie nods with a grin, “Miss Buecks called you Drew and that’s when I figured it out. Mama and Miss Buecks have told me stories about you and there’s some pictures of you from when you were littler at Nana and Pop's house,” she rambles and Drew’s eyes soften at the idea of Stephie knowing of his existence, “ and just in case you don’t know who I am even though you should,” she gives him a pointed look as if everyone should know who the little girl is, “I’m Stephie. And you’re my Miss Buecks’s brother so that means you’re my Uncle Drew.”

“Right that um-” Drew clears his throats, “that makes sense Stephie.”

“So Uncle Drew, are you sleeping over too?”

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am.”

“YAY!” Stephie squeals as she laces her fingers through Drew and begins to pull him towards the front door, “so Uncle Drew what’s your favorite pizza topping?”

Something wonderful flutters in Azzi’s chest as she watches the two of them interact -it’s a little bit like seeing the past and present harmonically blend into one- but despite that, despite the reassurance that Paige squeezes against her hand, there’s an uneasiness lingering in the back of her mind. That wretched but familiar fear of the future weaves itself through her heart. Between the frostiness from Drew and whatever secret Paige is keeping from her, Azzi can’t help but wonder if these last couple of weeks had simply been a mirage. She can’t help but wonder if this bubble of happiness that they’ve built is about to be burst by a needle of circumstance again.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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envy-of-the-apple · 7 months ago

Text

Keep Your Head In The Game

Yandere! Victoria Neuman x reader

(Warnings: threats of murder, non con touching/kissing, implied captivity)

Working at the Bureau had been your dream job.

Vought had ruined so many people’s lives. It felt good to be part of something that stood against that company for those who couldn't. Despite not having powers, even you could be a hero. You'd worked under Victoria Neuman for years. You knew everything about her.

And then Hughie Campbell ruined everything.

You’d like to think of him as a friend. You and him had lunch together sometimes. You’d sit and smile as he went on and on about his girlfriend. He was a nice guy. You’d like to think that he and you were close.

But Hughie broke you.

Evidence. He’d shown you evidence of what she’d done. So much blood. So much gore. The orphanage, the files.

“She’s one of them,” he’d whispered right before he fled into the night, “stay away from her. Quit. Please, for your sake, don’t go back to that fucking snake den.”

And then he was gone. Just like that.

Work in the Bureau continued as normal. Safe for the rumors of Soldier boy sightings, everything was so…fine, even without him.

Even Neuman was unphased.

She still smiled and laughed and told jokes as she surrounded herself with regular humans. She curled her lip when Supes were discussed. You used to love it when she brought Zoe around, but even her daughter you couldn’t even trust to be real.

Victoria didn’t act like a Supe.

But Hughie wasn't lying.

Friday night. The bureau had a party going on tonight. Another Supe had been successfully put away. Those were always a sight, especially considering Gina would get shitfaced. You couldn’t go, feigning illness before you slipped out the night. You couldn’t enjoy yourself, not when you had so much to think about.

Instead of enjoying the night with coworkers, you found comfort in the hardest liquor in your cabinet. Your one true friend.

Not Hughie. Not anymore. Hughie left. Or maybe he was killed. Who knows. Who fucking cares.

There’s a knock on your door. When you ignore it, it comes again louder. You groan, but you pull yourself off the couch eventually. Your neighbor again. You need to have a talk with her about disturbing you at odd hours of the night.

“You look like you’ve seen better days.”

You can only stare. Victoria tilts her head.

“Gonna let me in or will I have to stand out here?”

Against your judgment, the instinct of always listening to your boss kicking in, you open the door. She elegantly steps in, surveying your home.

She’s wearing that blue suit you’ve always complimented her on. Earlier, you would have admired her professional elegance. Now, it makes her look more inhuman. She looks even more out of place in your shabby apartment, studying your upkeep.

“Sorry,” you say when you stop gawking, “I…I hadn’t had time to clean up.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Victoria waves you off. “Just checking in on my favorite employee. How’re you feeling, by the way.”

“Good.” You quickly reply. “I was just feeling a little under the weather earlier. I hope I didn't worry you."

"Why wouldn't I be worried?" She tilts her head, grinning with straight white teeth that get increasingly eerie the longer you stare. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Before, you wouldn't have blinked twice at her words and tone. You would have mindlessly agreed, smiled even. But things were different now. You were playing pretend with a known murderer.

If you close your eyes, you can still remember the faces in that court before their heads exploded. You'd been behind a screen, watching it all in horror and you remembered closing your eyes and begging for Victoria to be alright, praying that it would be okay if everyone died but her.

And now to realize she caused all that?

"Maybe you have a fever. You're shaking."

You were. You clasp your trembling hands together, trying to ease your nerves.

"Yeah." Even your voice was wavering. Calm down. Calm down. "I still might not be over...whatever I came down with."

The predator clicks her tongue in sympathy, cooing as she nears her prey. You force yourself not to stiffen when she wraps a sturdy hand around your shoulders, leading you over to the couch. You sit next to her with your thigh pressed up against hers. You feel like you're about to vomit.

"You should rest," Victoria says, "take a few days off work. I'll let everyone know."

"Yeah," you say because this is good, it'll help you focus on what you need to do next, "definitely, thank you."

"Oh, please, don't thank me." She laughs. "I'm glad you're not in the office because you're sick. For some reason, I thought you were avoiding me. Y'know, 'cause you were scared, I would pop your head."

One second. Two seconds. And then you're up, scrambling off the sofa. It's instinct to run from monsters, no matter if they would take your head off your shoulders on a whim, whenever they want. It's instinct to be stupid and careless and run.

If anything, you should be grateful this monster is her.

She's strong, like all Supes are. Even though you know what she is, it takes you a moment to realize it's Victoria who had pinned you against the couch, keeping you underneath her. You used to win arm-wrestling competitions against her. The pressure caused your lungs to tighten, making it hard to breathe. Even has you struggled, tried to claw at her hands, tug on her pristine clothes, she didn't budge. You think the worst thing about all of this was that it didn't even look like it took much effort to keep you down. Like she was wrestling a kitten.

"Easy, easy." She hushes, tone soft and condescending. "C'mon, we're both adults, aren't we? Let's be civil here."

Civil. Like she had any right to use that word after what she's done for months, perhaps all her life. Your heart is a hummingbird frazzled with fear, but you can feel that twinge of anger and resentment even then. Something else too: betrayal.

"Why?" You asked, your voice failing. "Why, Vicky?"

For the first time tonight, her mask cracks. Her eyes flicker, looking at your defeated body before coming back up to your face. She looks remorseful, but not guilty.

"I didn't....I didn't want you to find out this way." She admits, slightly easing off you, enough to ease the force in your lungs. "Or maybe ever, actually. Fucking Cambell, leaving a mess, and then running off. What else can you expect from that guy, right?"

You just stare. Victoria sighs.

“Of all people, I thought you would understand.” Her voice wavers. “I thought you’d get it, somehow.”

You look at her, and you feel like you’re staring at that girl from Red River. Scared and Trembling Nadia, who just wanted love, someone to lean on. Someone who wasn't scared of her.

Then it flickers, and then Victoria's back.

"You murdered a whole room." You finally say. "How could you possibly ask me to understand that?"

She glowers, her frown deepens, and then she's sitting up, getting off you. You learn your lesson from last time, but you still huddle in the corner of the sofa, watching her.

"Right, because I'm supposed to believe you feel bad for them." Victoria rolls her eyes. "Half of those guys vacationed on Epstein's island before the brand change, and you were there when those deep fakes came out. Remember Congressmen Davis? He kept staring at your ass on the House Floor, so I'm not sure why you're acting like they're suddenly men of valor."

"Yes, yes, yes, they were terrible people." You press your hand to your forehead. "But you-we-we can't kill people. We-we're supposed to do things the right way and I just-" You choke on your words.

"Hughie got to you," she notes, "I knew I shouldn't have paired you up with each other."

"You lied to me." You murmur. There's no anger anymore, just heartbreak. "You lied to everyone. I thought we were fighting against Vought, but we've been in their pocket this whole time."

"We're still fighting-"

"You're Stan Edgar's daughter. We're in their pocket."

You press your hands to your face, squeezing. All the while you can feel Victoria watching. You ignore her. There's no point in talking to her, not anymore. You might not have known Victoria, but you know the Supe that committed a massacre. Her cover was blown. You were a leaking faucet she needed to turn off.

"What now?" You ask, drawing up to look at her. "Are you going to kill me?"

Her mouth twitches. Her eyes flicker with realization. A soft coo comes from her lips, utterly condescending. Suddenly, her posture changes: less intimidating, more welcoming.

"Oh, sweetie, is that why you're so upset?" She shifts until you're trapped in her arms. You don't bother fighting. Your bravery has run out. Tears are already dripping down your cheeks. "You thought I was gonna...." There's a laugh spilling off her lips. You squeeze your eyes shut when she hugs you tighter.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Victoria says, a smile in her voice. "Not to you. Never to you."

Her hands are so warm as she cradles your face, forcing you to look at her. It's a gentle type of cruelty, forcing you to face your fears while the monster gives you a beautiful smile.

"I cherish you too much to do that."

You must look so lost. She laughs even more at that.

"Seriously? It wasn't obvious? C'mon, Zoe is crazy about you, she never shuts up. And I...I think it's better if I just..."

Her lips are soft. Gentle. You don't kiss back. You can't. You're frozen in ice.

"I won't hurt you." Then, her tone tightens just the tiniest bit. "You're friends and family, on the other hand..."

When she pulls away, she's the most relaxed you've ever seen her. You wish you could say the same. While her smile grows larger, so does the gaping hole in your stomach.

You close your eyes, slumping in defeat.

"What do you want?" You plead.

You can feel her lips press on your cheek. Victory.

When you walk through the door, Zoe looks elated.

She calls your name with a delighted giggle, reaching out to hug you. You wish you could return her enthusiasm, but you can barely pat her head.

"What're you doing here?" She asks when she's done hugging you, looking up at you with pretty eyes. Her eyes are much like her mother's; they just haven't lost their innocence yet.

Neuman steps in, a strong hand on your shoulder. That same gentle smile that holds the comfort a mother has for her daughter.

"Gas leak, right?" She turns to look at you. "Real nasty. So, I offered our home for a little while."

Zoe nods. She's the only thing so far that's remained stagnant. Maybe that's why you're more than eager to listen to what she did at school that day. She rambles on and on, and there's nothing left to say anymore. Until Victoria sends her daughter to bed.

"It's probably best to keep the real reason hush-hush," she tells you later, shutting the master bedroom.

You're seated pliantly on the bed, watching her shrug off her cardigan. The mattress sinks underneath your weight. Silk covers. It's too big for just one person.

You're not a captive, she explained in the back of her fancy black car. You could roam around, meet up with friends, call people, do whatever your heart desired. It would just be under her eyes from now on.

"A safeguard." She charitably explained, perfectly manicured fingernails drumming on her thigh. "Just so you don't do something we both might regret."

You don't know if she'd been telling the truth when she insisted your head was off-limits, but you knew she had your family's names and addresses. So you sat pliantly in that car, pliantly listened to Zoe, and pliantly followed Victoria into her bedroom.

On paper, you weren't a captive. But you and Victoria both knew better.

"Is Zoe also...?" You trail off, averting your eyes when she unbuttons her blouse. You can hear her clothes drop to the floor as she unabashedly rifles through her drawer.

"No," Victoria answers. And then your heart drops when she adds. "Not yet."

You shudder, but she's already sitting next to you. She coaxes you to look at her with a hand on your cheek. Even dressed down, she's gorgeous. Unblemished skin was barely covered by a silk gown.

You think she looks just as upset as you. Maybe even more. She pets your cheek thoughtlessly.

"When I brought you to my bed for the first time, I thought things would be different, somehow." She laughs. It sounds bitter.

"I never wanted this. Not for us," Victoria says, "but-but there's nothing else I can do. It...."

A tear drips down your face. She's pushing it away.

'You'll be okay." A kiss to your temple. "I know you will." Lips at your cheek.

When she finally gives into her inhibitions and kisses you, you know she was lying about it all.

#yandere #dark content #x reader #Dark #Yandere Victoria Neuman x reader #Dark Victoria Neuman x reader #Victoria Neuman x reader #Dark Victoria Neuman #Yandere Victoria Neuman #threatening #noncon kissing/touching

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maitanii · 16 days ago

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ran haitani, my beloved

“I haven’t been honest with you.”

The parking lot was nearly empty, the only sound coming from their slow footsteps. As they approached his black bike, Ran came to an abrupt stop. Those words. They were never good in any context. But hearing them from her? They felt like a punch to the gut. Turning, he caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice steady but cautious.

She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself. “There’s something I’ve been lying about, and I think it’s time you knew the truth.”

Ran frowned. “Quit messing around.”

Her hesitation only made his nerves spike. “Do you remember our first date, when you told me about your favorite movie?”

“Yeah…” He drew the word out, his brow furrowing.

“Well, I lied when I said I liked it.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, processing. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he let out a low chuckle. “Oh, babe…” His laughter grew, almost melodic, and she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter hearing it. “Is that what’s had you all wound up this afternoon?”

“Yes,” she admitted, biting her lip.

Ran shook his head, amused. “Well, can’t say I’m not hurt by that statement. But what can I say?” He stepped forward, wrapping his long arms around her shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You’ve got amazing taste in men, but your taste in movies sucks.”

“Today’s movie sucked, Ran.”

He froze, pulling back slightly. “Wait.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I just… didn’t find it funny. The jokes were bad.”

“Okay, now you’re worrying me.”

“I’m sorry.” She slipped her helmet over her head, muffling the giggle threatening to escape. “I don’t even like the cast. That actor? He’s not charismatic. His entire shtick is picking a hot woman to play his wife and making that his personality.”

Ran let out a reluctant laugh, shaking his head as he fished his keys out of his pocket. “Fair enough,” he muttered, helping her onto the bike. Even though he wasn’t genuinely hurt, he was still a little surprised she’d brought this up now. As he settled into his seat, curiosity got the better of him.

“Why’d you lie to me back then? And why do you keep watching these movies if you don’t like them?”

She hesitated, then rested her hands lightly on his back. “Because you do, Ran. When you told me about that movie on our first date, you looked so excited. I didn’t have it in me to tell you how much I hate Adam Sandler’s acting.”

He reached for her hands, holding them against his chest as if to keep her close. “That’s sweet, babe. You’re way too nice to me.”

She smiled, relieved he wasn’t upset. “Maybe next time, we can watch one of my movies.”

“Sure,” he said easily. “As long as it’s not Twilight.”

“Oh, we’ll see,” she teased.

Ran groaned dramatically, revving the engine. “You know I’d give you the moon, but I’m not watching that.”

Her laugh rang out, even over the sound of the bike. “We’ll see.”

PS: I'm sorry girls, I don't like Adam Sandler movies. But do you know who does? My boyfriend.

When I first started talking to my boyfriend, he mentioned a movie I’d never seen. Instead of admitting it, I lied and said I loved it. Two years later, I finally confessed I hadn’t even heard of the movie until I met him. Now, nearly six years later, it’s still a running joke between us.

#ran haitani you'll always be famous #ran haitani #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader

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obxcc · 7 days ago

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⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ kitty!reader was a good friend. of course she’d show up when sarah texted her begging to show up to the beach. especially when she said kie was being a bitch.

cw . . . 18+ male masturbation , profanity , ex!jj , butthead!kie for the plot i love my girl more than life , drinking

it had been far too long for jj to still have to pull out his phone and open your instagram just to get off every once in awhile. but there was this one post you still had up from years ago when you were still together. jj had taken it when you two were having a beach day. the red bikini that left nothing to the imagination. the activities he knew you got up to that night. god , it would get him to finish like nothing else.

he did feel bad about it every time! a little guilty. your words swirling around his head each time he nutted all over himself and his phone. you don’t act like you care about me , baby , and you ditch me for your friends all of the time , or even you’re not good at loving me.

yeah… nothing like a post nut clarity to make jj feel impossibly worse. so instead of dealing with the reality of his sticky situation , he just cleaned up and went to bed. the pogues had a big day tomorrow. there was this volleyball competition at the beach that john b signed the guys up for.

actually , scratch that. waking up and opening his phone to still see your picture pulled up is worse. he cleared his search history and swiped out of the app before getting ready and heading downstairs.

everything was going swimmingly at the tournament until you showed up. until you showed up in that fucking bikini. jj hadn’t seen you in maybe two years , and when he does you were wearing that.

he didn’t even know you were coming.

he didn’t know sarah had texted you sending for backup earlier in the day. SOS KIE STILL HATES ME. SEND BACK UP PLEASE. SOS SOS. and you weren’t doing anything but lounging around the condo , so of course you’d head out and help your best friend. you’d drop everything if you needed to. especially when sarah mentioned kie.

the three of you had all been friends at one point. you had been good friends with kie individually. you dated one of her best friends. but after her and sarah got into a huge fight your junior year , everything blew up. you were forced to pick sides , and you chose sarah , which only caused problems between you and jj. it was a shit storm inside of a shit storm when everything happened.

now here sarah was , falling for john b routledge. you hated to admit that it sort of made sense. you knew them both , and there was ways they just clicked. so as soon as you found out kie was making the process of falling in love hard for sarah , you were on the way.

you got dressed in a swimsuit , tied a wrap around your hips and set off for the beach. not before grabbing a bottle of tequila on the way out the door. maybe getting drunk out of her mind would help kie loosen the fuck up.

when you arrived to the beach , there weren’t too many people there. the game was paused , two teams huddled up on their respective sides of the sand court. so when you walked up to the game , bottle clinking in your purse , everyone looked.

“hiya , boys,” you batted your lashes , making eye contact with jj before the teams broke up to get back to the game.

it was like he was frozen in place , flashed back to a time just a few years ago you’d been with him on this very beach in a swimsuit so similar he could easily mix them up. “hey— uh , what are you doing here? didn’t know you liked volleyball,” he stammered , stepping closer to you as he eyed the way you fit your swimsuit.

your eyebrows scrunched up as your hand came between you. “why are you standing so close to me?” you asked him , shuffling back in the sand but jj was more focused on the ring that wrapped around your finger. a ring he gave you on your eighteenth birthday.

“i’m not—“

“jayj! get your head out of your ass!”

you knew who was yelling at jj from the sidelines before you even looked. he darted away , jumping back into the game as you made your way over to sarah with a big grin. “look at you , sexy mama!” you greeted her , kissing her cheek.

“did you sneak alcohol into this event?” sarah giggled , wrapping her arm around your waist as she heard the glass bottle hitting other items in your purse.

“well , i wasn’t about to deal with kie sober , and i thought maybe it’d help lighten her mood a bit,” you shrugged.

“i don’t know,” the blonde sighed , stopping before you got too close to kie’s spot on the bleachers, “she’s like really mean now.”

you took a glance at the girl , seeing she looked the exact same as she did the last time you saw her— ocean salted hair with a hippie-esque outfit , and rolled your eyes. “sarah,” you began , putting your hands on her shoulders, “we’re not gonna let some bitch from high school flush you out , okay? we’re the bitches from high school.”

it wasn’t much of a pep talk , but it worked enough to get sarah moving up the stairs to sit down next to kie again.

“as if one of you wasn’t enough,” kie spoke , not bothering to force a smile onto her lips.

“yeah , you know you used to be one of us , right?” you replied , pulling the tequila from your purse and unscrewing it, “what?” you questioned kie and her furrowed brows as you took a gulp, “did you think the three of us could hang out sober?”

you held the bottle out , wiggling it to entice her more. “whatever,” she rolled her eyes as she grabbed the bottle and took a swig.

she passes it to sarah expectantly , causing the blonde to jump before mouthing ‘thank you’ your way and taking a drink of her own. “how ‘bout we play a game?” she suggested , giving you another turn with the liquor.

“a game?” kie repeated , tearing her eyes from the actual game in front of you.

“yeah , like we take a shot every time the boys score?” you added on , taking one already with a shrug as the ball lands on the other side of the court.

“mmm , no. that was a fluke. they’re not actually good,” sarah chuckled, “maybe every time the other team scores?”

you both look at kie , waiting for her response. “what the hell , why not?” she rolled her eyes , reaching into your purse to pluck out a solo cup she saw, “fill me up , skank.”

“oh! better than a poser!” you remarked , not surprised by her outward nastiness , before tilting the bottle and pouring her plenty liquor, “here , babe,” you muttered , filling the second cup and handing it to sarah.

soon enough the game ended with your ex boyfriend and his friends winning. it was a long game though , giving you , kie , and sarah plenty of opportunities to get drunk. the bottle only held a dribble of tequila left in the bottom after you ditched the solo cups all together.

“hey , you girls look like you’re having fun… together?” john b spoke , gladly catching sarah when she flung her happy drunk self into his arms. he kissed her , squeezing at her waist before bringing her feet back to the sand. “y’guys drunk?” he chuckled , looking at you the most suspiciously.

“it got kiara to be nice to sarah for more than ten minutes , so i’ll say it was a good idea , john b,” you remarked , tossing the bottle back into your purse all while ignoring the heat of jj’s gaze.

but of course , he wasn’t going to not say something. as you stood from the hot metal bleachers and readied yourself to order an uber , you wobbled. jj’s hand shot out , gripping your elbow to not let you fall.

“yeah… i don’t think you should be driving,” he admitted , shooing john b away. kie left the moment cleo and pope joined them , so when the brunette dragged his girlfriend off to the twinkie , it was just you.

“i’m fine,” you grumbled , pulling your arm from him and walking away. you rolled your eyes at the sound of footsteps behind you. “my uber’s like five minutes away,” you announced loud enough for the blonde to hear.

jj caught up with you , grabbing your shoulders and turning. “why won’t you talk to me?” he asked , eyes darting away when he realized that his voice sounded far more hurt than he wanted it to.

“because i dumped you.”

ouch. no shit.

“okay , yeah… but i thought we’d at least be applicable?” jj shrugged , letting his hands fall from you as his eyes fell to your chest.

“amicable and my eyes are up here,” you scoffed , hand reaching to push his chin up, “besides me not tearing into you about how awful you were to me every time i see you is amicable enough,” you added , hating that you could remember everything about your relationship so clearly.

you hadn’t seen jj in so long , and having him in front of you— really in front of you just reminded you of how much you used to miss him. sure , you liked to get on his ass about the bad stuff , but there was so much good. you recalled how much fun you had with jj , like nothing else but you and him matter. you’d ride around the island on his bike and go fishing and surfing and everything else you hadn’t done in years.

you hadn’t let yourself think about it all that much. it hurt , so you pushed it down , and now? jj’s shirtless torso was reminding you of everything you’d shoved down in the worst ways. just looking at him flashed you back into your bedroom.

late nights when jj would sneak into your room through your bedroom window when your parents were home before absolutely plowing into you.

“who’s eyes are wandering now?” jj chuckled , noticing the dazed look in your eyes.

you were caught off guard , not realizing yourself that you’d been staring. “will you drive me home?” you asked , eyes flicking up to jj’s. you knew this was stupid. you knew the moment the words left your lips.

but you missed him.

“thought you didn’t like me. treated ya bad and shit?” jj replied , already decided that he was going to drive you before you asked. but two could play cat and mouse. you’d done it before.

you sighed , looking down at your nails. “wasn’t all bad…” you whispered , reaching out to his hands before looking at the ring that adorned one of them. “y’still wear this?”

“you wear mine,” he shrugged, “nicest thing anyone’s ever gotten me. wasn’t gonna throw it out just cuz you dumped me.” he thought about it. thought about launching the silver ring into the ocean so many times , but it was the last thing of yours he had.

“i miss you sometimes,” you admitted , intertwining your fingers, “miss us.” the last bit was whispered , and jj nearly missed it as he was helping you into your passenger seat.

and as he rounded the front of the car , he definitely knew he wanted to get back together with you. he missed ‘us’ too.

#kitty!reader #ex!jj #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj prompt #jj maybank #jj maybank concept #jj maybank obx #jj maybank fic #jj maybank prompt

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fellow-fandom-fruitifier · 5 months ago

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I’ve seen so many alive!DBD au’s where Edwin and Charles meet first, or Edwin and Niko/Charles and Crystal meet first, but I raise you: Rich Payne and Surname-Von Hoverkraft families meet first. They are industry RIVALS, okay? They DESPISE each other with a burning passion and trade thinly veiled insults back and forth at every event they meet.

(More under cut cause this shit is atrociously long.)

At first Edwin and Crystal ignore each other or send glares, following their parents lead, but then they get older and Crystal starts acting out to get her parents attention while Edwin starts distancing himself from his. Both of them get the idea of, “What if I get to know the Payne’s/Surname-Von Hoverkraft’s daughter/son? My parents would HATE that.” So a friendship is formed.

In the beginning it’s toxic bitch levels of fake on both their sides, good lord they can’t stand each other. One day Crystal’s drunk off her underage ass and just starts openly venting and Edwin — the always sober guy and no it’s not cause he cares that’s preposterous!! — meets her tit for tat. Because, c’mon. Of course they’d drop random trauma on each other like fun facts.

Anyways they’re proper friends now, still appear the same — arguing is their love language — but there’s a level of solidarity now. Insert Edwin getting sent off to St. Hilarion’s for another year — Crystal threatens him to write her back per usual — and his classmates pull the prank. Not sure what 73 years in hell would be here, I’ve seen so many interpretations but I think kidnapping and torture is accurate.

While that’s going on Crystal gets a new boyfriend at her school. Any guesses?? She writes Edwin about David and Edwin does not hold back, he’s part of the reason Crystal tries to break up — it doesn’t go well, not sure how yet — and she writes Edwin about what happened craving comfort. Usually postal’s pretty fast, they aren’t that far, but she doesn’t get a response one day in. Two. Three… She finds out her best friends been kidnapped AFTER a news article has been released.

Turns out her parents knew the entire time but neglected to tell her. Crystal stops speaking to them. It’s 73 days later before she gets anymore news outside of, “The Police Are Still Looking”, and it comes in the sign of a knock. She hadn’t got much sleep that night — didn’t most nights — so she’d been wandering around her kitchen aimlessly. (As you do.) When she heart a soft rap on her front door. Curious, and too tired to care about danger or consequence, she opens the door.

Crystal doesn’t recognize him at first, he’s shivering and there’s so much blood on his- his everywhere but then a very weak voice croaks, “Crystal.” She screams. And sobs. Because what else do you do when your friend had to escape himself after 73 days of captivity and torture and the first safe place he could think to go wasn’t the police, or hospital, but you? Her parents are awoken by her scream and come rushing down because what the fuck is going on? And it’s all a blur from there — she refuses to leave his side and Edwin clings to her like a limpet.

It takes awhile of recovery and physical therapy — and regular therapy — after that but Crystal is holding his hand nigh every session, she’s there to bring him books and bicker and provide a sense of normalcy. Crystal forgets David for awhile, the only one to occupy her thoughts being Edwin because she knows he’d do the exact same. The two also get the satisfaction of watching their parents actually try to be amiable after this, it’s so stilted and awkward and they revel in it. And, yes, the tabloids somehow get ahold of the fact that kidnapped Edwin Payne fought his way to the Surname-Von Hoverkraft’s doorstep instead of literally anywhere else. Rumors pop up about his and Crystal’s relationship and the two make a teir list of their favs and least favs. Secret love child/half-siblings is their favorite, secretly dating isn’t even on the board they hate it so much.

College!!! The two decide against anything super fancy. And by that I mean they move to America together to find some community college to go to because neither want to be reliant on their parents who took a whole ass kidnapping to pay attention to them. Anyways, they share a flat above Tongue & Tail butcher shop with Jenny as their landlord. Crystal works as a freelance artist and tarot card reader (She’s really good.) while Edwin works as the librarians — Maxine’s — assistant.

Charles and Niko meet differently, Niko’s actually advertising her need for a roommate and Charles — who also moved to America to get away from his dad — takes it up. Fast friends don’t have a thing on these two. Niko gushes about this pretty girl across from them and Charles is man enough to admit, yeah, their neighbors are pretty fine. Too bad they’re dating.

———

Anyways more highlights of this AU in no particular order:

Crystal and Edwin physically recoil when Niko says something like, “Wait, I thought you two were dating?” Edwin puts his hand to his heart, too stunned to speak. Crystal fake gags and goes, “Why does everyone think that?! HE’S GAY!!”

Edwin discovers his sexuality at one of the clubs Crystal drags him to when Thomas King — older then them by a few years — flirts with him and he Panics™️. Crystal drags him away with a scathing look toward Thomas and asks if Edwin’s okay. He blurts out, “I- I’m gay?!” and Crystal goes, “You didn’t know??!?”

David tracks Crystal down to America and it’s a whole thing for obvious reasons, also because she forgot to tell Edwin about it in full — too busy helping him. This is how Crystal’s abusive ex trauma gets aired. (Charles maybe reveals some shit about his dad here too.)

Edwin and Niko go on a little faux-date together — cafe, library, just a chill day and night out — but Edwin leaves his flip phone at home and Niko’s dies. (Yes he has a flip phone.💀💀) So Crystal’s panicked as shit, last time she couldn’t contact him he was literally KIDNAPPED and TORTURED. Charles tries to calm her down before simply offering to wait up with her. When Niko and Edwin get back Crystal breaks down like, “You can’t DO that!!” This is how Edwin’s kidnapping and torture trauma gets aired.

Charles has a near death experience at St. Hilarion’s a few days after Edwin’s kidnapping. Turns out they went at the same time but Charles was a year under him and they ran in very different social circles. He gets chucked into the freezing lake and stoned still but a teacher catches them all and sends him to the hospital.

Niko’s dad died and her mom sent her to America to get away from the sadness, she caught a really bad illness and also almost died. Charlotte Knight was her Nurse. (Unrelated but she has Poliosis, which turns parts of your hair white.)

Esther is a serial killer and uses her son, Monty, to lure people in. Very brain washed Monty here sorry guys. She kidnaps Edwin who has several trackers on him — after the Niko Night Out incident Crystal and Edwin spent a night sewing them into each others coats and shoes — and the police arrest Esther and Monty.

Payneland and Palasaki of course, but this would probably be focused on Edwin and Crystal’s friendship. Yes, Niko and Charles get a shovel talk. “You know I adore you Niko and whilst I do not think you’d intend any harm, I will have to do something drastic in the event that it happens.” “Okay listen here dipshit. I have full faith you won’t hurt Edwin but if you do, intentionally or not, I will have to castrate you.”

There’s more I forgot lmfao, this is too long already😭😭 If I made any spelling mistakes no I didn’t

#tetris belies it’s wisdom upon thee #DBDA #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #crystal palace surname von hoverkraft #charles rowland #niko sasaki #jenny green #the night nurse #cat king #esther finch #monty finch #using that tag from now on #payneland #palasaki

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oncasette · 1 year ago

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𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗦 (𝗦𝗢 𝗗𝗢 𝗜)

KINKTOBER ACT II, eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 2.7k

“You smell fucking amazing,” he groans and his teeth drag against your pulse point. Before you can make any sort of comment on that, you feel his teeth puncture into your skin just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. His incredibly long and devastatingly thick fingers that are already stretching you out as they slowly thrust in.

or the one where eric has a specific taste for blood. yours.

warnings: not beta’d, smut, significant age gap (eric is like 1000, r is early 20s), dub-con, mind control on the low, blood drinking, high sex (eric's blood/v), smoking

masterlist | taglist | kinktober

When vampires had first come out of the coffin, you’d been barely above the age of seventeen, and their integration into the mainstream had been a whirlwind you’d been utterly unprepared for. Being from the south, your parents had instilled a deep sense of distrust in your fanged counterparts. Or, in your own words, fear.

Your parents had nearly tried to keep you out of college because of it, claiming you’d be much safer here at home, but you’d nipped that in the bud fairly quickly. Still, that didn’t mean you were going to let it slip to them where you were going on your evenings spent at home over the summer. All they needed to know is that you’d be home in the morning.

Your friends had been begging you to go to this bar across town with them for ages. They’d been going for years, but, being the only one in the group not willing to get a fake ID, you’d been left out of all the fun. Now, though, that you were over the legal drinking age, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to check it out seeing as your friends seemed to like it so much. Or, as you came to find out, seeing as they apparently liked the owner so much.

“You’re gonna freak when you see him,” Rachel says, looking over at you from the driver’s seat. You’d been friends with Rachel for forever, longer than you can remember. She’d gone off to school somewhere in the northeast–a liberal arts college with less than two thousand total students–and it’d been ages since you’d last seen her.

“I don’t get what’s so special about him?”

“Are you kidding me?” Rachel squeaks. “About Eric fucking Northman?”

Anyone who’d been west of Baton Rouge knew the name Eric Northman. It was undeniable. Someone could whisper the name in a corner of a packed ballroom, and a hush would fall over the crowd.

And, yet, somehow, despite living in Shreveport since your conception, it hadn’t crossed your path.

“Yeah?” you drawl. “He’s probably just some guy.”

“Some guy,” Gina scoffs.

“He’s quite literally the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” she says as she fiddles with her engagement ring. “He’s a fucking god.”

“Sure,” you say, rolling your eyes.

It isn’t much longer before you’re pulling into a shady parking lot behind a vacant liquor store. There’s a couple other cars in the lot, mostly what your father would call shit-boxes that have either been sewn together with duct tape or have bumpers that have been left to drag the ground. Slamming the passenger door shut, you reach into the pocket of your jacket to take out the pack of cigarettes, stamping one on your bottom lip as you dig further in the pocket to find your lighter.

Your friends have already walked across the lot to step into line when you finally get a light, shoving your materials back into your jacket as you jog over to where they are at the back of the, thankfully, fast-moving line.

“Really?” Rachel asks.

“Just be glad I didn’t do it in the car, okay.” You offer a squint of your eyes in a pseudo smile.

“Whatever,” she sighs.

The bouncer lets the three men in biker jackets ahead of you in and stops to examine you. She seems to recognize your friends and nods at them to follow the men, only to stick a manicured hand out in front of your chest as soon as you take a step.

“I’m with them,” you huff, tapping the ashes out of your cigarette.

“Sorry, sweetie. I’m gonna need to see some ID,” she drawls. The sweetie comes out in a sharp bite that has you taking a step away from her outstretched arm. She grabs the butt from between your lips and stamps it out beneath her stiletto’d heel.

“Fine,” you say. Digging in the other pocket of your jacket, you grab your wallet and hand over your driver's license. You’re thankful you’d just recently gotten your ID updated and have the horizontal one now, or you’re sure she would’ve kept you back. Where, you’re also sure, your friends would have left you to sit for the rest of the night.

“Have a good night,” she says, handing it back to you and allowing you to step into the crimson bar. As soon as you’re through the door, you dig your pack out and light a new cigarette. Bitch.

Your eyes gravitate toward the stage. A very large throne sits to the side of it, flanked by two overgrown men with their eyes scanning the small dance floor at the foot of the stage. The man in the throne is bigger. Much bigger. Large to the point that he dwarfs the chair you think would swallow you whole. You watch as he sits up, spine straightening as he looks the crowd over.

You don’t think anything of it until his gaze falls on you. He seems to smile, and it’s then that you see the sharp canines extending out of his gums.

You suppose coming to a vampire bar should’ve made you mentally prepare to come into contact with a vampire or two.

The man on the throne appears before you in an instant, fangs retracted as he gives you a softer smile than he’d had previously. It unnerves you, still, with the way his eyes seem glazed over and his body hovers over yours. You glance back at the stage, eyes flickering nervously back and forth as if it’d just been a trick of the lights and you’d catch him lounging there again if you blinked hard enough.

“You are… a pretty thing, aren’t you,” he says, voice growling in a register lower than you’d been expecting. It sends a shiver down your spine. He’s tall. Frighteningly, inhumanly tall in a way that has you cowering beneath him. Even seeing him on the stage before, it’s much more shocking up close. “It’s a shame you feel the need to taint it with that.”

He gestures to the stick between your lips with a flippant gesture, plucking it from your mouth to stamp it beneath his boot. What’s with everyone stealing your cigarettes tonight?

“Hey-”

“Still,” he leans down until his nose is inches away from your jaw and inhales. You don’t have the time to push him back before he’s returned to his full height.

“Who the fuck are you?” you ask, attempting to take a step back only to bump into one of the bustling–and fairly sweaty–bodies behind you. The man raises his brow in surprise.

“My, my,” he says. “Coming all the way out to my little bar and you treat me this way?”

“Eric,” you exhale. Your friends were right. He’s beautiful.

“And you are?” You give him your name in a huff.

“Follow me,” he says.

“I don’t know-” His fingers come up beneath your chin to tilt your face so that you’re like him in the eye. Something swirls within them, something you can’t place. You do your best to ignore the dull throb emanating beneath your dress.

“Follow me.”

Your legs seem to move of their own accord, hand reaching up to take his as he leads you across the dingy floor towards a door beside the bar. You dodge bodies crumpled together between tables and chairs and slink behind him as he nods at a bouncer guarding the door. Once it’s open, he gestures for you to enter first.

It’s a small office looking room. Various pictures and files line the walls and every surface is drowned in boxes and other small objects. You don’t have the time to get a good look at any of them, though, before Eric is spinning you to face him once again.

You can see the way his lips twitch as you meet his gaze, nostrils flared. His hand lands on your shoulder, dragging down the side of your arm as goosebumps sprout in its wake. You want to blame it on the fact that he’s freezing, on the fact that he’s got fangs. On the fact that he owns this whole bar and now you’re standing in his office with the door locked. Not on the fact that he’s probably got decades of experience. Or, god forbid, centuries.

“Why did you bring me here?” you ask. It comes out in a whisper, voice hoarse from swallowing hard. Breath hitching, your knees do their best not to buckle as Eric steps into you, forcing you back until your ass hits the edge of his desk. His leg comes to press between your thighs. With a nudge, his knee would be pressing directly against you, and you’re thankful he gives you the space. You inch up the desk until you’re halfway sitting on it. There’s no reason for you to be as hot as you are right now, and less of a reason for him to know about it so soon. Honestly, he can probably smell it on you.

“Why do you think I brought you back here?” he asks, hands falling against your thighs. There’s no pressure, just their presence.

“I don’t fuck random guys in bars,” you say.

He stalls, hands crawling up to rest on your hips.

“I’m the owner.”

“So I was right,” you say. “You lured me back here just to fuck me.”

He hums. You can’t tell if it's in agreement. His knee presses into you fully and you hope he chooses not to comment on how you’re pulsating against it.

“Would you like that?” he asks. He brings his hands down again, this time to the hem of your dress. He begins to push up. Slowly. Oh, so slow, you barely register it until it’s bunched up at the tops of your thighs. You’re not sure why you nod. You think if asked you at a different time, a second before or after, you would have shaken your head and allowed him to lead you back out to the patrons, to your two friends who would lose their minds if they knew where you were right now.

His mouth finds yours as he pushes your dress the rest of the way up. You can feel the way you’re leaving a damp spot against his pants and try not to whimper as he applies more pressure with his knee. You don’t succeed in that venture. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It’s not nearly as rough as you had expected it to be, but it’s far from soft. His tongue is in your mouth, licking at the flats of your teeth. His fingers dig into your skin as he thumbs at the seam of your panties, pressing it to the side enough to gather the wetness coating your slit and drag it up to your clit. Your hips jump against him.

He disconnects your lips to trail his kisses down the dies of your face and down your neck. Pulling back, he draws your eyes up to look, and the dark swirl from earlier returns. “Don’t scream,” he says. “Unless it’s my name.”

Before he re-attaches himself to your neck, you watch as his fangs click out, and you feel the cold rod of fear as it slides down your spine.

“Eric,” you squeal. You’re already dizzy, his tongue laving at the skin of your neck. Finally, he pulls back and you feel seconds away from passing out. His fingers are still inside of you, massaging your walls. His free hand comes up to his mouth, and you watch as his fangs pierce the skin there and he’s holding his bloody palm up to your mouth.

“Drink,” he says. You oblige and suddenly you’re dizzy in an entirely different way. Every touch feels heightened, every item in the room seems to glow, and Eric truly, honestly, looks like a fucking god. The open wound on your neck stops aching and you swear you feel the holes close up.

“Eric, please,” you whine. He tugs your panties down first, balling them up in his fist and tossing them somewhere behind his desk. Then his belt comes undone and he’s yanking his pants down just enough to pull his cock out of the confines. And if you thought his fingers were big before.

“That’s not gonna fucking fit,” you gasp. He jerks himself until he’s fully hard.

“Trust me, sweetheart. It will,” he says as he notches himself against your entrance.

“No, I swear, you’re gonna rip me in half!” “Trying hard not to do that, already,” he says. He pushes in with one solid thrust. Even only halfway in, you can feel him in your throat. “Feel even better than you taste.”

Your ankles link around his back and your feet dig into his ass in an attempt to get him to move, to push into you until you can feel his pelvis against yours. He does. One thrust, then an agonizing pull back before he slams back in.

Every part of you trembles as his pace picks up.

“Oh my god? Oh my god,” you squeak.

“Just me,” he quips and his head falls back. He’s fucking you at a superhuman speed, hips snapping into yours with so much force you think he’s close to bruising your cervix. And still. It feels good. It feels so fucking good. Every touch leaves you tingling and you think you’re going to explode with his hand finding your clit again. He pushes your legs open wider, allowing him to press into you further.

You’ve never been this wet in your life. Not with your vibrator, not with any of your boyfriends, not even with the one you swore you were in love with when you were a sophomore in college. The squelch of his cock driving into you rings in your ears and you don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound. A coil within you begins to wind tight, your body on the precipice of turning into jelly in Eric’s hold.

“I want you to cum for me, sweetheart,” he growls and it’s enough to send you flying. You clench around him, walls fluttering and throbbing as you feel his dick twitch in you.

As soon as you’ve regained your consciousness enough to offer him a weak smile, he’s pulling out of you and spinning you around so that the front of your hips are against the desk. He thrusts into you swiftly once more, never once faltering from the ruinous pace he’d started up previously. Your back arches into the desk. Your pussy feels raw, overstimulated, melting into the pleasure he’s driving into you. Another orgasm is sure to follow. And quickly.

“You are mine, whether you agree to it or not,” he growls. His thrusts begin to grow sloppy, cock twitching with every pump of his hips. With a final push in, he cums and offers you the first bit of warmth he’s been able to give you all night. You fall down the same rabbit hole moments later. Your entire body twitches as you do and you can barely feel anything as he pulls out of you.

He gives you a minute to catch your breath, to gather yourself and spin around to face him as you tug your dress back down your thighs. You’re panting, still, as he wipes the semi-dried blood off of your neck and brings it up to his lips to lick clean.

“No more cigarettes,” he says. “I can’t wait to see how you taste when you’re… pure.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that,” you say.

“You will.”

He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll be seeing you.”

He’s gone before you can ask what he means by that.

#eric northman #eric northman x reader #eric northman smut #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #true blood #kinktober #kinktober 23

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paigebueckersmommy · 8 months ago

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maybe not enemies pt.1 - p.b

paige bueckers x fem!roomate! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, drinking, mean paige kinda?, 1st person

a/n: i am well aware the team rooms togther but act like they don’t for this fic 🥰 also i hate this with every bone in my body.

you and paige had met briefly a few times. all you knew was you two weren’t into the same things.

it was the start of my senior year of college, and i had always taken my academics seriously, but i needed to take them more serious this year, and geting roomed with the schools biggest party animal, caused problems.

i began unpacking the suit case on my bed, waiting for my roomate to arrive. they sent an email with dorm assignments, which your roomate obviously hadn’t seen.

when i heard the door open, i snapped head. “fuck.” you heard a attractive voice say, which you didn’t wanna admit was attractive. “i’m not happy about this either.” you say making eye contact with the blonde.

“how’d you know?” paige says setting stuff down on her bed, “they sent an email.” i say looking back at my stuff.

“well, the best way to handle being roomed with the most boring person on earth, is if we agree to not talk unless it’s needed.” paige said, with an look of annoyance on her face. “agreeed, just please don’t be loud.” you say rolling your eyes, “k.”

time skip to a couple months later

you could tell paige was a little confused by your style when she mostly only ever saw you wearing hoodies, sweatpants and leggings, but tonight was diffrent.

you were standing infront of the mirror on a saturday night, putting lipgloss on. wearing a mini skirt and a mesh long sleeve, a black lacey bra underneath.

“where you going? shouldn’t you be studying or sum shit.” paige said looking you up and down from her bed. “why would it matter to you? but for your infortntion i’m going to a bar with my friends.” i say, looking back at her.

“oh my god!!! she has friends everyone!!” paige says acting suprised, not very good acting. “just because i care about my academics more than you doesn’t make me a nerd.”

“oh please, admit you’re just stating and don’t have any friends.” paige says cocking her head, when jsut then you heard a knock on your door. you opened it, your friends head peaking thru the door. “you almost rea- hey. wanna come?” your friend says, making eye contact with paige mid sentence.

“oh? inviting me? fuck it, yea lemme get dressed.”

you step out of your dorm room, shocked by the interaction. “damn. she barley talks to me i don’t know why she’d wanna come out with-“ you stopped mid sentence when paige walked out of your dorm. she was wearing white pants and a pink crop top, you had only ever seen her wear basketball gear so you were a little shocked at this.

“mm.. she knows how to dress everyone.” you say matching paige’s pace in the hallway as two of your friends were a little in front of you.

“oh i know your not talking. this is the 3rd time ive ever seen you not wear a hoodie. probobly why you don’t have a boyfriend yet.”

“b-boyfriend? i’m sorry, what makes you think i like men?” you say crooking your head words paige, curious. “o-oh i’m sorry, i just-“

“your good. i get a lot that i look straight.. but im lesbian.” you say with a soft smile making eye contact with paige, as you realize she’s also smiling.

“hm. good to know.” paige says, looking your outfit up and down, and that’s whe your mind began spinning.

did i like paige? was she trying to tell me something? were we, not enemies?

you put those thoughts to the side as you reached the doors of the bar. it was a saturday night, so it was crowded but not as crowded as it is on fridays. you, paige and your two friends found spots at the bar, paige sitting next to you as she ordered a round of shots for you two without even asking what you wanted.

“oh? thank you? your not being mean to me for once?” you say out of confusion before downing the shot. “mmm. you don’t look half as bad tonight.”

“could say the same about you.”

pt 2 soon!!!

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige buckets #kk arnold #nika muhl #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers headcannons #wlw #wlw fiction #ncaa women’s basketball

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impala-dreamer · 3 days ago

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Skin on Skin

A Supernatural Story

~ While working a case of multiple random deaths in New Jersey, Y/N finds out that the old adage of “be careful what you wish for” isn’t just a saying…~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader

6,087 Words

NSFW, Magical Curse, Unconscious and Pain, Sexual Acts of Multiple Varieties, Slight Temporary Death, Swoon-worthy Romance, Oral, All the Sex… | Originally posted to Patreon Nov 2024

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The contents of Mrs. Claudine Hofstadter's purse were piled in the center of the small round table surrounded by notepads, pens, two old taco wrappers, and a manilla folder containing a copy of her autopsy report. The fourth odd death in Warren County, Mrs. Hofstadter, new Marchant, had perished when her stomach burst after consuming seven pounds of raw horse meat. According to the report, the previous evening, she had snuck onto her neighbor’s ranch and attacked Ember Blitz, the prizewinning racehorse that was revered by the community. Mrs. Hofstadter mounted the steed and bit down into its throat, taking the creature down in under two minutes flat.

She was dead within seven minutes.

While the other three deaths were seemingly unrelated - no animals were harmed in their demises - they were certainly strange. Once Sam Winchester had picked up on the news, the trio piled into the freshly washed 1967 Chevy Impala and headed for the New Jersey mountains.

Now, the brothers Winchester were talking through various theories while Y/N Y/L/N wasted away from boredom at the table. The case wasn’t uninteresting, but she was simply too distracted by exhaustion and bodily tightness to pay attention.

Days on the road trapped in the backseat were cramped and smelly, and nights locked in a single motel room with the manly hunters were more of the same. She had no time alone, no place to escape to for a moment of peace, no moment to rub one out and calm down. She had tried that morning, waking up early and silently sneaking into the shower, but Sam was up moments later, interrupting her private time to grab his running shorts from the bathroom floor.

She was dying from stunted release.

Fading away from lack of attention.

Desperately craving a warm body pressed up against her and roaming hands groping her flesh.

Absently, Y/N fiddled with the objects recovered from Claudine’s purse. The golden butterscotch hard candies called to her, but she knew better than to eat candy from a stranger’s bag. She pushed the sugary temptations aside and sifted through neatly folded, hopefully clean, tissues, and more packets of Equal than she’d ever seen. There wasn’t much else in the pile: a well-worn Revlon lipstick in mauve, two pens, a blue emery board, and a lighter.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Dean gesturing towards her and for a moment, she tuned back in.

“Y/N agrees with me, don’t you?”

Startled, Y/N grabbed the silver lighter from Claudine’s pile and closed it in her palm. Quickly, she cleared her throat and nodded. “Absolutely, I do.”

While she had no idea what she’d agreed with, she knew it was easier always to answer each of them affirmatively or they’d know she hadn’t been listening. Besides, she usually sided with Dean on matters that required wild gesticulation, if not just to annoy Sam.

“See?” Dean turned back to his brother and the younger man groaned.

“Fine. But-”

The lighter was old and its once shining case was dull and dented by years of use. Y/N rubbed her fingertips over the cool metal, tracing the embossed lines and clicking the lid open and shut while keeping her attention on the boys.

Sam was annoyed and he ran his fingers through his hair. The chestnut strands kept to their place, tucked neatly behind his ear and Y/N found herself imagining them falling to tickle her cheek while Sam balanced himself above her in bed. She wondered what his giant hand would feel like trailing down her naked body, what his long fingers would be like tenderly weaving through her hair. It had been too long since anyone had touched her, and Sam was always so kind and flirty and-

Y/N bit her lip and sighed.

The click of the lighter lid closing went unnoticed below the heated conversation.

“All I’m saying is that people eat horse meat all over the world, Dean. It’s not that uncommon.”

Dean leaned back as if disgusted by the idea, which he was. “OK, sure, but they don’t eat enough to kill themselves. Also- gross.”

His freckled face scrunched up adorably and Y/N’s eyes sank into him. His lips were extra pink and shining, and Y/N’s nipples hardened at the thought of his mouth closing around them, kissing his way down her body, tasting her. He was just too sexy and it had been so long since she’d even kissed anyone. She needed to be touched and devoured, and Dean was always looking at her with hungry eyes, teasing her about going to bed and-

Another click of the lighter, another jolt of desire to her clit.

“So what’s with the other guy- Mark-”

“Marcus Whitmore. He was found with a bullet-hole-like wound to the temple, but no evidence of actually being shot.”

“Yeah, what about that guy?”

Y/N was completely zoned out of the conversation, staring dreamily at Dean’s impossibly broad, muscular shoulders and Sam’s tight little ass lost behind slightly baggy jeans. Dean crossed his arms, flexing his biceps, and Y/N squirmed in her chair. Sam tossed his head back, lengthening his thick neck, and Y/N bit back a desperate whine.

She rubbed at the lighter’s wheel, the dull ridges catching in her thumbnail.

“I’m not really seeing a connection here, Dean.”

“Well, something’s fucked up. Explain to me the first victim- that had to be a witch, dude.”

“What kind of spell fills a woman’s stomach with butterflies?”

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be talking about it, we’d be out ganking some bitch.”

Y/N’s body was on fire; her mind wrapped up in explicit scenes starring each man. She struggled to hold in a moan when Sam plopped down on the edge of the closest bed and threw himself back in exasperation. Her eyes followed his long form from feet to forehead and back down, lingering on the perfect line of him.

Tired of arguing, Dean pulled out the chair opposite Y/N and sat down, his long, bowed legs spread wide. Y/N’s eyes flew right to his crotch and her mouth watered as Dean unknowingly tempted her by dragging his palms down his thick thighs.

Her pulse raced. Her cheeks burned. Her pussy throbbed.

She clicked the lighter closed.

God, I need to be touched…

Sam let out a deep breath and she watched the rise and fall, wanting to run her hands over his muscular chest.

She flipped open the lid again.

I haven’t cum in so fucking long…

Dean slouched in his chair and put his head back. She blinked slowly as her pussy dripped, wanting to nibble on his throat and suck a mark by his ear.

She spun the flint wheel.

If I don’t get fucked soon, I’m gonna die.

Suddenly, her hand started to shake and she let out a hard gasp. As she opened her fist, the antique lighter began to glow bright and hot. She dropped it on instinct and a burst of white light flooded the room.

Blinded, the trio lifted their hands to block the light, but it was over before anyone could reason out what was happening.

Sam jumped up from the bed. “What the hell was that!”

Y/N’s stomach churned as panic pushed lust aside. “Um…” Sheepishly, she looked down at the lighter and cringed.

Dean, noticing her expression, grimaced. “What did you do?”

Defenses flared. “Nothing!” she protested. “Why do you always think I did something?”

Annoyed dimples popped above his plump lips and Dean held out his hand, ticking off instances as he spoke. “Spilling the potion in Rochester… Knocking over that safe in Wyoming and letting the demon loose… Taking a peppermint from the witch in-”

Sam stepped between them. “OK Stop! What was that flash?”

Y/N swallowed hard and pointed to the floor. “I think it came from the lighter…”

Calmed but worried, Sam nodded. “And why did it? Do you do something?”

Offended, Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “Et tu, Brute?”

Redness rose in his cheeks. “You must have done something!”

Y/N stood in a huff. “I have done nothing wrong, ever! Today, at least.” She sighed, feeling a little strange. “I’ve just been sitting here thinking about life and how I…” Her vision blurred but she blinked it away. “Um…” Her head felt funny as if the room was spinning, but she shook it off. “Uh… I was just thinking…” A phantom hand tugged at her legs and she swayed, about to drop. “Oh, fuck-”

Dean was quick to catch her, reaching with strong hands to set her back on her feet. “Y/N, what did you do?”

“I…” The dizziness was almost painful and her legs felt like jelly.

Sam dipped his head to look her in the eyes. “What did you think, Y/N/N? Were you holding the lighter the whole time?”

Her eyelids were fluttering; irises floating upwards. “Y-yeah…”

Still holding her, Dean pressed his palm to her cheek and instantly, she felt better.

Gasping in a deep breath, she smiled. “Oh! I’m ok.” She stood up on her own. “I think I’m better.”

Confused but optimistic, Dean let her go. “You sure?”

Feeling perfectly fine, she left his arms and nodded. “Yeah. I think I’m good.”

The moment his touch was gone, Y/N swayed again. The room was spinning and colors were brightening, nearly blinding her.

Dean grabbed her once more, this time closing his hands around her bare arms.

Skin on skin, she felt fine once more. “I’m good, Dean. Really.”

Pushing away, Y/N moved free of his touch and instantly hit the floor. Her balance vanished and her breaths were slow and strained. As she crumbled, Dean followed.

“Son of a bitch!” He gathered her into his lap and clasped her hand. “What the hell were you thinking about?”

Y/N breathed deeper, feeling a thousand times better. “Just about…” Awkwardness tightened in her gut as she looked up at Sam. “...Your ass.”

The imposing tower of a man blushed.

Dean tensed up and chuckled. “My ass?”

Y/N shook her head. “No. His.”

“Uh…” Shyly, Sam straightened up and tried not to grin. “Thanks?”

Disappointed, Dean groaned. “Yeah, well…” He caught Sam posturing proudly and wagged a finger at him. “You shut up.”

Once again feeling right, Y/N sat up and away from Dean. In a split second she went from well to bad. A terrible pain gripped her stomach and she coughed up a mouthful of hot bile. “Oh God- Dean, I’m…I think I’m dy-”

“Whoa, hey!” Dean pressed his hand to her forehead, feeling for a fever. “Hang on.”

The pain vanished and she swallowed the nasty taste. “This is not fun…”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

The second Dean removed his hand from her head, Y/N lost consciousness, dropping like a stone to the ground.

Sam fell to his knees to help but Dean got there first, scooping her up back into his lap and gently shaking her. He held her cheek and called her name softly.

“Y/N, come on…”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Guys, I think the lighter is cursed.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, no shit.” Shifting, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a well-worn navy bandana, waving it at Sam. “Don’t touch it-”

Sam took the rag and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to.” Carefully, he wrapped up the magical lighter and placed it back on the table to be examined later.

“I feel horrible,” Y/N muttered, shifting against Dean to sit up a bit.

“I bet.”

He pushed away to give her room and immediately regretted it as her eyes rolled back to white.

“Damn it!”

A hand on the back of her neck brought her back and Y/N groaned. “Don’t.”

Dean flinched, ready to pull away. “I’m sorry- I just-”

Y/N shook her head and grabbed his wrist, holding his hand on her neck. “No. Don’t stop touching me. Please.”

Confusion circled the room, washing over them like a midnight fog.

Sam leaned against the table, looking back and forth between Y/N and the lighter. His eyes narrowed. His brow creased.

“Y/N, what exactly did you think?”

Nerves ran down her arms. “It’s embarrassing.” Carefully, she stood up, Dean’s wrist still clutched in her hand. “I don’t wanna say.” Faced with confession, she forgot her predicament and dropped Dean’s hand. The floor undulated like a tidal wave, knocking her off her feet.

This time, Sam was there, his overheated hands delicately holding her elbows. His touch surged through her and Y/N looked up with a hazy smile.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I think you need to.”

Sighing, she slid her hand down Sam’s massive forearm and slipped her hand into his, holding on. “Well… It’s been a long time since… ya know.” She shrugged at Dean and then up at Sam, hoping they would catch her drift without writing it in the sky. “And… you guys are always around and I…”

Dean climbed to his feet and crossed his arms. “Spill it.”

Y/N screwed her eyes closed tight and grit her teeth. “I thought… ‘If I don’t have sex soon, I’ll die’!”

One eye peeked open at Dean who frowned. “Son of a bitch.”

The other eye joined to find Sam rubbing his free hand down his cheek. “Son of a bitch.”

Y/N chuckled nervously. “Oops?”

Generally speaking, a curse can be broken in one of two ways: kill the witch who cast the spell, or destroy the object that carries the magic.

Since there seemed to be no witch around to dispatch, the hunters turned their attention to the lighter. Looking back through the case files, Sam found two instances where other victims had the antique firestarter in their possession at the time of their death. There was no way to track the origin of the offending trinket or know how it moved from person to person, but it was more than clear that it instigated a deadly game of wordplay with its victims.

Y/N squeezed Dean’s bicep. “So, the second vic, Mark-”

Sam rolled his eyes and carried on preparing the table for a fire. “Marcus. Whitmore.”

“Yeah, that guy. He… Well, I mean, it’s pretty obvious he said something like “I need that like I need a hole in the head!”... right?”

Dean held back a laugh. It wasn’t funny, but it was funny. “Yup.”

“And the first woman- she had butterflies in her stomach. I get that. Also… ew.” Picking up the lighter, Y/N let go of Dean without thinking and began to fall flat on her face as the air left her lungs. Thankfully, Sam reached over and grabbed her hand in time. She smiled gratefully. “But what happened to Claudine?”

“Easy,” Dean said with a smirk. “She was so hungry she could…”

Y/N cringed. “Eat a horse. Got it.”

Dean licked his lips, accentuating his grin. “Hey, Sam says it’s not that bad… I’d try it.”

“I’ve seen you eat a taco off a dirt road.”

He nodded. “And I’d do it again.”

Sam interrupted by clearing his throat and passing Y/N’s hand back to Dean.

Without further discussion or ceremony, the lighter was blessed with salt and ironically, lighter fluid, and set ablaze by a single match struck by Sam.

The trio watched it burn. The metal glowed a bright orange and sparks erupted as the magic was released into the ether forever.

“Well, there’s another one for the books,” Dean commented victoriously.

Y/N sighed happily. “Thanks, guys. And I’m sorry. I promise not to touch anything dangerous again.”

Sam laughed sweetly. “Don’t make promises you won’t keep…”

Turning away from the boys, Y/N threw her free hands up into the air and rejoiced. “I’m free!” She spun once and felt her stomach lurch. “I’m…” Momentum pulled her into another spin and the ugly red-floral wallpaper began to dance a dizzying tango. “I’m…” The third spin had her legs twisting and her knees buckling.

She hit the floor like a heap of useless bones, crumbling down like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Sam reached her first and revived her with a sweep of fingers across her forehead. Y/N gasped and sat up, exhausted and defeated.

“I don’t think it worked.”

Sam sighed. “It didn’t.”

Near tears, she looked between the brothers, desperate to be unburdened by the deadly magic. “What now?”

Sam looked up at Dean who tried his best not to smirk while balling his right hand and placing it over his left palm.

Sam won, and with Y/N’s consent, carried her to the bed farthest from the door.

Dean hung his head, muttering something about rocks and scissors, and set off to take up residence at the bar on the corner while the deed was done.

Nervous and still holding hands, the pair lay together for a long while. The silence was loud but not uncomfortable, as neither knew what to say or how to begin.

Suddenly worried, Y/N turned onto her side to face him. “Ya know, if you don’t want to, I get it.”

“No!” Realizing he answered too quickly, Sam cleared his throat and smiled. “No. I want to. I’ve wanted to forever. I mean… Uh… It’s just a little strange.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his confession and pushed her fingers through his. His hand was so much bigger than hers, so much stronger. She looked away shyly, but Sam pulled his hand free and set it upon her cheek, drawing her eyes back to his.

His kiss was hesitant but Y/N urged him on. She hummed against his lips and tipped her head to the side, giving him room to move. He licked into her mouth and a dizziness overtook her, this one just as magical, but so much better. She closed her eyes as her lust grew and rolled onto her back, taking him with her.

It wasn’t easy to undress, and each layer of clothing shed had Y/N nearly passing out again only to wake up safe in Sam’s arms. He was gentle with her, kissing his way down her body, tracing her curves with his hands. His skin was hot, his movements sure. He was stirring her passion and literally keeping her alive.

Sam held himself up on strong arms, hovering over her just as he had in her daydream. He bent to kiss her lips and his hair fell into her eyes, swept over her lips, tickled her cheek. She reached with a careful hand to push it back behind his ear and Sam smiled, touched by the tender gesture.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, hazel eyes hazy and locked on her face.

She burned for him, every inch of skin tingling and calling out for him. Y/N spread her legs around his trim hips and squeezed him between her thighs. He felt her wetness against his cock, the heat coming off of her sex.

She rocked her hips, pressing the tip of him into her pussy.

He sucked in a quick breath and shivered.

“Please, Sam…”

“Are you sure?”

She smiled sweetly and nodded. Sure, they had to do it, but she also wanted it. She wanted to feel all of him deep inside. To experience the magic of Sam Winchester.

“So fucking sure,” she breathed, wrapping her hands around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

He sighed and dipped to kiss her again, slipping his tongue between her lips and drawing out her breath. She moaned into him and dug her fingers into his flesh, needing him more than anything.

Slowly, he pushed inside. Her vision exploded into fantastic clarity. Colors danced, the lights seemed brighter, and the world was right again. She held her breath as Sam jerked his hips, fucking her with long, deep strokes that made each muscle tighten around him.

A deep kiss closed her eyes; a hard thrust made her gasp.

Sam kept her riding the edge of bliss for longer than she thought possible. He moved his body with precision, playing her lust like a musical instrument. She dug her nails into his shoulders and chewed her lip to hold in a chorus of blasphemy that would shock the angels watching above.

“God, you feel amazing,” he moaned.

Shifting between her legs, Sam pushed her left knee up high and the new angle made her eyes roll back. She could feel her pulse raging in her cunt; the pleasure building higher with each thrust.

Sam threw his head back as he quickened his pace. Sweat was beading on his brow and upper lip, glistening on his firm chest. He held her knee up against his side and grunted with each pulse of his hips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

His jaw dropped. His eyes squeezed shut. His body went stiff and then shook as he let go. In the depths of a ragged breath, Sam whispered her name and then fell down, covering her completely and kissing her lips.

“You are incredible.”

Y/N gripped his arm and kissed his shoulder. She sighed happily and snuggled deep against him as he rolled over.

“That was so hot, Sam. Thank you…”

He blushed at her thanks and kissed her again. Once he started, he didn’t want to stop, but exhaustion struck him hard.

“How do you feel?”

Y/N paused for a moment as she took stock of herself and then smiled gratefully. “I think I’m cured!”

“That’s amazing,” Sam said with a sigh. “I’m glad you’re OK.”

“Thanks to you.” Y/N let her eyes trail down to his cock. “And you.”

With bright red cheeks and a shy laugh, Sam turned away and grabbed the blanket from the floor, covering himself. “Be right back.”

Y/N winked as he left and Sam shut the bathroom door.

Staring into the mirror, he took a few calming breaths as his mind replayed what had just happened. He was amazed and excited, shocked and sated. He laughed thinking about how many times nearly dying had brought him closer to someone, and he was glad this time it was Y/N.

Deed done and hands washed, Sam walked back into the bedroom. “That really was something amazing, Y/N,” he mused, reaching for his discarded shorts. “I mean… I guess I can tell you now that I’ve thought about it before… A lot, but…”

Y/N hadn’t answered or looked up. She was turned on her right side, her head softly laid upon the pillow, fast asleep.

Sam pushed his head through his gray tee and smiled at his sleeping beauty. Carefully, he moved to the side of the bed and pulled the sheet up over her shoulder, tucking her in. An overwhelming surge of happiness struck him in the chest and he bent to kiss her soft cheek.

Her skin was cool.

“Y/N?”

Sam shook her shoulder but she didn’t wake.

“Fuck. Y/N!”

He grabbed her face between both hands but she didn’t stir.

“Come on, come on! Wake up!”

Keeping one hand on her cheek, Sam grabbed his phone from the floor and rushed to dial Dean’s number.

The phone rang in his ear and another rang outside of the room.

The lock turned and Dean stuck his head through the door. “You decent?”

Sam huffed and threw his cell down. “Get in here!”

“Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t interrupting grown-up time,” Dean joked, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“Dean.”

“How’d it go?”

His answer was found as soon as he shut up and looked over at his brother. Sam was crouched down at the side of the bed with his hands on Y/N’s face and bare arm. She was unmoving beneath the sheet, not even the rise and fall of her chest was visible.

Dean froze.

“What the fuck happened!”

Frantic and confused, Sam shook his head. “I don’t know! We… ya know. And she was fine! I got up to pee and-”

Dean raced to the bed. “And ya killed her!”

“She was fine, Dean!”

Green eyes examined the scene. Y/N was still as in a deep sleep, but the absence of breath told him otherwise. “Do the hand thing! Touch her-”

Tears strained against his eyes and Sam looked up at his brother, desperate for any help. “I am. It’s not working.”

“Fuck. Fuck!”

The wheels turned in Dean’s head and before Sam could say another word, Dean was tugging his jeans down and ripping his shirt off.

“What are you doing?”

Dean shrugged and climbed into bed beside Y/N. “I don’t know, but this can’t hurt.” Naked but for his boxers, he pulled back the sheet and rolled close to her. He covered her in his arms and crushed her face to his chest. He held her there, counting the seconds until he felt her breathe again.

Magically, the air returned and Y/N started shaking beneath him. She struggled to push away and coughed life back into her body.

Dean swallowed hard and rubbed her back. “Jesus, Y/N/N, you scared us.”

“What the fuck happened?” she asked, wide eyes looking between the brothers for an answer.

“Romeo let you die so he could go pee.”

Offended, Sam popped up from the floor. “That’s not what happened, Dean!”

“OK, stop yelling.” Y/N tugged at the thin white sheet and pulled it with her as she sat up. Her body was aching but not in a good way. The lights hurt her eyes, her head was pounding, her chest burned. “I, um… I feel really like- like crap.”

Dean scooted closer, keeping one hand on her. “I know.”

She looked up at Sam. “But why? We… didn’t we?”

He shrugged. “We did. It should have broken the spell.”

Dean bit back most of a smirk. “Did you stick it in properly?”

Despite her swaying pain, Y/N laughed with him.

Sam did not find it funny in the slightest and rubbed at his temples. “I know how to- Damnit, Dean!”

A true smirk pulled through.

Y/N shivered. “I don't get it. I thought…” The answer smacked her in the face and she cringed. “Oh.”

Dean leaned in. “Oh?”

Sam narrowed his gaze. “What’s ‘Oh’?”

“Well…”

The brothers sighed in tandem.

“I maybe…”

They hung on her pause.

“I maybe thought something else right before the sex thing and I-”

“Y/N…”

Sam’s disapproval and exhaustion went through her like ice and her defenses rose quickly.

“I didn’t realize the thoughts went together! Hell, I wasn’t planning on this!”

He softened and sat on the edge of the bed by her side. “It’s OK. I’m sorry. Obviously, this wasn’t planned.”

She smiled sadly and tucked her arms around her knees, hiding.

“What exactly did you think before the sex thing?”

Her stomach flipped nervously. “Uh… well…”

Dean squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Come on, can’t get worse than this.”

She took a breath and then spelled it out. “I was watching you guys and thinking about how I haven’t exactly had time alone and… well, how I haven’t come in forever and… then the sex thing.”

Silence floated around above them while the pieces fit together.

Dean licked his lip. “Wait…”

Y/N hid her face in her knees.

Sam’s eyes went wide.

“Did you not- come?”

She tried to play it off, to act like it wasn’t a devastating thing for Sam to hear, but it wasn’t great. “I mean… it was really nice, Sam. Like really hot.”

Dean tried to hold on and not laugh out loud. “But he didn’t… You didn’t… finish?”

Sam growled. “OK, shut up, Dean! It was stressful.”

The elder cocked a brow. “Did you?”

Standing up, Sam turned away to hide his awkwardness.

“You did!” Dean sucked his teeth in disappointment. “Tisk, tisk, brother. Ladies first. Always.”

Y/N shivered as Dean turned his eyes to her and dragged his fingertips down her arm. “He didn’t do anything wrong, I just didn’t… get there.”

“Sure you didn’t.” Dean shifted onto his knees and looked into her eyes. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

Sam was out the door before Dean had tossed his leg over Y/N’s middle, pinning her to the bed. He grinned and wet his plump bottom lip. “Never leave a boy to do a man’s job.”

Y/N laughed but lost the glee to arousal when Dean dropped down close. He held himself barely an inch away, too far to kiss, but close enough to breathe in. He smelled like crap beer and wing sauce, and suddenly it was the most appetizing scent in the world. She lifted her head and took a taste, kissing him hard and licking deep into his mouth.

Dean’s eyes closed and long lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks. She smiled and drank him in.

“Hi.”

He laughed gently. “Hey. You cool with this?”

“Do I have a choice?” she teased.

“There’s always a choice.”

“You know what I mean.” She turned her face away, embarrassed and unsure.

He chased her. “You wanna know if I’m just doing this to save your life?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

Dean let her linger for a second longer than was kind. He closed his eyes, gathering up the right words.

“I don’t want you to die,” he said finally. “But I also want you to cum on my tongue.”

Her entire body shuddered with need and he savored the look of passion in her eyes. He kissed her softly and she scratched her hand through his short hair making him growl into her mouth.

Never creaking the connection, Dean moved slowly down her naked body, sweeping his lips over each dip and curve, igniting every nerve he touched with tingling fire. He licked at her pulse, blew a gentle breath over her ear, strummed her lips with his thumb.

When his hot mouth closed around her nipple, Y/N arched upwards, as if she was a magnet and he a slab of iron. She curled her arms around his shoulders and dragged her nails down between his shoulder blades. She could feel his shiver and it drove her mad.

“You’re so fucking hot,” she mumbled, shocked when the words came out.

Green eyes looked up and Dean grinned. He didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes was enough. A flick of his pink tongue forced her back down onto the pillow and Dean slithered down to settle between her thighs. He slid one thick finger through her wetness and then matched it with his thumb, carefully spreading her lips apart.

His breath was slow and hot, and her clit hardened when he held his lips there, not touching but teasing, letting her need grow beyond what she could stand.

“Please…”

Dean pulled away and dropped kiss after kiss to the soft flesh of her inner thigh. She squirmed and lifted her hips, whined when he passed over her pussy again.

“Dean- please…”

He sucked a kiss on her outer lip and Y/N cried out, utterly desperate for him.

Looking up, he licked his lips slowly and Y/N dropped her hand to his head, swept her touch down his temple, curled her fingers around his ear.

“Please,” she begged, near to tears. “I need you.”

Dean moaned under his breath. “You got me.”

Tongue flat against her pussy, Dean lapped at her wetness before sealing his perfectly plump lips around her clit. Sparks pulsed bright white behind her closed eyes as he licked and suckled, devoured her heat. When her legs began to shake, he slid his middle finger into her, his knuckles disappearing as he sank deep inside.

“Fuck!”

She gripped the bed sheet.

His tongue rippled against her clit.

Her eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and she came with a tight-lipped shout, her hips bucking up into Dean’s handsome face.

“Goddamn!”

She panted and wiggled to get away, but Dean refused to let go. If she scooted back, he followed. She squirmed to the left, he pulled her back.

Finally, he pushed his arms beneath her legs, hooked his hands around her hips, and tugged. Trapped, Y/N had no choice but to hold still and let him carry on.

He started slowly, winding the tip of his tongue gently around her pulsing. Y/N sighed happily as her heart rate calmed and her breathing caught up. She stretched her arms out across the bed, enjoying the attention and the feeling when he hummed against her skin.

“You’re… really fucking good at this,” she whispered.

Dean pulled up with a kiss and a wink. “Did you expect anything less?”

Y/N shook her head and lost all thought as he dove back down and picked up speed.

Words were piercing the air. Unintelligible, filthy, cursed words that had to fight through clenched teeth to be heard.

Her toes curled and dug into his back.

His fingers pumped into her, forcing out another orgasm, but Dean wasn’t satisfied. He rubbed deep inside until her shoulders were off the mattress and her breath was stopped in her throat.

Her eyes went wide and he held her gaze as her body convulsed and let go. A hot stream flooded his mouth and the cheap bedding below. Dean drank her down and kept thrusting, eeking out every last drop until she collapsed and whined, pushing at his face to move him away.

“Fuck! I can’t… that’s never happened before-”

Smug and a beautiful mess, Dean climbed back up to frame her from above. His lips were swollen and his jaw ached, but he’d never looked so content.

“You just needed a little help, is all.”

Y/N shook her head and pushed herself up to kiss his glistening mouth. “No. I just needed you…”

It was a while before Sam returned, and thankfully, everyone was clothed and clean when he opened the door.

Y/N was lying on the bed with Dean by her side. His hand was resting on her stomach and she covered it with her own.

Sam took a hesitant step into the room. “How’d it go?”

A grin lit Dean’s face and Sam held up his hand, halting the details.

“Never mind.” He looked to Y/N. “How are you feeling?”

She sighed happily and sat up. “Amazing.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am. I promise.” Pushing Dean away, she leapt up from the bed and stood in front of Sam. “See? No touchy.”

He exhaled in relief. “Good. I’m glad.”

Reaching for his hand, Y/N smiled up at him. “Thank you, Sam. You saved me.” She kissed his hand and his cheeks burned bright.

“Hey!” Dean cleared his throat and looked offended. “I helped.”

Y/N laughed. “Yes. Yes, you did. Thank you, too.”

“So… what now?” Sam asked, still clinging to her hand.

“Now… we move on. Lighter’s destroyed so no danger there.” She smiled sweetly and turned away to grab her laptop. “I’m sure there’s another case lurking just around the corner.”

Sadly, Sam let her fingers slide away.

“Yeah. Probably.”

It wasn’t what he meant, but he didn’t want to get into anything else just yet. Y/N was safe and that’s all that mattered.

Other things, other feelings could be dealt with another day.

As if reading his mind, Dean walked up and clamped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. The brothers passed a look between them, promising never to talk about it, and to be civil in the forthcoming fight for Y/N’s affection.

Light was shining from the screen, lighting up her smile as Y/N looked up at the guys. “I think I got something! Three bodies turned up in the woods about two and a half hours south of here. Buzz online is that it’s the Jersey Devil.”

Dean laughed and turned away. “No such thing.”

“Sure there is!”

Sam shook his head and ran his hand through his hair to right the mess. “Sorry, Y/N. It’s not real.”

Y/N huffed. “So sex curses are real but winged, kangaroo-looking monsters in the forest aren’t. That’s what we’re going with?”

A shrug.

A smile.

A story for another day.

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raven-dor · 5 months ago

Note

hii, can i reheat a harry potter x reader?? i dont really have anything specific in mind except maybe the reeder could be a slytherin and it would take place during the 5th book/movie so his friends, Sirius and the rest of the order of the phoenix are telling him to stay away from her or something?? that would be an interesting dynamic, i think?? Some angst and of course fluff maybe??

Thank you❤️

us.

In which harry potter falls for forbidden fruit

PAIRING: harry potter x slytherin!reader

WARNINGS: AU where cho and harry aren't a thing, angst, anxiety, dissaproval, arguing, death eaters, mentions of death, fluff

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

Her hair was wild and free, Harry had noticed over the years. She’d tried to control it with a maroon ribbon, but it always fought against her. She’d always been around, at Quidditch games, the Triwizard tournament, always watching. She didn’t make herself known, which Harry found odd. Most people at Hogwarts wanted to make a name for themselves, but Y/N Rosier kept her head down.

She had good grades, good enough to rival Hermione’s. She was kind; he’d observed her caring for a crying first year on more than one occasion. And she was friends with Luna, and he didn’t take Luna for being someone with a bad taste in friends.

He’d thought about her this summer before his mind was preoccupied with wondering if he’d even be allowed to go back to school. Thankfully, Dumbledore saved him.

Again.

He was sulking in Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer and could often be found staring out the window longingly. Sirius had even sat beside him one day, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “What’s troubling you?”

Harry looked at his godfather curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen that look before.” Sirius laughed. “Your father looked out windows constantly while he thought about your mother. Who is she?”

“She-” Harry sighed. “You wouldn’t like her.”

“I’m sure she’s wonderful.”

“She is.” He looked back out the window. “She’s kind and smart. Caring, too.”

“Sounds like I was right.” The man smiled. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Harry smiled back but didn’t respond. In truth, he hadn’t talked to Y/N once in their entire time at Hogwarts. How do you introduce someone to your godfather that you’ve never talked to before?

The first time Harry talked to her was on the third day of school. He’d just had his second detention with Umbridge, the wicked old toad when he saw her walking into the Defense classroom with a solemn look on her otherwise serene face.

“Rosier,” Harry spoke.

She stopped as if surprised he was talking. She gripped her wand. “I don’t want-”

Harry laughed. “I’m not- I’m not trying to attack you, I promise.” He smiled lightly. “Why are you in here then?”

She hummed. “Same as you, I suppose.”

His eyes widened. “You have detention?”

The girl smiled. “Something about betraying my house and defending…” She turned red, shaking her head. “Anyways, I have to get going.” She nodded, walking further into the classroom. “Bye, Potter.”

The second time Harry had talked to her, he’d spotted her from across the pitch. The first practice was always a sort of train wreck, but people still came out to watch. If there was one thing about Hogwarts students, almost all were too involved with quidditch. Bets were placed, fights broke out, and points were taken away and given carelessly. It had amused Harry when he was a first year.

Now, he was tired of it.

He’d spotted her Slytherin scarf before he’d seen her. The way his heart started skipping was embarrassing. His cheeks were pink; he knew it, and he thanked Merlin that she was too far away to see. The way his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of green and silver confirmed his thoughts: if he hated Slytherin that much, then there was no telling how much Sirius, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of them would act. She was reading, occasionally glancing up to watch the practice. She was the only one sporting green and silver in the crowd of red and gold, which made him think, why was she here?

He knew for a fact she only hung around Luna and Cho, so why was she at a Gryffindor quidditch practice? Angelina yelled, knocking him out of his trance. “Oi! Watch for the snitch, Harry!”

He saluted her, flying higher into the sky as he shook his head. Godric, give him courage. And strength.

Angelina called it a day hours later, and Y/N was still there as if she was waiting for someone. He felt jealousy bubble up in his stomach. Who was she friends with on the team? He flew directly above her, putting on his most charming smile. “Waiting for someone?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know any Gryffindors. Besides Granger.”

Harry nodded, trying to fight the grin that threatened to give away his crush. “You know me.”

“And Hermione.” She added.

“That’s all you need to know, really.”

She laughed, and in that moment, Harry vowed to make her laugh forever. “I don’t want to keep you.”

“You’re not.” He responded too quickly. “I mean-”

She stood up, waving. “I’ll see you around.”

“I-” His voice got caught in his throat, and all he could do was wave back at her disappearing figure. “Bye.”

Sirius’s face had appeared in the fire out of nowhere. Once Ron and Hermione had gone to bed, his godfather’s tone switched to a light one. “So, how is she?”

“She?” Harry tilted his head. “Who-” Oh. Harry flushed. Sirius had remembered their conversation. “She’s good.”

“Good?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Have you talked to her?”

“Once.” He smiled. “She’s quiet.”

Sirius smiled. “The quiet ones.” He laughed. “They’re tough to crack but very worth it.” His godfather held a sad sort of look on his face like he was reminiscing on a lost love. “Be patient with her, Harry.”

“I am,” Harry responded. “But she seems so sad.”

“Well,” Sirius whispered. “Give her a reason to be happy then.”

The third time he’d talked to her, she had approached him. Mainly because he hadn’t even seen her coming, too wrapped up in his thoughts, too wrapped up in all the chaos that his fifth year had produced. He was trying not to pass out from the pain that stabbed at him from the back of his hand. He’d thought he was used to it, the quill that cut into the back of his hand, but a weekend off made him weak.

“Potter?” He hadn’t responded. “Harry?” She tried. That had made him stop and look up. He smiled, but she could tell something was wrong.

“Rosier, hi.”

“What’s wrong?” She whispered. “Are you hurt?” She checked him over while he stared at her. She was touching him. Merlin, he thought. Soon enough, she’d find his scar. She gasped. “Your hand.”

He laughed, pulling his hand out of her hold. “It’s nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking rather upset at him. That wasn’t a look he thought she possessed enough attitude in her body for. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought. “Harry…” She pulled up her sleeve, the back of her hand holding a matching scar. “You get used to it after a while.”

“She did it to you too?” He scoffed. “What did your parents say? That’s-”

“My parents suggested it. Thought it would teach me a lesson.” She laughed, smirking. “Little do they know, the only lesson it taught me is to never trust them again.” Harry grinned, and she shoved him lightly. “Why are you smiling?”

“You’re just-” He laughed. “Not what I expected.”

She laughed back. “Well, if it’s any consolation, neither are you.”

Harry did not want to be here. He’d made that abundantly clear to Hermione, who simply ignored him. Ron laughed at his best friend, who was practically dragging his feet to the meeting. “Bloody hell, mate. It’s only a meeting. You’re acting like we’re marching you to your death.”

Hermione glared. “Poor choice of words, Ronald.” Rubbing her hands together, she walked into the old building. “We’re here.”

Harry whispered to Ron. “Where exactly are we?”

“No idea, mate.”

Harry groaned. “Who’s supposed to be meeting us then?”

“Just a couple of people.”

They stumbled up the stairs, and Harry fought the murderous glare toward Hermione. There were definitely more than thirty people, not a few. The boys sat down, but Hermione stayed standing. “You all know why we’re here. We need a teacher. A proper teacher. One who’s had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts.”

“Why?”

Harry looked through the crowd, glaring at the boy who spoke. Ron scoffed. “Why? Because You Know Who’s back, you tosspot.”

“So he says.”

“So Dumbledore says.”

“So Dumbledore says because he says. The point is, where’s the proof?”

“If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed-”

Harry pushed out of his chair. “I’m not going to talk about Cedric, so if that’s why you’re here, you might as well clear out now.” He whispered in Hermione’s ear. “Come on, Hermione, they’re just here because they think I’m some sort of freak…”

“Is it true you can produce a Patronus charm?” Harry looked over, his eyes widening when he made direct contact with hers. She was here, standing beside Cho and Luna.

Hermione nodded. “Yes. I’ve seen it.”

“Blimey Harry. I didn’t know you could do that.” Dean looked amazed.

“And he killed a basilisk with the sword in Dumbledore’s office.”

“Third year, he fought about a hundred Dementors at once.”

“And last year, he really did fight You Know Who.”

“Wait.” This was all so overwhelming, and now that he could feel Y/N’s eyes staring into him, he felt like he was burning. “Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn’t know what I was doing half the time; I nearly always had help…”

“He’s just being modest.”

“No, Hermione, I’m not. Facing this stuff in real life is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow. But out there, when you’re a second away from being murdered or watching a friend die right before your eyes, you don’t know what that’s like.”

“You’re right,” Y/N spoke, the room turning to face her. Murmurs echoed through the room; what was she doing here? “And I know that none of us want to know, but it’s inevitable.” She smiled softly at Harry. “So teach us. Because Voldemort is coming, and it’s only a matter of time until we have to fight, too.”

Harry nodded, truly smiling for the first time that day. “Exactly.”

The room lined up, signing the parchment of paper Hermione had brought as a sort of roster. When Y/N had gotten to the front, he’d straightened his posture, smiling widely. “Rosier. Good to see you.”

She smiled back. “Wouldn’t miss it.” She sighed her name, waving. “See you, Harry.”

Ron squinted his eyes, staring at his best friend curiously. “What is a Slytherin doing here?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno. Probably heard about it from Cho and Luna.”

Ron scoffed. “How do you know they’re friends?”

“Because I-” He panicked. “Cedric told me they had a Slytherin friend.”

Ron nodded but was unconvinced. Harry felt horrible for not saying what he truly felt; he’d had a crush on Y/N for a while, not Cho, contrary to popular belief.

Harry had lost his breath when he saw her walk in beside Cho. She didn’t look any different than normal, he supposed, but her smile was bright, and she looked happy. He walked over. “Rosier.”

Y/N turned toward him, blushing. “Harry, you can call me by my name.”

He grinned. “I’ll try. No promises, though.” He clapped his hands together, surprised at how clammy they felt. “Excited for the first meeting?”

“Very. I love DADA. Especially the days that we practice. And this is practically that so…” She smiled. “I’m very excited.”

Ron called out, ushering Harry over. The boy sighed. “I have to-”

She nodded. “Go. I’ll be here.”

He practically raced through his welcome speech, jittering about knowing Y/N was watching him. The DA formed a single line, Neville going first in their disarming exercise. He was nervous, and so was Harry, but he suspected for two completely different reasons. Neville held up his wand, waving it carelessly. “Expelliarmus!”

Somehow, his wand flew backward, flying through the line as people ducked out of the way. Harry tried not to laugh, but when he spotted her giggling, a grin broke. He put his hand on Neville’s shoulder sympathetically. “Next time.”

Y/N was next, smiling shyly at him. “Harry.”

He nudged her. “Do you know how to cast a disarming spell?”

She nodded. “Of course I do.”

He smiled wider, stepping back. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She flicked her wrist quickly, her voice firm. “Expelliarmus.” The ‘death eater’s’ wand vanished like dust, the dummy swaying back and forth. She nodded, satisfied with her work. Harry clapped lightly. “Perfect. That was perfect.”

What he’d actually wanted to say was, ‘You’re perfect.’

“Stunning is one of the most useful spells in your arsenal. It’s sort of a wizard’s bread and butter, really.” Harry stopped at the opposite end of the room, facing his opponent. Y/N smiled reassuringly at Nigel; he looked frightened.

She understood. She would be, too, if she were facing the Boy Who Lived.

Harry clapped his hands. “Come on, Nigel, give me your best shot.”

Nigel tightened the grip on his wand. “Stupefy!”

Harry flew back, hitting the wall, but funnily enough, so did Nigel. Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth. “Good.” Harry gasped. “Not bad at all, Nigel; well done.” He stood up, looking at the crowd. “Perhaps that’s enough stunning for today.” He smiled. “Anyone fancy a duel?” Y/N stepped forward, smirking. Harry’s smile grew. “Rosier.”

“Potter.” She gripped her wand, standing on the opposite side. “Ready?”

He nodded, eyes full of determination. “Are you?”

“Impedimenta!”

Harry couldn’t even get a word out, moving at a sloth's pace. She smirked, sending one more spell his way for good measure. “Depulso!” He flew back, the room gasping. Her spells quickly faded, and she walked over, smiling shyly once more. “I’m sorry, was that too much-”

Harry had never been more in love with her than in that moment. He shook his head, scrambling to his feet and addressing the crowd. “Take notes, everyone. Rosier here gave you all a perfect example of how to best an enemy.” He gestured to her, clapping. “Fantastic work, Y/N.”

She blushed, shaking her head. “Please, it was nothing.”

Y/N watched in horror as Draco started chanting. Ron wasn’t Y/N’s friend by any means, but he was kind enough, and Draco publicly embarrassing him would not end well. She marched over, hissing at the bright blonde. “Stop that this instant.”

Draco’s eyebrow rose. “And what will you do about it, Rosier?”

“You-” She crossed her arms. “How would you like it if Gryffindor started chanting about how your dear daddy is a death eater?”

Draco’s eyes widened, but he continued. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She stalked away, standing back with Luna. “I can’t believe you actually wore it, Lu.” Her friend was wearing a giant lion’s head made of paper mache. Y/N was very sure the students behind her were less than happy with the obstruction to their view.

Luna smiled. “Interesting you’re standing in Gryffindor’s section, Y/N/N.” She raised an eyebrow. “How is Harry?”

“He’s fine, we actually-” Y/N stopped, glaring at her friend. “Why do you ask?”

Luna smirked but said nothing. “No reason. Curiosity, I suppose.”

The game wasn’t fair, and when it ended, Y/N felt the tension in the air. She raced to the field, panting from how fast she ran. “Harry!” She called out. He turned around hesitantly, practically glowing from anger. Her stomach flipped, even if he was angry, he still looked gorgeous. Walking closer, she smiled brightly. “You did wonderfully. You’re an amazing seeker.”

He blushed, still visibly upset from Slytherin’s actions. “Thanks.” He opened his mouth and then closed it.

Y/N smiled. “I’m sorry about Draco. He’s obnoxious.”

Harry scoffed. “That is one word to describe him.”

“Harry, I wanted to say-”

“Well, well, well.” Y/N rolled her eyes, turning around to face Draco. “I heard you were a blood traitor, Rosier, but I never thought it was true.”

She crossed her arms, standing beside Harry. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Draco hissed. “Stooping down to the likes of Potter, I can tolerate. But Weasley?” He smirked. “You know, he was raised in a bin.” He looked at Harry. “Did you like that lyric Potter?”

Harry didn’t respond, grabbing Y/N’s hand and pulling her towards the team. She blushed but didn’t fight it; it felt nice, knowing that he wanted her beside him. Draco continued. “We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called as Alicia hugged Harry tightly. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly--we wanted to sing about his mother. And we couldn’t fit useless loser either, for their father.”

Y/N clenched her fist, tapping her foot impatiently. Harry smiled; it was endearing to see how upset she was for them. He whispered, rubbing the back of her hand lightly. “Just leave it.”

Draco continued once more. “You like the Weasley’s, don’t you, Potter? Spend the holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I supposed when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells okay-”

Harry let go of Y/N’s hand, grabbing George. The lot of them were seething, and Y/N understood, not far from it herself. “Or perhaps," Draco said, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter. And Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it-”

Y/N snapped, glaring. “Draco, stop this right-”

Harry and George charged at the Slytherin, and she gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth in shock. Good on them, she thought. It serves him right, talking like that about their family. And as much as she loved that Draco was finally getting what he deserved, she couldn’t watch as they got in trouble. “Stop! Harry, stop!” Alicia, Katie, and Angelina were still holding Fred back, and Hermione, Y/N assumed, was off comforting Ron.

Madam Hooch practically glided over. “Impedimentia!” She placed her hands on her hips, appalled at the sight before her. “Never have I seen such a disgrace. Go to your Head of House immediately!”

Y/N followed after Harry, casting healing spells over the cuts he acquired while walking. “Harry, I’m so sorry. He shouldn’t have said that.”

He glared at the ground, humming at her touch. “S’fine. Just-” He scoffed. “Thanks for-”

She shook her head, placing a daring hand on his cheek. “You don’t need to thank me for anything. Just take it easy; we don’t need you in any more trouble.” She smiled, whispering. “I don’t need you in any more trouble. You’re too important.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thank you for the reminder. It’s not as if I hear it everyday.”

“Harry…” Y/N blushed, murmuring. “I wasn’t talking about that. I meant…” She sighed, stepping away. “Never mind.”

He grabbed her hand, pulling her back. “Say it.”

She smiled. “Harry…”

“Y/N…” He looked desperate, and it broke her resolve instantly.

“You know that I care about you, and you’re-” She hesitated. “You’re important to me.”

Harry stood by the mirror, staring at all the newspaper clippings that hung on its borders. So many people lost, so many people still lost, but all he could think about was Y/N. You know that I care about you. He’d been thinking about it ever since she’d said it, his mind constantly on her. What was she doing? What class was she in, and what hairdo had she done?

Those were all fine thoughts, but not so much when you had a secret class to teach. They’d just had their last term lesson, and Harry felt relieved. He felt terrible thinking it, but he did. A cough broke through the silence, tearing him from his thoughts. “Harry? Are you alright?”

He didn’t turn around but nodded. “Fine.”

She smiled, stepping beside him and staring into the mirror. “You look worried.”

“Really?” He turned toward her, a surge of confidence racing through his veins. “Odd, I don’t feel worried.”

She rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly. “Confident today, I see.” Y/N blushed, whispering. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” He stepped closer. “I like you.”

Her eyes widened, and she scoffed in shock. “Harry!”

“I’m sorry.” He grinned. “I’ve been trying to deny it, but- I can’t.” He leaned down. “I like you. A lot.”

Her eyes watered, and she shook her head. “Harry, I don’t deserve-”

“Yes, you do.” He grinned, panicking that she wasn’t completely on board already. “Unless you don’t like me?” He backed away, bright red and staring at the ground. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

Her lips pressed against his quickly. “I do like you. I just-” She backed away. “I can’t.”

Break had been a nice reprise from Hogwarts. Even if it meant not seeing Y/N every day, he thought about what she said over and over and over. It was becoming habit now to think about what she said constantly. I do like you. I just can’t. What did she mean by that?

Harry stared out the window once more, gripping a cider in his cold hands.

“May I assume that she is on your mind again?” Sirius laughed, sitting beside his godson. “What’s happened now?”

“She kissed me.” He looked helpless, and Sirius couldn’t help but laugh again. “And then she told me that she liked me-”

“Well, that’s great-”

“But she couldn’t.” Harry leaned his head back against the chair. “What does that mean?”

Sirius was at a crossroads. Assuming the worst, that meant she was in danger, and assuming the best, she felt like she wasn’t good enough for Harry or something of that nature. “What could possibly be the problem?” Harry didn’t answer, refusing to look his godfather in the eye. That had scared Sirus. Had Harry fallen for someone he shouldn’t have? “Harry?��

“She-” Harry didn’t want to tell Sirius. At least, not like this. Sirius was known for hating Slytherins. What would he say when his godson told him he liked one? “I-”

“Harry, I support you, no matter what.” His godfather smiled. “Nothing you could say could upset me.”

That made Harry feel reassured enough to form the words. “Don’t be mad.”

“I won't?” Sirius felt nervous.

“She- She’s in Slytherin.”

Ah. Sirius felt conflicted, smiling awkwardly. “Well, that doesn’t mean anything. Not all Slytherins are bad. I’m sure she’s-”

“She’s a Rosier.”

“What?” Sirius whispered. The Rosiers were known for their extremely dark nature and affinity for He Who Must Not Be Named. “It wouldn’t be Y/N Rosier?”

Harry faltered. “Why?”

“Harry, the Rosier’s are not to be trusted.”

“She’s not like-”

“NO!” Sirius hadn’t realized how upset he’d become. “Harry, listen to me-”

Harry stood up, shocked at how quickly Sirius had turned. “You don’t know her. She’s kind and-”

“So was Evan Rosier.” Sirius fought. “Her father. He was my brother’s best friend, and he-” His voice broke. “Is the reason Regulus is dead.”

“Sirius, you don’t-”

“Harry.” His godfather’s eyes were dark. “Don’t fight me on this.”

Who was Sirius to tell him what to do? Y/N was nothing like her family, and, at least to Harry, practically was doing the same thing that Sirus had done nearly 20 years ago. “Sirius, she doesn’t get along with her family. She got-”

“Harry! Leave it alone!” Sirius was glowering with anger. He huffed, stalking off into his study, leaving Harry deeper in his thoughts than Sirius had found him.

His argument with Sirius had put him in an even worse mood than normal, stalking about the castle with an invisible storm cloud over his head. He was a hypocrite, Harry had decided. If he had just heard him out, surely Sirius would understand. He entered the library, pulling out a crumbled piece of paper and started drafting a letter.

Key word started, because about two words in, he heard sniffling, and he became distracted. He walked into the aisle, surprised to see Y/N openly sobbing. “Y/N?” She seemed startled, and tried to wipe the tears off her face, but Harry was quick. He stood in front of her, wiping of her tears gently. “What’s happened?”

“It’s nothing.” She smiled. “How was your break?”

“Y/N, don’t lie to me.” He laughed to ease the tension. “Not many people cry in the library.”

She scoffed, staring at her hands. “I beg to differ. Many a panicked student cry while staring at their homework.”

“Y/N…” He sighed. “You can tell me.”

“I-” She sobbed again, trying to fight it. “My parents threatened to kick me out.”

His eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“I-” She whispered. “I can’t tell you.” It’s like she had practiced it her whole life, because in seconds, her entire demeanor changed from sad to calm and collected. She stood straight, and walked away from him without a second thought.

Harry was thoroughly confused. Running back to grab his things, he pulled the map out and followed after her. She looked over her shoulder, shock evident on her face. She turned back around picking up her pace. He groaned, running to catch up. “Y/N, wait!”

She whipped around, running into him. “Leave it alone Harry!”

Leave it alone.

He now knew that was his least favorite phrase of all time. He shook his head. “No.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her down the hall. “Come on.”

She rose an eyebrow, but didn’t fight him, following after. “What are you doing? Going to kill me?”

He rolled his eyes, not looking back. “I need you to trust me.”

She blushed, murmuring. “I’ve trusted you for a while, Harry.”

The wall in front of them changed, her eyes widening. “What-”

“The Room of Requirement.” He smirked. “You should know this, Ms. Top of our Class.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “I’m not-”

“Top of the class. I know.” He sat her down on the couch, sitting beside her. “But you practically are.” Holding her hands in his, he whispered. “Tell me what happened.”

“You know my parents are…” She sighed. “Avid supporters of Voldemort.” Harry nodded. “Well, now they want me to also become an avid supporter of Voldemort.” His eyes widened.

“You said no, right?”

She glared lightly. “Of course I said no. To which they responded, you will do this, or you will not have a home to come back to.” Her eyes started tearing up again, and she fell into his arms. “What am I going to do?”

He pulled her close, sighing. “I don’t know Y/N. But I’ll figure it out. I swear.” He kissed her temple, whispering. “I swear.”

He knew she hadn’t told them, he just knew. Harry swore to everyone who told him, Y/N would never tell Umbridge a thing. She had to scars to prove it. Everyone that had once been in Dumbledore’s Army had practically ostrasized her, with the exception of Harry himself. Hermione and Ron were quiet about the subject, but Harry knew what they thought.

For the first time in his life, he hadn’t cared. Y/N was kind and loyal, she wouldn’t have betrayed them like that. She wouldn’t have betrayed him like that. Besides, it wasn’t Y/N that Filch was holding when the walls had been blown in, it had been Cho.

Yet everyone immediately blamed Y/N. Simply because of her house.

He rolled his eyes, glaring at the fire. Ron laughed, nudging him lightly. “What did the fire ever do to you?”

He glared at Ron. “You think Y/N told, don’t you?”

“Harry-”

Hermione stayed quiet, which came as odd to him. “Have anything to say, Hermione?”

She sighed. “Harry, you have to understand… she’s in-”

“Slytherin, I know. Merlin himself was in Slytherin.” He scoffed. “I don’t hear the entirety of the Wizarding World shaming him.”

“It’s different.” Ron mumbled.

Harry whipped his head around. “No!” He stood up, glaring at his friends. “She would have never done something like this. You don’t know her like-” He took a deep breath, realizing the other lingering students were staring. “You don’t know her like that.”

Hermione was beet red. “She didn’t do it.”

Harry tilted his head. “What did you just say?”

“I know she didn’t do it. I- I charmed the parchment to expose any traitors.” She was now whispering, staring at her hands. “The only person that ‘betrayed’ us was Marietta Edgecombe.”

He was now fuming. “You knew? You knew and said nothing?”

Ron was standing in between the two. “Now wait just a minute-”

“NO! She defended you, she defended all of us, and you just leave her to the wolves?” He felt livid. “What sort of people are you?”

Hermione sighed. “Harry-”

He was already gone, the portrait slamming against the wall.

Ron and Hermione had apoligized to Y/N, and Harry, for behaving horribly. Harry had felt a sense of protectiveness over Y/N that he hadn’t felt since becoming friends with Ron and Hermione.

Sure, school had been horrible, but at least he had had her and his friends. And Sirius.

Not anymore though, he thought bitterly. Because Sirius was dead.

He was going through Sirius’s belonging in Grimmauld Place when he spotted a letter, addressed to Prongs Jr. Harry had rolled his eyes. He ripped the letter open, eyes watering at it’s contents.

Harry,

After writing Dumbledore multiple letters, I found that you were correct, Y/N Rosier does not get along with her family. From his accounts, she is like you said, kind, caring, and smart. You’re a lucky man.

I feel horribly about our fight. You’ve always seen the good in people, and are rather optimistic for such a melancholy boy. You’re parents would have been proud.

I’ve told you this many times, but I feel trapped in my own home. I know Uncle Alphard meant well by keeping me heir, but I swear if I ever see him again, I’ll give him a peice of my mind.

I meant what I said before you left, we’ve all have light and dark inside of us. Thankfully, Y/N has chosen to hold onto the light. Her family cannot say the same. I should never had judged her so harshly, and for that, I apoligize. To both of you. I understand all too well what it is like to have a wicked family. Hopefully you forgive me, and bring her around the old prison soon.

You are a good person, Harry. Never forget that.

Your Godfather,

Sirius Bla-

The words on his last name were scribbled, and Harry could only assume his godfather had been writing this answer when Remus told him what was happening at the Ministry. A single tear fell down his cheek, and he angrily wiped it away. “Harry?” He turned around, smiling at his girlfriend. “Oh Harry, it’s alright.” Y/N knelt beside him, huggin him tightly. “He’s still with you. You know that.”

Harry laughed, nodding. “He wrote a letter to me. The day he died.”

She smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

“He talked about you.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Oh.”

Harry smiled, kissing her cheek gently. “I love you.”

“Harry!” She scoffed, shoving him away and standing up. “What have I said about-”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She glared. “Now, will you please help me move my things in here? I feel bad enough that Dumbledore himself is letting me stay in a house that isn’t even mine.”

Harry rolled his eyes, stood up, and followed after her. “Sirius would have wanted you to stay here, trust me.” He smirked. Besides, this is technically my house."

Y/N laughed. “Sirius didn’t even know me.”

“He did,” Harry teased. “In a way.”

Y/N sighed, turning around and hugging Harry quickly. “He was a great person Harry.”

“He was.” He agreed, looking deep into her eyes. “And you are too.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

#harry potter #literature #fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #order of the phoenix #harry potter x slytherin!reader #slytherin!reader #evan rosier #marauders #sirius black #x reader #🪩! fics

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

Text

A Good Boy | 1. Surrender

Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good. Loosely based on this ask.

A/N: This is stepmom!reader x virgin stepson!harry. There is a 7 year age gap and Harry met her at the age of 19. He is 21 in this story.

Word count: 21.4k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, inappropriate relationship between a stepmom & virgin stepson, smut

A Good Boy Masterlist

Her husband, Leonardo, was the kind of man that could only be described as a provider. Not a lover, not a sweet man, not a gentle soul. Just a provider. Her mother asked her why she was marrying the older man, “Y/n he’s 15 years your senior! It’s preposterous! He’s rich but you can find real love…” She’d heard it all. But she was interested in having nice things. Being able to finish her art and history degree and go to the tennis club and shop with her girlfriends.

He also bought her the cutest little red Mercedes and the biggest diamond ring. And his house was- well it wasn’t just a house. It was an estate sat in the Hollywood hills near other celebrities and affluent humans (or robots she sometimes thought). She even had her own bedroom. It was an odd setup for sure, but a setup nonetheless.

Leonardo made it clear. He wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a pretty thing with a good head on her shoulders that he could fuck when he needed and buy nice things for. Someone to bring with him when he had to show face at events and parties who could hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. She could do that. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man either. He was fit and tall with a deep voice and his deep pockets were just the cherry on top.

Did this make her a gold digger? She supposed that yes, it did. But what of her husband? This was what he wanted too. No one was being tricked. Everything was very simple and clearly defined. Down to the fact that she could sleep with anyone she wanted as long as she was discreet and didn’t give him the details. The same went for Leo.

Though Y/n hadn’t been interested in sleeping with anyone else, she was certain Leo did on his business trips and “boys-only vacations” he often took with his friends.

Y/n wasn’t bothered by the lack of love or the fact that her marriage wasn’t conventional. She was getting everything she wanted and she was happy. Sure a little intimacy was nice but she had close friends and so far, that was all she needed.

. . .

“Leo! Marla is here with the Uber! I’ll see you later!” She shouted toward his study as she made her way out the door. It was Friday night. Girl’s night. Every other Friday she, Marla, Cyndee, and Gina met at Murphy’s Lounge to dance and drink a few too many martinis. It was always fun. Sometimes she flirted with some man who wanted to dance. But never anything more. She could have if she wanted. More. She could have done more but she never felt the need. No one interested her enough to make that sort of leap into partaking in the open aspect of her marriage.

The bar was full, as it usually was at 8 pm on a Friday night. Gina and Cyndee had already secured a table and had cocktails in hand when she and Marla got there.

And just like every time the four of them got together, they acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in ages. Sometimes they could be overly dramatic in their greetings but they genuinely appreciated one another.

“Okay. The first round is on me, but the rest is on Daddy Leo,” Cyndee bubbled out her words in laughter.

Y/n playfully smacked Cyndee’s arm, “Oh so now you’re calling my husband Daddy?!” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I am. He’s a Daddy, Y/n. Like, there’s no way you don’t call him Daddy when-“

Y/n placed her hand over Cyndee’s mouth, “Oh my god you’re too much sometimes! No more talk of Leo! The rest of the drinks are on him and we’ll leave it at that,” she laughed.

That was usually how it went. Leonardo picked up their girl’s night tab and paid for their taxis or Ubers.

“Okay. We’re just gonna get our drinks and we’ll be right back.” Marla swept Y/n off to the bar so they could order their usual drinks. For Y/n it was a nice stiff lemon drop martini.

Marla ordered a whisky sour, with extra orange slices and then rambled on about Ryan, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They were on again at that moment but she was wearing thin, once again.

“Why do you do it to yourself, Marla? If you want to be done then just be done. You’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. I feel like you could do better anyway. Ryan’s nice but I think you two have run your course.”

“Ughh… I know, Y/n. God do I know. Easier said than done. There’s so much history, and friends in common. And we have a fucking dog together! I just… I don’t know.”

The bartender handed them their drinks and then Y/n gave the guy her credit card, “Please put this card in place of Cyndee Daniels tab. We’ll use this one instead.”

Josh was the bartender that evening. A cute college-aged young man with a bright smile who always remembered her name.

“Of course, Ms. Y/n. Will swap these out. As usual.” He winked.

She leaned over the bar as she took a quick sip of her martini while Josh went to retrieve Cyndee’s card. She looked down the bar at the faces of other patrons and suddenly was met with the clear green eyes of Leo’s son, Harry. Her stepson. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her and it wasn’t as if Y/n had done anything wrong but she just hadn’t expected to see him there.

She leaned up again, peering around the woman sitting on the stool to her left and her eyes landed on the young man. Freshly shorn dark curls and a soft pink smile crooked up as he spoke animatedly to the guy sitting next to him. And just as she assumed he hadn’t seen her he turned and looked at her squarely, his lips moving as he spoke something to his friend then nodding in acknowledgment at Y/n before pulling himself off the stool he was on and making his way across the bar to her.

“Is that Harry?” Marla spoke as she leaned in.

“Yes, it is.”

Harry was a nice young man. He was polite, sometimes overly polite she thought, and he was charming. Y/n liked Harry. She didn’t know him all that well. He lived on campus at the university so she saw him rarely. But she did recognize that he’d cut his hair. He had long dark curls when she first met him. He looked like a bad boy, covered in tattoos with a permanent smirk on his face. But once she got to talking to him, she realized, he was a big sweetheart really. The long dark hair and tattoos were just a look. A style. Harry was a nice young man.

The truth was, all the girls joked about how attractive Leo and his son were. Both men were quite handsome. Y/n couldn’t deny that. Harry was tall like his father and built nicely. Long legs and a well-muscled chest. A great jawline and crystal green eyes that allured.

“Hi, Y/n. Marla,” Harry spoke as he looked from Y/n to Marla.

And that was another thing about him. He always remembered everyone’s name. He had met Marla maybe twice, yet here he was drinking beers at a bar and remembering the name of Y/n’s best friend whom he barely knew.

“Hi Harry,” Y/n smiled up at him, “Like the hair,” She reached up and whisked a finger into a short curl before bringing her hand back down into her own space.

Harry smiled broadly, a glorious dimple digging into his cheek as he raised an arm and ran his long fingers through his soft dark hair, “Oh! Yeah. Thank you. Got it cut a few weeks ago. Still getting used to it. Um, how are you doing?”

“Good. Girl’s Night, you know,” she shrugged and looked over at Marla who stood next to her, “We’re here every other Friday for some dancing and drinks,” when she turned her gaze back to Harry’s his soft eyes were intently watching her as she spoke. “Um, yeah. How are you? How’s school?”

Harry tipped himself forward to his toes and then lowered back down to his normal height, “Good. S’good. Already looking forward to Spring break,” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah! Me too. I’m not even in school anymore and I’m already making plans,” she chuckled.

Suddenly something dawned on Y/n. Her eyes went wide and then she squinted as she looked at her stepson, “Wait. You’re not 21. You’re too young to be here, Mister.”

Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, “I know. I know. But I’m turning 21 in two weeks. Figured I’d try out my fake ID once in my life. Before it’s too late,” he grinned.

“So you’ve never done this before?”

“Nope. First time. And of course, my stepmom is here when I do. Just my luck.”

Y/n laughed and her smile almost hurt her cheeks it was so wide.

A small jab to her side reminded her that Marla was still standing there, “Oh, sorry. Yeah. We should be heading back. We’re just over there if you want to stop by and say hi to the girls.” She pointed to the table where Cyndee and Gina were already watching the scene.

“Sure. Yeah. Of course. Um, it was really nice to see you, Marla,” Harry smiled gently at her and then looked back down to Y/n, “I’ll come by and say hi before I leave.”

The moment Y/n got to the table Cyndee pulled her arm, “Your stepson. Oof. He’s really attractive. Have you and him ever… you know?” She joked. Of course, Cyndee knew better.

“Oh stop it! Of course not! He’s a 20-year-old kid!” Y/n spoke in exasperation.

“You’re only 27, Y/n. You’re not much older. In fact, you’re closer to his age than you are to Leo’s,” Gina said.

Now Gina was usually the voice of reason so to have her on Cyndee’s side was ludicrous. Of course, she knew Cyndee was teasing but still.

Y/n took her seat and rolled her eyes as she took a healthy gulp of her sweet and tangy martini.

“And his haircut. God, he’s adorable like that. Damn,” Marla spoke next to her.

The music eventually began to grow louder and the martinis were going down far too easily. Especially after dancing and working up a sweat away from her seat. But one thing that didn’t change through the night was that her eyes kept finding Harry’s. It was like she couldn’t stop glancing over at him. But it didn’t help that every time she dared to peek he was looking at her already.

She couldn’t be sure that he was watching her dance but there was something about just the idea that he might be that had her swaying her hips a little more sensuously and using her hands to rub down her body like she was some kind of sexpot. But in truth, her dance moves were definitely subpar. But three martinis will tend to make one feel unnecessarily bold.

Y/n decided on just one more drink. A fourth martini to round out the night, plus she wanted to walk up to the bar near Harry and talk to him a little bit more. Just a friendly little tease about how he was only sitting and not dancing. Even his friend had gotten off the stool and danced with a young woman on the dance floor for a bit.

“You’re not really making the most of this special night, Harry,” she elbowed at his arm gently as she leaned over the bar to wave at Josh.

“What do you mean?” Harry’s eyes were a little red and he was quite obviously a little drunk.

She looked down at his wetted lips and back up to his pretty eyes, “You’re not even dancing. Just sitting here like a lump drinking beer after beer.”

“Ms. Y/n, another lemon drop?” Josh spoke as he put his hands on the bar top in front of her.

“Yes, please, Josh, and close it out too. I think all the girls are done for the night.” She laughed.

She turned back to look at Harry, “So no girls here you want to dance with? Even your buddy got out there a little bit. Where is he by the way?”

Harry turned around and looked over his shoulder for his friend and shrugged, “Maybe shagging in the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in a while now that I think of it. And no. No girls here I want to dance with.”

Y/n pouted and tilted her head as she reached up to touch his hair again, “I’ve seen a bunch of pretty girls around your age here, Harry. Some even checking you out. You should get out there and dance a little. Really fully experience Murphy’s Lounge,” she looked over her shoulder and then leaned in to speak quietly, “It’s your last chance with your fake ID,” she smiled as she tugged his curl the smallest bit.

Harry smirked, “Child abuse!” Craning his neck away from her fingers, he patted at his hair as if the tiny tug had hurt.

She rolled her eyes as Josh returned with the drink and her card, “See you in a couple weeks.” He smiled at her before returning to the other customers.

Harry’s features became serious again, “You know him?”

Y/n sipped her martini and nodded, “Yeah. We’re here often enough. So, yeah.” She shrugged keeping her eyes on her adorable stepson. Okay, maybe it was more like adorably handsome stepson, but still.

“Come. I’m gonna put this away,” she lifted her card upward as she motioned him to follow her, “And you and I are going out there to dance a little. We’ll find you someone cute to groove with a little.”

She expected Harry to protest a bit but he didn’t. He stepped in behind her and followed her to her table with his beer in hand. He stayed close to her as she bent down to slip her credit card into her purse. The security in the room always watched their table so no one took their things or tampered with their drinks (and the nice little tip Y/n, by way of Leo, didn’t hurt either).

“Leave your beer here. We’re gonna need our hands free!” she giggled as she pointed at the table.

“You’re okay to leave your drinks out like this? Thought that was a big no-no.”

Y/n looked in the direction of the man standing a few feet away, “He’s watching over the table. Now come on!”

The floor was packed with warm bodies moving and gyrating. The music was loud and the rhythmic base could be felt underfoot. She’d long lost sight of the girls as she began to sway and raise her arms upward.

Harry stayed close to his stepmom’s side and shuffled around a bit. His body was a bit stiff but he laughed when Y/n grabbed his hands and made him spin, “Loosen up a bit! Come on, Harry!”

Rolling his eyes he grinned and began to dramatically move about, trying to feel the beat and push down how awkward his movements felt.

Y/n kept her hands on his to encourage him to move with her and they both laughed as Harry began to relax into it a bit. His big smile only widened as the song was switched up to something that felt quite naughty and suggestive.

She released his hands because it felt like he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention she was beginning to enjoy the way his big hands fit around hers. And that couldn’t happen.

She turned around and continued swinging her hips and, moving with the rhythm as best she could. Long moments went by and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get back into the swing of dancing and feeling the freedom and excitement of her night.

A hand pulled at her hip from behind and she opened her eyes and turned to see her stepson towering over her from behind. She hadn’t expected the sudden grip he had on her so she turned in confusion causing his palm to fall away. Harry looked over her shoulder and then dipped down to speak into her ear, “A man came over and was just about to try something with you. Wanted to discourage him a bit. Sorry.”

Y/n followed where he was looking and there was indeed a man there looking at her. And it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for this to happen. She dealt with these things well usually. Sometimes she’d dance a little and flirt a little but that was it. It didn’t bother her. It was all in fun.

She chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shoulder to speak in his ear, “You don’t have to worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl. But thank you.”

Harry licked his lips and turned his face toward her to speak, “I know you’re all grown up. Just didn’t want to see that with my own eyes is all.” His words were spoken close to her ear, his deep baritone vibrating from her neck and over her ear as she turned to look at him, only he didn’t move his face away and their gazes connected for a moment longer than felt innocent.

She swallowed and a small smile plucked upward on her lips, “Okay. Do you want to stay close then? Protect from the predators while I dance?” Her smile widened and she laughed but Harry’s smirk felt like something just the opposite of funny as he looked down over her face and to her neck and then over her lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” his smirk remained as he shook his head and then in a surprise motion turned her around to face away and put both hands at her hips as they began dancing together.

She could feel his heat from behind her and his fingers held onto her hips possessively but she liked it. Especially when her hips moved to the beat and Harry’s hips moved behind her. He wasn’t pressing himself into her backside but she could feel him moving with her. He was keeping a polite distance. Though, everything that was happening was very inappropriate.

It was inappropriate because she liked it. Because this attractive young man behind her was looking at her in a way she noted was not innocent. Because she’d been obviously flirting with him at the bar. Because Harry was her stepson.

When the beat dropped low and the song slowed to something even more provocative and playful they both slowed and she felt Harry’s thumbs on the bit of skin exposed between the bottom hem of her blouse to just above her skirt’s waistline. His grasp on her skin was burning into her flesh, his fingers gently brushing and then squeezing at her.

“You’re not a bad dancer,” Harry remarked into her ear and she felt his chest press into her back.

And without thinking too deeply about it, or perhaps it was the martinis that left her so uninhibited, she dropped her head back and toward his mouth and felt his lips at her ear, “I’m a terrible dancer. But thank you anyway.” She laughed.

Harry chuckled into her ear, not backing away from how she’d leaned into him but instead pulling at her just enough that his fingers pinched her waist and she could feel him smile as he spoke against her ear, “Nothing about you is terrible, Y/n.”

His deep tone gave her a chill and goosebumps traveled down her neck and over her bare arms. Her good sense had been momentarily suspended as she smiled and dared to move her bottom into his hips.

When she heard his groan in her ear she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his, pressing his hands flat over her waist so she could feel his long fingers under hers, feel his warm palms digging into her skin.

“Better stop. I’m getting a little,” Harry suddenly backed off, his hands releasing her hips and she turned to look up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed and his pupils were large, making his soft greens appear dark and heavy as he looked at her with an unmistakable glint of lust. She was sure she looked the same.

“Of course. Yeah. It was fun, though,” she smiled as she began to head back to the table. Harry followed.

They slid into the booth and took their drinks, letting the music of the bar fill in the gaps of their silence.

Y/n realized she was wet. She scolded herself inwardly. Her stepson was off-limits. Hell, to her most men were off limits because she was married (despite her open marriage). But especially Harry. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let everything that had happened slip away without acknowledgment.

They were both drinking and so that had something to do with her behavior. With his. But mostly hers because she was the stepmom. She should have known better.

“Sorry we didn’t find you a cute girl to dance with,” she offered as she rounded her eyes and grinned, trying to make light of everything and ignore what had just happened between them.

Harry shook his head and looked down at his beer, then shifted his eyes to hers, “I think we did find me a cute girl to dance with,” he licked his lips and huffed a laugh shaking his head again as he lifted his beer.

“I’m done done done! Some guy bought me two shots. On top of the four cocktails I had. I’m fucked. I need to get out of here so I can crash into bed. You okay to leave with me?” Marla was suddenly plopping down at the table as she slurred her speech.

Y/n laughed, glad for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Harry’s comment, “Yeah. We can get out of here. Where’s Gina and Cyndee?”

Marla pointed at the edge of the dance floor. Two men flanked them with drinks in hand.

“As you can see, they’re fine.”

Marla, Y/n, and Harry stopped by to say goodbye to Cyndee and Gina before leaving the loud bar. The night air was sobering as she used her Uber app to call for a taxi. Harry stayed with them, like the gentleman he was until their ride showed up.

Marla flung herself into the car as Y/n squeezed Harry’s arm, “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you… I don’t know when, but this was fun! Yeah? Oh! It’ll probably be for your birthday, right? Party at our house. That’s right,” Y/n was mostly talking to herself. They were throwing him a party. Of course, it was going to be a big bash. Tons of college kids and family and drinking since he was turning 21.

Harry nodded, “Yeah. Weekend after next. Saturday. I think I’ll come over Friday night and stay the whole weekend.”

. . .

Harry had always liked Y/n. She was sweet to him from the start. Right off he could tell she wasn’t like Leonardo’s other girlfriends. He’d gone through a lot of them and when he decided he liked Y/n enough to keep around, Harry was genuinely happy about it. His dad was kind of cold and overly structured at times but he always took care of his family and Harry wouldn’t mind having Y/n around. He was 19 when he met her.

Harry’s mom left Leo when he was just a boy. She remarried years later and Harry hadn’t seen her so happy ever. He chalked it up to his dad’s standoffish behavior. He barely showed Harry, love, even. But It was okay for Harry that way. His mom was warm and raised him well. She showed him more love than he’d ever need in a lifetime. She made up where his dad lacked.

So for that, Harry did feel a bit sad, for Y/n, who had such a bright smile and contagious laugh, to marry such a cold creature as his father. The kind that his mother left. His friends joked that Y/n was a gold-digger and they urged him to try and mess around with her. See how far he could take it. But that was out of the question. Not because his stepmom wasn’t smoking hot, but because she was his stepmom. There was just so much wrong with that.

It did irk him, though, that he found her so pretty. But it wasn’t just that. She was smart too. She was easy to talk to and she could keep up with Harry’s little goofy jokes and she never took herself too seriously. Despite having her lips painted red and wearing high-fashion couture courtesy of Leonardo Styles, she was fun and kind.

Harry also benefited from his dad’s money, though. Just because he opted to live with his mother until college didn’t mean he didn’t have everything he wanted. A nice car, nice clothes, vacations with friends, concerts, sporting events, the newest cellphone. Leo didn’t bat an eye if Harry wanted something. And eventually even gave him a credit card to use for anything he wanted.

Yeah, Leo Styles was fucking wealthy. Dirty wealthy. The kind that people hate to see because it’s so excessive and unnecessary that it’s ugly.

But what could Harry do? His dad was a little cold and filthy rich. He didn’t control how his dad dealt with his money, though plenty of people also lumped Harry in with all that. Assumed he was some spoiled rotten brat who’d grow up like his father.

And that was just the thing, though. His dad wasn’t mean or bad per se. He was just rich because of the Styles’ family fortune. And he rarely showed any emotion. His dad did do nice things for the community and donated to good causes, threw fundraisers, and funded schools for children with special needs and gymnasiums for the local children who didn’t have a place to go and play freely.

And he wanted a wife that was smart and pretty. Someone with a brain who could handle a good conversation with grace. Harry understood the arrangement well. There was no love involved but it was a marriage of convenience for both of them. No harm, no foul. Harry didn’t mind it. Others seemed to have heavier opinions about it, though.

“Damn, Harry. You gotta do something about that. She keeps looking over here at you. While she looks like that? Let’s get your v-card taken care of once and for all.”

“Stop it, Jay. She’s my stepmom.”

“So? You told me yourself she’s just married to your dad for the money-“

“No, that’s not what I said. And it doesn’t matter what kind of thing she and my dad have going on. It’s not gonna happen.”

“God look at her. She’s fucking fine, Harry. She wants you too. I can tell. Look you don’t have to take my advice but this one,” he said as he gestured toward Y/n, “She’s a tiger in bed. I guarantee. Look at her move. Bet she could show you a thing or two.”

Harry shoved Jay and shook his head as he looked away before he was caught staring at his stepmom again.

She was hot. Her skirt was short and her little top kept riding up so he could get the tiniest peek of her waistline each time she raised her arms. Harry didn’t want to let his mind wander to those kinds of places. He’d already recognized how gorgeous she was. Liked her personality and how funny she was. If she were younger and not his stepmom, maybe. Maybe.

“Rebecca’s over there. I’m gonna go dance with her a bit. Sheila is too. You should come out and dance! Meet someone! Get laid!”

Harry sighed and sipped his beer as he leaned away from Jay’s arm, “No thanks.”

He did want to get laid of course. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have found a willing participant. It just hadn’t ever happened. He’d messed around a bit but in all honesty, Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around a quick fling or something that was only sex. He liked connection and love. Wanted that whole thing with someone before getting to that point in the relationship. He knew it was silly to take it so seriously. And it wasn’t like keeping his virginity was his goal. It was just that he wanted it to be with someone special. Yeah, he was a bit of a sap like that.

But no one would know it really. That Harry was a big sap. A virgin at almost 21. Only his closest friends knew and they were sworn to secrecy. People assumed Harry had had lots of sex. That he was fucking people left and right. Because Harry was a flirt. He was super smooth and confident and charming. The kind of man people would imagine just had tons of sex. Plus he was incredibly attractive.

When Y/n was suddenly stood next to him at the bar, sweat at her hairline and soft lips with a cute smile as she spoke to him closely about how he was just sitting at the stool, not making the most of his first time in a bar with a fake ID, he felt his stomach twist. Maybe it was her scent, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, or the way she kept looking at him while she was dancing. Whatever it was, he knew he’d just moved into dangerous territory in his mind.

But she pulled at his hair and licked her lips and stood close so she could speak in his ear and he was easily convinced to finally get up and go dance with her.

Dancing wasn’t really a big deal to him. He wasn’t shy to dance. He honestly didn’t care all that much what people thought of him. He just didn’t want to get out there and dance while she was dancing like that. While she was looking at him in that way. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Something had slipped out of its normal position for Harry that night. He was thinking of his stepmom in very inappropriate ways and he was powerless to stop the indecent thoughts he had about her body and her lips and her voice. It was so wrong.

When he turned her around and put his hands on her hips he allowed his fingers to wander over her skin to the very spot he’d been watching each time she lifted her arms. But this time he pushed the material up to give the pads of his fingers access. And she didn’t stop him.

Her hair smelled good and when he spoke against her ear she got goosebumps. Fucking goosebumps from his voice in her ear.

But then the unthinkable happened and she pressed herself into his front. And luckily she was just off to the left a bit because had she been to the right another inch or so she’d have felt him. He was thick under his dark jeans and it was because of his stepmom.

Her skin and her lips and her hair and the way she smelled and reacted to him. But he had to stop. He backed away knowing that it was the smart move. Hating that it was the smart move.

He came down the shower drain imagining Y/n on her knees with his cock down her throat, gagging and urging him to go in deeper that night after the bar. He closed his eyes and yanked himself and he orgasmed so embarrassingly fast to the image of her. His stepmom. That was the first time he’d masturbated to Y/n’s image. And it felt dirty. It felt forbidden and disgusting.

But then he did it again the following evening in his bed. He was thankful for having his own room in the frat house. Stroking his cock as his thighs quivered and his head was thrown back into the pillow under him, imagining Y/n riding his cock and showing him what she liked had him gasping as he came all over himself.

He tried to move on and get things back to normal in his brain about her. The way they were before that night at the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Part of that was because of how she responded to him, flirted with him. The way she was looking at him and how she danced with him. He knew he didn’t imagine it. She was into it. And now that he knew that… well, the result left Harry tugging one out to his stepmom every night thereafter.

. . .

The party was going to be big. Leonardo told Harry to invite everyone he wanted. And of course, he and Y/n invited their friends too.

There was a DJ, a catering staff with bartenders and lots of presents.

Y/n was helping with the setup. Friday was busy for her, the day before the party. She’d almost forgotten about Harry mentioning he’d be coming on Friday to stay the whole weekend. Almost.

In fact, she hadn’t forgotten at all. She tried pushing that memory down but it was still there, underneath everything. Her nerves were wild as she helped direct some of the landscapers and people bringing gifts in from the guests. Tables and chairs, and a dance floor laid near the area where the DJ would be set up. Speakers were placed all over the estate so music could be heard no matter where anyone was.

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come that evening as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dance floor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscapers had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully, before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted creep. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked-open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short, a sharp inhaled breath into his lungs cutting off his words. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, causing him to look back down at her, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

She let go of his arm and she felt like she could faint. She grasped onto the door jamb and wobbled as she looked down at her feet to steady herself and then back up at Harry.

“Are you okay? Here, let’s sit.” Harry took her arm from the door jamb and slowly guided her to her sit down on his bed where he promptly shut his laptop and moved the forsaken thing away from them, hidden from view.

“I’m okay,” she put her hands up and blinked her eyes as she turned to look at Harry next to her on the bed. “I didn’t expect that is all. That it had anything to do with- I just…”

“But that night at the club. That was… well… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s inappropriate.”

Y/n bit her bottom lip and nodded before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess. Me too.”

“You too? What?”

She turned to look at his verdant crystal eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it is inappropriate. And I take all the blame. It was my fault that it even got as far as it did. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry shushed her and took her hand, “No. Don’t be sorry. This isn’t just on you. I’m an adult too, Y/n. This is on me just as much. So, I’m sorry. I feel like I probably pushed it that night. I was the one that touched you and made up that story about that guy.”

She recollected that night and the short conversation they had about the guy that was trying to dance with her when Harry had put his hand on her hip. The man was looking at her so she thought what he said was true. She hadn’t even questioned it, “You mean that man… that he wasn’t… you did…” she couldn’t finish her thought. It was. A lot. That revelation felt dense with just enough muscle to peel away some kind of layer of wool that had been placed securely over the situation in safety.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what got into me that night. I really didn’t mean for any of this- It’s… my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry.”

She felt like they were somewhat on even ground now. He’d done that. She wouldn’t absolve herself of blame. No, not at all. She was still the heavy in this situation. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel exonerated by his admission. She was seven years older and his stepmom. She was ultimately to blame.

“God, Harry. Please. I’m…” she paused. His gaze on hers was hard to break. His soft mint eyes made him appear so pure and blameless. But then his deep raspberry lips, darkly pigmented against his face were seductive. Harry was like a siren. An enchanter. He was beautiful.

“No. You’re… amazing and I’ve just gone too far. It’s okay. This is silly,” he laughed and disconnected their eye contact as he looked downward, “This is-“ he looked back up at her and felt his heart thrum hard in his ribs, “silly.” His last word, just a whisper. A word he didn’t believe.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “And you surely have other options anyway. It’s just a phase. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to pick from. The charmer you are,” she chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood and suggest it was temporary. That he could be with any young college girl he wanted. Probably had someone lined up for his birthday party even.

Harry’s brows cinched together and he shook his head, “No. I don’t. You don’t know this about me but… I’m actually…” he sighed and looked upward not wanting to see her expression when he told her, “virgin.”

That was not what she expected. Not at all. First of all, Harry Styles was beautiful. He was a sight! A paragon on legs with a gorgeously calming voice and the sweetest disposition anyone could ever dream of. He was perfection if there ever was such a thing. His beauty went before him but his grace and kindness were what made him so appealing. So utterly attractive. How was it that this astonishingly amazing man, absolutely as nice as anyone could ever be, was a virgin? Not to mention he had his dad’s money at the helm. There was nothing about Harry that wouldn’t get him laid in an instant.

“Virgin? Seriously?” She stuttered, “Umm… but not that there’s anything wrong with that…” She almost didn’t believe him as she asked. They’d never discussed this of course, but in her mind, it was quite impossible that he had never had sex.

“It’s true. Yeah. S’embarrassing but I really want it with… not just anyone. I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t done anything… but I’m not like I’m sleeping with whomever I can.”

Y/n nodded. She got it. As a female that was a conundrum she had as well.

Well, it was slightly different but the basics of why she didn’t just go and sleep with anyone was the same when she was his age. It was because she felt deeply about things. Wanted it to mean something. It didn’t always after she learned that others didn’t feel the same way she did. She learned that getting hurt was sometimes part of relationships. Part of sex. As sad as that was.

“Oh.” She smiled at him and spoke softly, “That’s how I used to feel too. Thought it should be special. But then when I thought it was going to be, the guy didn’t care so it turned out it was only special for me. I realized it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I can’t control what everyone around me wants.”

Harry felt his heart pinch at her words. That wasn’t fair. And that was exactly what had him so worried. That he would give it his all only to have the other person feel as if it was nothing important. Just a moment in time.

But it was a big moment in time. It should mean something. Both people should feel its presence and its significance.

They remained silent for a moment as Harry threaded his fingers in between Y/n’s and licked his lips, “Are we alone?”

She turned her head to look at the man. The whole scenario was unbelievable to her. They’d both admitted attraction and that they’d overstepped boundaries. They also both felt bad about it all. But what did that mean? Did that mean she should just stand up and tell him not to worry about it and not to bring it up ever again? Tell him she won’t say anything if he doesn’t say anything? Give him a hug and a pat on the back?

Yes. That is exactly what she should do.

Unhooking her fingers from his she leaned in and hugged him before standing up from his bed, “Your dad will be home late. So, it’s probably better if I go downstairs and do something to keep me busy. This,” she moved her fingers to point at him and then herself, “we can just chalk up to some bad timing and hormones or whatever. Don’t worry about it. I think it’ll be better for us to just pretend it never happened.”

Harry stood up abruptly, his height overtaking Y/n’s significantly with how close he stood, “Just like that? Just forget that we both said those things?”

She took a step back as she kept her eyes on his, “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s for the best? I mean, Harry… I’m your stepmom.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned as he put his hands on his hips and moved away from the bed. He walked toward his door and turned back, “You can forget it and pretend it never happened if you like. I won’t be, though. I’m not going to say anything but I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen either.”

Her heart dropped. She hoped he’d just brush it all off and try to move on. That was the best way to go about all of this. It’s not like they could have some kind of affair anyway. He was too young and his dad was her husband. It would be crazy to do such a thing.

“I mean… what did you want here? I feel like moving on is the best thing for both of us.”

Harry breathed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “I don’t know. Honestly. Thought…” he looked down at his shoes, “No one needed to know. No one would know.”

“No one needed to know what?”

Harry lifted his gaze up to Y/n’s, “If we… kissed or… anything. It would be easy. Dad’s never home. And you’re so-“ he blinked his eyes and she watched as he honed in on the spot where her breasts were under her t-shirt. She hadn’t put a bra on before slipping the shirt on in her haste to wish him a happy birthday, “Kind and patient. Feel like that would be really nice.”

She felt like her jaw was on the floor. Felt like that would be really nice. She couldn’t argue that. It would be really nice. A man with a warm heart in her bed. Someone she could show what she wanted without worry that he’d be offended. A man that looked like Harry. Young and with all that stamina. She imagined that he probably would want it a lot, especially now that she knew he was a virgin. That he’s been so neglected and that the moment he got a taste of it he’d never want to stop…

She shook her head before she allowed her mind to go too far into that hole, “We can’t, Harry. You understand that right,” she bit her lip. She wanted to grab him by his hips and smear her mouth over his as she pushed him into his bed and had them reenact the stepmom and stepson share a bed porno he had up on his laptop.

Harry nodded, his face set in an unreadable expression, “Of course, Y/n. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want. I’m sorry.”

She hated that he kept saying sorry. That he felt bad for any of this when it was on her as well, “Please, Harry. Stop saying you’re sorry. You’re not to blame. I just think we should keep level heads here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

His breathing deepened so much that Y/n could see the way his chest rose and fell under his shirt. She noted his gaze taking her in, not just her eyes, but her lips and her neck, her hips where the shirt stopped and her leggings showed under, “Oh… Y/n…” he shook his head, “I’ve definitely not been innocent. If my porn history isn’t enough to apologize for then my dirty thoughts surely are. You’d certainly agree that I should be apologizing if you knew the sorts of things I fantasize about with you.”

Y/n looked down. She couldn’t take his saturating gaze and these admissions any longer, “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It’s okay that it’s private and as long as it’s not acted on… you shouldn’t feel bad.”

“Of course.” Harry gestured toward the hallway as he looked at Y/n. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. Harry knew she was right.

She nodded as she exited his room and heard him close the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. All she wanted to do was to tell him happy birthday. But instead, she left confused and frustrated and far more guilty than she had been before. She had no idea how to navigate this. But she only knew that no one could know their secret.

. . .

The caterers arrived before everyone else to get things set up. Small little aluminum warmers lit to keep the food warm. The bar was set up with a washing station and glassware (none of that plastic stuff Leo had said). The sound equipment was tested. Everything was going to be amazing, Y/n thought. For Harry’s 21st birthday party, this was surely going to be a great time.

She hadn’t seen Harry after their encounter in his bedroom the day before. He’d been quiet the rest of the evening. He didn’t even come down to eat.

Leo arrived home just after midnight and today he was working a little, tying up loose ends for something Y/n didn’t bother to pay attention to. Her mind was elsewhere anyway. Her thoughts kept wandering to Harry. Was he okay? Certainly, he wouldn’t be too upset. They hadn’t even really done anything. And they shouldn’t! Plus he was so young and he would have plenty of time to find someone special. She couldn’t be that for him. Certainly not.

Just before she’d had the chance to run upstairs to her room to get her party outfit in order she caught a glimpse of Harry as he was leaving the kitchen. His dark curls were messy. He looked like he had just gotten up.

She laughed to herself. A typical 21-year-old. Sleeping half the day away so he could stay up late and party with his friends tonight. She felt like that was a good sign.

Her dress was modest and what she deemed appropriate. She had originally selected something different for the party, but after her talk with Harry the night before, she went a more conservative route. Perhaps he’d ignore her when he saw the other pretty girls his age that he knew at the party. She hoped there would be someone else that caught his eye. Someone that could make him forget all about whatever it was that happened between them.

She pulled her hair into a low bun, smoothing the bits that always tended to poke out from a sleek do. It was easy to keep her hair this way. And it was more mature too she felt. Rather than keeping her hair down in styled waves or curls, the low bun was a nod to her stage in life. The married woman with a stepson stage.

She decided to not wear perfume or lipstick either. She wanted to do anything she could to fade into the background for the party. She’d be running around anyway, at the beck and call of the people working the party should they need anything. She knew it was probably unnecessary as the people they’d hired were all professionals and some of the best in the industry. But she felt she would need to keep herself busy.

The first to arrive were Leo’s parents (Harry’s grandparents) and then Harry’s mom, Anne. Anne had been around a lot for the last few days helping Y/n get everything sorted. Y/n was actually quite fond of Anne. Harry’s mother was a saint. She loved that her relationship with Leo’s ex was so good.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Anne smiled as she backed away from the hug Y/n had given her.

“Oh! I think he might still be getting ready. I believe he slept in late. Saw the back of his head about an hour ago and he appeared to be half asleep,” Y/n laughed.

As more of the guests arrived, Y/n noted the young women and men Harry had invited. Plenty of attractive and exciting college kids.

The music was started and drinks were being served but she still had not seen Harry. Nor Leo for that matter (though she wasn’t surprised to have not seen Leo – probably absorbed in his work).

Going inside and tiptoeing her way up toward Harry’s bedroom to urge him to come out and join his own party she found that his door was closed. She applied two knocks to the wood as she put her ear in close to hear anything.

When it was silent and the door didn’t open, she knocked again. Harder, “Harry? You in there? Party’s getting started without you!”

Suddenly the door was pulled open and before her was her stepson looking like he was ready to kill. Not kill in the way that was violent, but kill with his looks. Kill with the way he’d dressed and left half his buttons undone at the top, a sheer milky white shirt with cream embroidered flowers draping away from his chest and allowing peeks of his tattoos. Black, well-fitted jeans and black Chelsea boots. His signature cross necklace hung between his pecs.

“Wanted to be fashionably late. You know… birthday boy and all,” he raised his brows unamused at Y/n and she felt the condescension drip from his words, “After you… step mummy,” he gestured for her to lead the way.

She was stunned by his tiny attitude. It wasn’t much. He hadn’t been particularly rude but his tone and his cheek were new. He was normally very polite with her. Very sweet and all smiles.

She nodded as she began to head down the stairs, Harry behind her. The moment they walked out to the garden Harry headed in a direction away from her. Without a word. But that was good. He should go and have fun with his friends.

Y/n had invited Marla to the party, which she was thankful for. Marla kept her mind off the tall young man of the hour.

“I can never get over how fantastic this place is. And look at all this,” Marla waved her wine glass above her head as she gestured toward the decorations, “This looks magical! When I fall in love and get married, can I have my wedding here?”

“You have to find the right man first. Ryan’s not it.” They laughed together.

Y/n wasn’t nearly as busy as she thought she’d be. As she hoped she’d be. She drank a few glasses of wine and checked on the guests but Anne had most things under control as did the staff that were taking care of everything.

She kept wishing she had more to do because her eyes kept searching for Harry. She spotted him over and over again. He was drinking whisky, with his friends laughing, and of course, there was one girl he was talking to.

She scolded herself at the touch of jealousy she felt. The girl was Harry’s age. Lovely young thing. But when she saw just the two of them talking as Harry had a hand flat on the bench behind the girl she hated how close they were standing. How flirty he looked. She especially didn’t like that the girl would reach out for his buttons and pluck at them every so often.

But why should she be jealous? He was a 21-year-old guy and he was her stepson. It was quite silly to feel anything other than happiness for him.

The cherry on top was after Leo gave his speech and everyone toasted and then the DJ began to play house music. The dance floor was packed and Y/n watched on as Harry and the young girl danced together, much in the same way he’d danced with her two weeks prior. His lanky body moved behind hers, his hand at her hip, his face close to her ear as he said god-knows-what to her.

She wanted to go out and dance too. There was no reason for her to not dance. Just because Harry was out there, enjoying his time, she didn’t need to wallow at the edge and watch the fun.

“Let’s dance!” Y/n pulled Marla with her to the dance floor.

It was just like their normal Friday night outings and since the night before they didn’t get to go out because Y/n had been busy with the party setup, tonight would be girl’s night for her and Marla.

The two laughed and moved their bodies to the beat, holding their wine glasses as level as they could so it didn’t slosh out.

She was finally having fun. Finally felt the anxiety and the guilt melt away as she danced and drank a little more wine. She had been silly to be jealous or upset. There was no reason for any of that.

But then she saw his eyes on hers. He hadn’t been looking at her all night. She figured that was for the best. But now he was watching her as he danced with the girl in the white mini-dress. His gaze was cold. His face set in a glowering smirk as he spoke something to the girl. She watched as the young woman leaned her head back to look up at Harry and his lips nipped at the space just below her ear.

She felt she could vomit. It was too much. She thought she was okay but she didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to watch as Harry kissed anyone else and looked at her with such disdain. Was he mad at her?

She excused herself to Marla and rushed into the big house, moving into the kitchen to set her glass down. There were people in the house. Chatting, laughing, and some even dancing inside.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned over the island and tried to calm her brain. What was she doing? What was wrong with her?

Warm hands covered the tops of her shoulders and the deep rasp of her stepson was in her ear before she could even open her eyes, “I need to talk to you.”

She jumped in surprise and turned around quickly as Harry ticked his head toward the stairs and he began heading toward them. She followed behind, moving up the steps with him and she assumed he would want to talk in the hallway or his room but he continued walking past his door and to the other side of the house toward her bedroom.

Without even a pause he opened her door and entered her room as if he owned it. As if it were his room.

She followed in behind him, her face set in confusion. She couldn’t know what he was going to say or what he wanted to talk about.

“Was offered a blowjob,” he blurted out as he paced. “From Leslie. She’s cute and I’m… anyway… I wanted to tell you,” he stopped and looked at Y/n, moving toward her, “in case you wanted to… maybe you’d changed your mind or-“ he ran a hand through his hair.

“What?” She was stunned, “You… why are you telling me?”

“Because I want… you, Y/n.” He said with finality.

Harry was stood close with his pink lips parted as he looked down at Y/n. He was serious. He was dead serious and she was surprised. The young girl was pretty and she wanted to give him a blowjob… “Me? What about… Leslie? She’s so cute and-“

“Not as cute as you. Ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He cocked his head and smirked, “And I like this look,” Harry moved his hand to the material of her dress gently before letting his hand drop down to his side, “Perfect length so no one gets any ideas about you. A modest silhouette. Your hair falling out of this bun you tried to hold it in,” his hand moved upward again to push the hair off her shoulder that had indeed come undone from the bun.

“You must have had too much to drink. I’m not what you’re looking for-“

“You are. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. And I’m not drunk, Y/n. Not even close.”

Her breaths deepened as Harry’s hand stayed at her neck where he’d pushed her hair. His thumb rubbed over her pulse point slowly. And he was suffocating, crippling her resolve. Making her question her sanity. She couldn’t allow this. Could she?

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t. We… we can’t.”

Harry licked his lips, “We can actually because no one would know. Want it to be you. Want you to show me. I trust you.” He didn’t lose his composure as his palm moved upward and his thumb brushed the outer corner of her mouth.

She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to part the slightest. She didn’t know what she was doing. Letting him stand so close. Letting him speak to her about this. Letting him touch her lips. Letting his words sink into her core.

“Harry…” she breathed out his name as she felt the pad of his thumb press over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed. This wasn’t happening. If she kept her eyes closed she wasn’t here and this wasn’t happening. It was just a fantasy.

The trouble was though, that it was happening. And even with her eyes closed she could feel him and how he was standing so close she could smell the whisky on his breath and feel his body heat next to hers. Feel his thumb push past her lips the slightest as her tongue poked out to taste the tiniest bit. Felt his hand grip her face and his smooth mouth on hers and his hand on her waist and his chest pressed to hers.

She forced her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth but then- in a sudden moment of clarity, she pushed at his chest and shook her head, “This is wrong. We can’t, Harry. You get that, right?”

Harry backed away and looked down at his feet, “I do. You don’t want me.”

She nearly blurted out to him that that was incorrect. That she did want him. That she’d fantasized about him far too often but it was unhealthy and it could only lead to disaster.

Instead, she stayed quiet. He needed to drop this. She needed to stop this. It had gone too far.

When he left her room she sat down on her bed. Now she’d gone and kissed him. Tasted his lips and the way he kissed her felt so real and so passionate. She’d missed that bit of passion. That sort of enthusiasm. It wasn’t something Leo gave her at all. She didn’t even know it was something she was missing. But Harry had woken something up in her. Ever since that night. And now the kiss had felt like she was beyond getting back to ignoring that need she’d buttoned up and pushed down. She wanted more. But that couldn’t happen.

She was surprised by Harry’s gall too. He was quite pushy, which she hadn’t expected of him. Harry, who was so gentle and thoughtful and sweet was really adamant about pursuing her.

Her tummy was still warm and filled with butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she wanted to take it further but she couldn’t. That was out of the question.

. . .

When most of the guests had gone and the house grew quiet Y/n sat outside under the twinkle lights. She’d turn them off before going in and calling it a night but she wanted a few moments of peace with the last bit of the bottle of wine she’d worked her way through after Harry had gone and scrambled her good sense.

Good sense. What a laugh. As if she had any good sense after that night at the bar. It should have never gotten as far as it had.

Y/n was also sitting outside in hopes of making sure Leslie left before she went back in. Or at least gave Harry enough time to get his blowjob or whatever it was that was going on in his bedroom.

Because Y/n was well aware that Harry had her in there. He made a show of it in fact.

When she’d gotten back outside after calming herself from the kiss, Harry had Leslie against the side of the house with his tongue down her throat. And as much as she tried to ignore that and pretend she wasn’t bothered by it, she was bothered. It hurt her feelings but she shouldn’t feel hurt. Harry should be doing things with girls his age and losing his virginity to anyone that wasn’t his stepmom.

But she kept looking over at them and when she caught Harry gazing back at her as he kissed Leslie she could almost feel her hair singe in anger. He was doing it on purpose. To make Y/n jealous.

And before he brought her into the house he casually introduced Leslie to her and then leaned in to whisper to Y/n with his whisky breath, “Last chance.”

So, not only was she a little hurt she was a little pissed. Because he was being downright bratty with it.

Half of her hoped that Leslie would take his virginity and he’d get it out of his system and that would be that.

The other part of her, the depraved, nonsensical evil bit that she kept pushed deep deep down away from anyone, wanted to make him pay for being a little jerk to her. She imagined spanking him even, which was ridiculous because he was so much larger than she was. As if he’d somehow fit over her lap and bare his ass to her for a spanking. She laughed at her thoughts but they didn’t end there.

The more wine that wound its way into her bloodstream the filthier her fantasies got. He’d grow hard after she punished him and then she’d show him what a real blowjob was like. Make him forget all about Leslie. She’d let him feel her throat on him but wouldn’t allow him to come. Instead, then she’d pull him down by his hair between her legs and guide him over her, giving him specific instructions for cunnilingus. And he’d keep licking at her and begging for more of her even after she’d come. He wouldn’t want to stop tasting her but then she’d tell him to stop – that only good boys deserve more.

Of course, the fantasy ends with him begging her to take his virginity and then making him eat his come from her pussy since he came too fast, like the virgin he is.

Depraved. But god was she turned on just thinking about it. She bet he’d like all that too.

Plucking her bottle of wine up she flicked the lights off and went into the house. No sense in staying outside and hoping Harry was quiet enough when she went inside. Plus she was quite tipsy and just needed to be put to bed.

Putting the bottle down on the counter she heard Leo sitting in the living room on a call.

It was nearly 2 am so she was surprised he was chatting with anyone but she could tell it was something for work. Plans for a business trip.

Instead of waiting and talking to him, she made her way up to her bedroom. She slowly passed Harry’s room and noticed that there was a light on but no noises to be heard, thankfully.

And she wasn’t jealous. Of course, she wasn’t. What was there to be jealous of?

After a warm shower and slathering her body in lotion, she opened her ensuite bathroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.

“What are you doing in here?”

Harry was lying on her bed, sprawled out on top of her comforter wearing the clothes he wore at his party minus his boots.

Harry lifted his head and snorted a laugh, “Wanted to say g’night to my stepmom. But then I laid on your bed,” Y/n could hear the slur in his speech and saw the way his eyes floated in his sockets as he looked at her, “and it’s so comfortable.” He pressed his palms down and moaned at the feel before plopping his head back onto her stack of feather pillows.

She stood over him and placed her hands at her hips. She was thankful she’d put on her robe before stepping out of her room. Half the time she opted to walk around her bedroom naked.

“Well, goodnight, then Harry. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and the grin on his mouth widened as he spoke, “Mmm… but this feels so good. S’cozy right here.”

Y/n sat at the end of the bed and sighed. He was clearly drunk. Earlier he hadn’t been when she kissed him. Now, he was very clearly inebriated.

“Your bed is cozy too, though. You should go back to your room. Get some rest.”

Harry propped himself up by his elbows and planted his eyes on hers, “You’ve been in my bed? When?”

Shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of this whole scenario she spoke, “I know your bed is comfortable because I helped Leo pick out your new mattress. It’s the same one as this.” She patted the bed under her.

Harry nodded slowly and she noticed his gaze at her cleavage so she tightened her robe just as there was a knock at her door.

A gasp fell from her lips and she shoved Harry off the bed, whispering, “Under the bed! It’s your father!”

Harry huffed a laugh and put his hands up in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.”

She hushed him as he scooted himself under her bed and Y/n ran to her bathroom door, “Yes!”

The door opened and Leo stepped in, a suitcase left in the doorway, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got a sudden meeting tomorrow late morning so I’ve got to take the 5:00 am out to Savannah.”

Putting the towel up to her hair to act as if she’d just gotten out of the shower (she sort of had) she walked across the room to him, “Really? When will you be back?”

“Day after tomorrow. It’s a morning meeting, then golf, then dinner. Then the next morning I have a flight that gets me back in LA at noon.”

She smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders to bring him in for a quick hug and he caught her off guard by kissing her cheek and squeezing her back before pulling away, “Car’s outside waiting,” he ticked his head toward the door, “Tell Harry when he emerges tomorrow for me, will ya?”

When she shut her door and turned toward her bed she let out a breath of relief. She was glad Harry stayed quiet. But then she realized as she lifted her bed skirt that he’d fallen asleep down there.

Rolling her eyes she contemplated what to do. Leave him there? Wake him and help him back to his room? She really didn’t want to deal with getting him into his bedroom. Nor did she want to deal with a drunk Harry by waking him up. But ultimately her guilt wouldn’t let her leave him there on the floor. He deserved to sleep in a bed.

“Harry… come on… wake up. Leo’s gone,” she pushed at his arm gently, “Harry…” she said tunefully, elongating the yyyyyy at the end of his name.

Pulling at his arm she got him part of the way out from under her bed and lifted his arm up, “Come on… wake up,” she lightly patted his face and that seemed to do it.

Harry’s eyes opened up and landed on hers. Sparkling and green and soft. And drunk.

“Let’s get you up. Come on. Time for bed.” She helped him sit up and tucked herself under his arm and began to stand to help him upward. But he was dead weight.

“Can I please stay with you? Please, Y/n? Your bed is so soft.”

She looked at him as he spoke and she realized he was not going to make it to his room. He’d have to sleep on her bed.

But that was fine. She’d just put him in her bed and then go sleep in any of the other guest rooms. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor or attempting to walk him to his bedroom.

“You can sleep in my bed. That’s fine. Can you lift up with me?”

Harry’s smile took over his features and his pink lips looked wet and soft. He was super cute when he was drunk.

“For real?” Harry raised an arm and steadied himself with the edge of the bed, the other side assisted by Y/n as he was pushed upward to his feet.

“There we go. Okay…” Y/n nudged him to sit and Harry’s full weight fell onto the bed and he laughed.

He immediately went to grab at his pant button and Y/n paused and put her hand on his shoulder, “Uh, just lie down. I’ll go and get you some water. Be right back.”

She was doing her best. Truly. She was quite tipsy herself and her bed had been calling before Harry showed up in her room. And now here she was traipsing across the massive home to get her stepson a glass of water. She figured he’d appreciate that when he woke up in the morning. And she had hoped that by the time she returned to her room, he’d be asleep and she could sneak out and go to the nearest guest bedroom and crash there. She was tired.

But when she returned to her room, Harry had successfully pulled his pants and sheer button-up shirt off and was left in nothing but his grey boxer briefs. And he was not asleep.

Placing the water next to the side of the bed he was on, which was where she’d normally be sleeping she noted, Harry stretched his arms behind his head and smiled, “Hop in.”

She shook her head and laughed as she pulled her charger from the wall and grabbed her cell phone, “No, Harry. That’s not a good idea,” she turned off the lamp on the far side of the room and began to walk toward the door.

He sat up quickly, “Wait. You said… You’re not staying with me?”

Y/n turned to look at him, handsome and messy.

And her stepson she reminded herself.

“I’ll just be next door. Think it’s best we’re not sleeping in the same bed, Harry. Just lie down and-“

“No. Please,” Harry tried to pull himself out of the bed but his motions were lethargic and clumsy, “want you here. Just… stay with me. Please. I swear no funny business.”

She sighed and began to shake her head and repeat herself but when Harry started to place his long legs down onto the floor she rushed back to him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was her logic anyway. She didn’t want him to fall or crack his skull open.

Steadying him by his arms she pushed him back toward the bed, “Stay. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Harry hummed and reached up to put his fingers in her hair, “I’ll stay if you stay. If you go to the guest room I’ll just follow you like a puppy dog, Y/n.” His words were watery and his gestures were clumsy.

She closed her eyes and groaned. She was so tired. So tired. And she just wanted to lie down. And she certainly couldn’t have Harry attempting to follow her to another room and hurt himself by falling down the stairs or something.

“Fine. But you just go to sleep. I’ll stay here with you but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep and behave.” She pointed at him.

Harry’s exaggerated grin returned as he laid his head back onto the pillow and watched her cross the room to turn off the last lamp.

Fuck, she cursed to herself under her breath. She’d forgotten to put on pajamas. She was naked under her robe.

But okay. No problem. She’d just leave her robe on and it would be fine.

Climbing into bed, on the odd side, she stretched her limbs as she laid flat and closed her eyes. She was just so tired.

“Thank you. For staying. I promise I’ll behave.”

. . .

Y/n’s alarm woke her up and she groaned and reached over to turn it off but instead, her palm found a bare, solid chest. She popped her eyes open and the events of the previous night had come rushing back. She let Harry sleep in her bed and she was reaching over toward where her phone normally was but she’d been on the opposite side of the bed.

Rolling over to press the alarm off she sighed as she snuggled back into her pillow. 6:45 am was too early to be up for a Sunday. She contemplated moving herself to a guest room since Harry was still asleep but her soft bed lulled her back into a deep sleep where her dreams were vivid and she found herself kissing Harry again. But this time, her dream took it further and she was on his lap and then they were in his bed. By any standards, it was a very good dream. A very good one.

So when she woke up for the second time that morning things were… different. Her head was not on her soft pillow and there was a hand on her bottom. She slowly came out of her easy dream state, still reeling from the kind of dream she’d just had of her stepson when she realized her cheek was smushed on Harry’s pec and it was Harry’s big palm on her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly moving down toward her thigh. He was awake.

Her dream-riddled brain mulled over what was happening. It was a slow rise but her awareness steadily stirred. Her robe had come undone and her thigh was over Harry’s. His chest was rising and falling gently and she realized her palm was over his heart, which she could feel thudding underneath. She had cuddled up to him like he was one of those body pillows.

It was nice. It felt soft and lazy and sweet to lie in her bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of a man. And the leftover remnants of her dream had her still feeling wound up.

Hesitantly, she moved her head to look upward and Harry’s hand halted when her gaze met his.

She could see him swallow and he spoke groggily, “Sorry. You were… I didn’t want to wake you.”

The way his sonorous voice reverberated from his chest against her skin and her shoulder made her meltier than she already was.

Her hand was still over his chest and she could feel his heart rate increase as he kept his eyes on hers, “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me sleep.” She was going to move. To get up and pull her robe securely around her body so he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to bask in the heat of him for a little longer. To feel his fingers on her bare bottom for a few more moments. Perhaps to even feel him caressing her again. And maybe… just maybe…

She slid her palm up and scooted herself fully into his arms, her chest over his, and laid her head down against his shoulder, “Let’s just stay here a little longer. If that’s okay?”

Harry blinked his eyes and knew Y/n could feel the way his heart was lobbing around behind his ribs. His cock was already hard but she hadn’t figured that out yet and he didn’t want to scare her off because he did want to stay like that for longer. With her.

He pulled his arms around her, removing his hand from her bottom and bringing it up to wrap around her back, “That sounds perfect.” He was just glad she hadn’t moved too far up or her thigh would have come into contact with his erection and surely would have ruined the moment.

Y/n closed her eyes and indulged in the way his arms felt around her. Her bare hip was against his and it felt so salacious. So tender. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, with one of them uncovered and warm against his skin.

“Dad left for a meeting? On a Sunday?” Harry suddenly inquired. He had always been suspicious of his father’s frequent trips.

She nodded her head over his chest, “Yeah. Sometimes he has weekend meetings. It’s more like a golf outing than anything. Probably just some buddies getting together for some fun.”

“Hmm… You’re okay with him just heading out like that last minute?”

“Yeah. It’s normal. I’ve gotten used to it.”

He wasn’t sure that his father was a good husband to Y/n. He found it odd too that they had separate bedrooms. But he didn’t usually question it. However, this morning he was feeling soft toward her (well, soft emotionally… physically he was anything but soft) and wanted to protect her in some way.

Harry didn’t know how he was going to survive. His boner was only growing thicker and with the way she was wiggling over him, her thigh was nearly brushing against his –

Too late.

When she nudged at it, feeling him stiff against her thigh, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t looked down over his body but she half wondered if he was as turned on as she was. It was easier for her to hide what her dream had done to her and what being in his arms was causing to slip out from between her legs, but this pleased her.

“I’m sorry. That’s… I can’t help it.” Harry explained and Y/n lifted her head up and glanced down at where he was straining under his boxer briefs. It nearly startled her too. She hadn’t expected… that. And even though he was covered up with his underwear she understood that what he had going on there was… well she’d say he was a lucky guy and it was truly an outrage that there hadn’t been a lucky girl to try it out.

“Don’t apologize,” she looked back up at him and realized he’d been looking at her boob. The one not covered. And with the way she’d lifted herself upward to look down at him, her nipple was out for him to peek at.

She licked her lips and brought her hand down over his pec to lift herself further. Bot tits made their appearance and Harry groaned and looked away, “Sorry. Trying not to look.”

Gently putting her hand up to his jaw she turned his face to look at her, “Do you want to look?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Well, yeah. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“You’ve seen breasts before right?” Y/n laughed and slid her thigh against his thickened cock, this time on purpose.

Harry kept nodding, “Yes. Quite a few. But just not yours.” His eyes danced over her nipples and back up to her eyes, almost to make sure it was okay.

She loved his deep, raspy morning voice. Loved how gentle and intimate the moment felt.

“Did you see Leslie’s breasts last night?” Y/n teased with a smile as she lowered herself down, her naked nipples pressing into his warm skin.

Shaking his head no he laughed, “Nah. She passed out. If you thought I was drunk last night, should have seen her. Nothing happened. Wouldn’t have been able to even if we wanted.”

When Y/n felt Harry’s hand timidly return to her low back and then ghost over her ass she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t remove her eyes from his. He was so pretty and he deserved to be put out of his misery she thought. A bad idea, yes. But to hell with it.

Sliding her thigh further over him she pushed herself to straddle him and sat up over him. Biting her lip and looking down at his chest and smoothing her hands over the smattering of hair he had and the dark tattoos… he was sexy.

Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from taking her in. Her robe was draped over her sides but was open so he could see her breasts and her tummy, her belly button and he glanced back up at her and parted his lips as he risked moving his hands over her bottom. With the way she was looking at him and touching him, he felt the risk would be worth it.

“Squeeze a little,” she whispered as she put her hands over Harry’s and directed him to take a handful of her bottom in each palm. Harry swallowed hard and panted.

“Oh my god,” his words were spoken in a quiet breath as he relished in the feeling.

When she rocked her hips forward and dragged her core over his fabric-covered cock Harry gasped and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.

“I had a dream about you,” she spoke as she moved her hands back up his chest and to his face as she leaned over him, putting herself directly over his erection and ground herself over him, “It was really naughty. And I’m still worked up over it. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” her pussy was wetting the fabric of Harry’s crotch and he groaned before lifting his face upward and pressing his lips to hers. He definitely did not want her to stop.

The haste of the kiss was hectic and chaotic. Harry pushed the robe off her shoulders and she flung the thick cotton down onto the floor before placing her fingers into the band of his underwear, “Let’s take a look.”

She sat back and pulled his underwear down so his cock sprung out. She continued lowering the material until his balls were free and she moaned, “It’s really pretty. Can I suck you off?”

Harry brought a hand up to his arm and pinched his skin, wincing when he felt the sting. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. Not only was Y/n completely naked on top of him, she was licking her lips and asking if she could suck him off.

“Fuck. Please yes.”

“Do you like to beg, Harry?” She grinned as she crawled herself backward to put her face above his lovely cock.

“For you, I will.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she looked up at him as she licked along the underside of his shaft and Harry choked out a moan. His thighs were already quivering. She figured he wouldn’t last long but that was fine for what she had in mind.

Her mouth was watering so wetting him properly wasn’t too hard as her tongue slid over his hard prick. She dotted kisses along the way and looked up at his eyes and then down to his pretty dick.

Using her hand, a palm she licked and wetted, she gently massaged his balls as she finally pulled his tip into her mouth. She lowered over him as much as possible on the first go before bringing herself off of him, “Want you to come down my throat. Okay? Want to taste you.”

Harry’s face was twisted up in ecstasy already and she hadn’t done that much, “I’m gonna come too fast.” He whined.

Shaking her head and licking over his tip she whispered against his throbbing cock, “Be a good boy and come down my throat, Harry. It’s okay if you come fast. Just feel my mouth and my tongue on you and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”

“Ffuck…” Harry threw his head back into the pillow as she drew him back into her mouth and began sucking, “M’gonna be your good boy. Yes.”

Harry’s voice was shaky and his groans were progressively louder as she took him deeper. He clutched the blankets tight as his stepmom fondled his balls and sucked on his cock.

He’d been given blow jobs before. But already this one was far and away the best he’d ever had. Y/n was sensual and confident and she knew what she was doing. When her eyes found his every few moments that was his favorite. Watching as she looked at him dreamily with his cock in her mouth was a picture that would be seared into his mind for all eternity. Better than porn. Because it was real.

“Ahh! Shit! M’coming, please!” Harry shouted and moaned as his hands finally found their place in her hair out of instinct.

He’d pressed on her just enough that her nose was pushed into his pubes and she felt his twitching prick beating and pumping as come gushed from his tip. He came a lot. She couldn’t breathe or move but she kept her jaw wide and gagged around him as he crammed himself further into her throat and he cursed and moaned and rolled his hips upward in orgasm.

When he’d finally drained himself of everything he had he loosened his grip on her hair and she pulled up, gasping and coughing.

Harry’s fucked out gaze was adorable, she thought. A small smile on his face with pink cheeks and a splotchy red chest from the exertion of his orgasm.

She leaned over him and grasped his jaw, causing his mouth to fall open as she spit down over his tongue, “Swallow.”

Harry gulped down her mix of saliva and his come before his pink lips curved up into a big smile, “Yes ma’am.”

Y/n chuckled and then kissed him before pushing herself upward to climb off but Harry caught her arm before she could get too far, “Wait. You don’t want me to like…”

“Of course I do. But only if you want to. Have you ever eaten anyone out before?”

Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and nodded, “Yeah. Wouldn’t say I’m any good at it. Not sure I could make you come.”

There was a thrill that filed down her spine and to her toes. She didn’t need to come. She just loved how it felt to have someone with their face between her legs. It had been a while. Leo didn’t often give her cunnilingus.

“But do you want to?” She asked pointedly. She wouldn’t dream of having him do something he didn’t like.

“Fuck yes. Just show me what you like and I’ll do it.”

Harry released her wrist and she put her bottom onto the mattress and stuffed pillows behind her so she could sit up and watch. She loved the way Harry was watching her body and how dark his eyes were. He’d just orgasmed but she was confident he’d grow hard again soon. And then perhaps she could give him what he really wanted.

“Take your underwear off the rest of the way.”

Harry got up to his knees and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” A sly smirk on his lips at the new nickname he’d been using for her.

Y/n had never been a fan of being called ma’am. She felt she was too young to be a ma’am but when Harry did it in this context, it got her blood pumping wildly through her veins.

When Harry’s boxer briefs were long gone she pulled at his wrist as she opened her legs up, “Start off just exploring. I’ll guide you if you want. Use your fingers, lips, tongue… and try to keep your eyes on mine.”

Harry licked his lips and knelt over her, his hands finding her outer thighs first and spreading her wider as he looked over her glistening pussy, “So wet. Is this for me?”

His question was a surprise to her. But it was definitely lined with something innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t expected her to be in the state she was in.

Nodding her head slowly and smiling she spoke, “All for you. That’s what you did to me and you haven’t even touched me yet.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he shyly smiled, “Just trying to be a good boy for you ma’am.”

He jutted his tongue out and licked upward from her seeping entrance to her clit and she moaned softly as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her pussy at first. She wanted him to look up at her but she allowed him a moment to get acquainted.

He used one of his hands to gently spread her labia and lick upward again, stopping at her clit and flicking it just the tiniest bit.

“God. You know where the clit is, don’t you? That’s really good, Harry.”

He finally looked back up at her as he mouthed over her pussy and sucked gently. She keened and smiled, “Yes! Keep doing that.”

So he did. He sucked and licked, giving special treatment to her clitoris and he moaned over her as he closed his eyes and lapped at her, and kissed his way around her cunt slowly.

“Finger me. Put two in. Like this,” she reached down to his hand and twisted so his palm was upward and then pulled on his pointer and middle finger, nudging the pads of his fingers to her entrance.

His long digits inside of her didn’t disappoint. He pressed them in and pulled out slowly as he continued lapping and sucking and she gasped into the room.

She looked down at him after the initial recovery of his fingers inside of her for the first time and he was already watching her. She slid a hand over her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before pushing her fingers into his hair, “You’re so good for me, Harry. Just like that…” she was breathless.

Harry clamped his eyes closed at her praise and used his free hand to reach up and touch her left tit. He kneaded at her flesh and then circled the pads of his fingers over her nipple slowly and she mewled, “Come up here. Suck on my breasts,” she pulled at his hair a little to lift his face, “Keep your fingers inside of me.”

Harry did as she said, pumping his fingers into her as he moved up over her body and latched on to the breast he’d been fondling. He was a star pupil. His tongue laved sensually over her areola and he continued looking at her as he stuffed his fingers knuckles deep.

Sucking on her nipple and pulling away he moved to the other side and a muffled moan vibrated over her chest and she felt his cock against her thigh. He was aroused. Thick and full once again. She knew this would happen. Or at least she hoped it would.

Harry drew his tongue to the underside of her breast and sucked in tightly, pinching her skin and she gasped as she watched him work. He moved to her other side, repeating his gesture and bruising the underside of her boob with an intense suckle that had her flesh turning purple nearly instantly.

“Fuck, Harry.”

She had little need to guide him much. He was passionate enough and horny enough that everything he was doing was just right by her standards.

Harry popped off her nipple and looked up at his stepmom with eyes that brimmed with lust and need, “I want you so bad. Please…” his dark pink lips were wet and set in a pout as he pulled his brows together. He looked like he was in pain. But he didn’t cease fucking into her with his fingers.

Y/n carded her fingers into his hair and cooed at him, “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

She was aware of what he wanted. But somehow she was getting off on having him tell her and ask and beg with his big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

Harry’s hips dipped down so his prick sat in the spot right next to her pussy. She was wet all over and there was a nice little bit of glid for Harry right there as he removed his fingers from her cunt and pushed them into his mouth. He was holding himself over her with one arm as he licked her essence from his digits before pulling them out to steady himself with both arms, “You. Want to… be with you. I’m so hard again.”

She knew what he wanted. And maybe it was the haze of the dream she’d had or a sudden lack of inhibition on her part, but she wanted the same thing. And his pretty cock would feel nice wrenching into her insides and poking deeply into the viscera.

Y/n nudged at him to move back so she could sit up further, “Are you sure? Because that means you won’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to have you regret anything.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t care about being a virgin. The stigma. Never mattered. But,” he put his palm over the top of her thigh and looked at her with hooded eyes, “I know you’ll show me how good it is. I trust you. Only if you want me.”

The sting of warmth shrouded her neck and then her heart. He was sweet and he was convincing.

Nodding her head she put her palm over his cheek and smiled, “I do want you. And I trust you too. Which means this has to stay between us. No one can know.”

Harry nodded. The tiny bit of scruff on his face scratched at her skin as he turned to kiss her palm and grasp her wrist in his hand, “Then, please. Just tell me what to do and how you want it. I’ll be so good for you.”

Intertwining their fingers, Y/n pulled at him to give him a soft kiss. Wet. Trembling. They both were. This was either the biggest mistake of their lives or the beginning of an extraordinary secret. They both knew it. It would change everything. It already had. They’d already given in.

Whispering as she scraped his scalp and dotted kisses at the edge of his mouth, “Do you want a condom? Will that make you feel better? I can’t get pregnant so that’s not an issue and everything else is good in that regard. Up to you.”

Y/n always wore condoms with Leo, at his insistence. Because of their agreement. An open marriage if you will. But with Harry, she’d forego the barrier knowing he was a virgin.

“Do you want me to wear one? I do have some that I’ve never used,” he laughed as he spoke the word used.

“I’d like to feel you just like this,” she lowered her hand to his throbbing shaft and inhaled sharply at how warm and thick he was in her hand, “If that’s okay.”

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, “More than okay.”

“Good. Now. When you fantasize about having sex. What position are you in the most?” Y/n wanted to have him start off with what he fantasized about. She knew he’d like any position, most men did.

The edge of Harry’s mouth quirked up as he breathed out a laugh, “Just… all of them. But, normally I’m on top,” he swallowed.

“That’s good. Let’s start there.” She lay back and spread her legs, gently pulling at him to follow.

Harry put himself between her thighs and brought his palms down to the mattress on either side of her shoulders.

“Push your hips down and line up over me,” She took her hand and guided him so that his heavy cock was slipping through her labia, getting coated in her slick, “Yes, now, move back and forth and just feel how wet I am like this. How it’s getting all over you before you even need to push inside. Feels good right?” Harry’s mouth was dropped open and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Mmm… feels good to me too. When you do that, your tip is hitting my clit. See?” She looked down between their bodies, urging Harry to do the same.

He groaned as he continued gliding through her wet pussy lips, “Fuck. So pretty.”

The sound alone was sexy. Her pussy was really wet and the noise that his dick caused with each pass through her folds was pornographic.

“We’re pretty together, aren’t we?��

He nodded and moaned, moving himself a little faster.

“Such a good boy. Now, I want you to kiss me. Keep your mouth on mine and then when you’re ready, put your delicious cock inside of me. Okay?”

Another moan fell from his lips as he lowered himself to kiss her mouth. Y/n licked over his lips and Harry opened up and used his tongue against hers as he slowly pushed his engorged dick up and down, nudging her clit on each upward thrust. His mouth was watering as he got himself into position, putting his knees down to steady himself and rearing back to align his pink tip with her puffy, wet entrance.

Never removing his lips from hers as he continued kissing her and sipping at her tongue he dipped gently into her. First, his wide head barely smoothed into her until he was met with resistance from the small muscle of her vaginal opening.

She could feel him hesitate, knowing he wasn’t sure if it was too much. She smiled into the kiss and spoke, “Just push. It’s like that on purpose. A little tight on the first go but once you’re in there it’s so good. You’re just a little thick so this is gonna be normal for you. Gotta just press in past my tight opening.”

The whimper that fell from his mouth before he pushed his lips back to hers made her head spin. But what really got her was when he did as she said and pushed in through her muscle and slid himself in half way.

They both gasped, parting from the kiss. There it was. He was inside of her. He moaned into her mouth as he pulled back so his tip was pulled out and then reentered, pushing past that tight muscle again as he licked into her mouth.

It was good. She knew it would feel good. His hard cock was heavy and thick and as he pressed himself in until he couldn’t push any further she gasped at how deep he was.

Harry was on a different plane of existence in that moment. He’d given his virginity to the hottest woman he’d ever met and now he was allowed to fuck her. She’d given him permission and he’d given her permission and his dick had never ever felt so good.

He’d had his cock sucked and he’d used toys with lube that mimicked pussy, but this was… warm and real. And it smelled like her and his mouth still tasted like her and she was moaning as he moved into her. She was enjoying it too. And that… that was the best part.

He continued moving his mouth over hers as he thrust his way into her as deep as he could get until his balls were pressed into her bum. He was more than thankful that he’d already come so he could last a bit longer. He’d still come embarrassingly fast, he was sure, but now he had a little advantage. Instead of three minutes, possibly ten? He hoped. At minimum. Because he didn’t want this feeling to ever end. He’d fuck his stepmom for the rest of his life if it felt this way. They could just stay like this in her bed, slipping together and kissing and being connected.

A knock at the door and the voice of a female was heard from behind the wood.

Harry stopped his movements and Y/n grasped onto him with one hand to keep him still and put her finger up to her mouth, “Who’s there?”

“I’m Harry’s friend, Leslie. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where he went.”

Harry’s breaths were rapid as he stared down at the pretty woman he was inside of. He’d totally forgotten about Leslie.

“Uh… I think he left? Maybe? Not sure hon! I’m in the middle of something and…” she didn’t know how to get rid of the girl. She didn’t want to be rude but she was truly very much in the middle of something. Something very good. She was just thankful that the door was locked.

Harry slowly began thrusting again as he kept his eyes on Y/n’s, holding himself up over her.

“That’s okay! Sorry! I’ll be leaving. Just tell Harry I will talk to him later!”

The smirk on Harry’s face as he began to press in harder had Y/n’s tummy on fire, or perhaps it was his lengthy cock pushing into her guts, “Thank fuck she’s gone. In the middle of losing my virginity here,” he laughed as he rocked his hips sharply and Y/n grunted at the harsh thud.

“Oooh… fuuu….” Y/n moaned with a smile as he did it again, “So good like that. You gonna fuck me a little harder now? Be a good boy and make it hurt a little.”

Harry was a good listener. Had always been. This time was no different. He began to plunge into her with a dizzying drag, forceful and trenchant. Just like she liked. Especially when it was Harry doing it.

“Like that? You want it like that?” He punctuated his words with each rut of his hips.

“Yeah, just like that,” she scraped her nails over his back and keened as her body was rocked upward on each of his thrusts, “How do you feel? Tell me what it’s like.”

Harry’s hips stuttered as he brought the cadence down so he could speak, “Fuck, it’s good. So fucking nice,” he wanted to say more about how it felt. Wanted to tell her he could do this with her forever and that her pussy was the only one he’d want to fuck from now on (he was sure of that). Wanted to blurt out that she was so pretty and how perfect they looked together. But he held back with the understanding that his lust was clouding the things his heart was feeling at that moment.

“Tell me mmm… oh yes! Right there!” She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from shouting loudly when Harry ground into her just right, not sure if Leslie was still in the house or not, “Tell me what it feels like inside of me.”

Harry’s panted words were slow and deep, “Like I’m gonna come harder than I ever have. It’s so warm and smooth. Gripping me so tight. Never want it to stop…” his hips smacked against hers as he moved into her with a hungry force.

Her mouth was wide open as her breaths were being knocked out of her lungs and her tits swayed under him.

Harry looked down at his sexy stepmom with her lusty face and body and he lowered down to wrap his lips around hers. She brought her legs over his back and pushed at his bottom with her heels to urge him deeper.

Using his forearms to hold himself up he rolled his hips into her slowing down his pace to make it last. He wanted to feel her like this for a little longer. He knew he could come soon.

Wet squelches between their bodies where they were connected and sliding together with no barriers and tiny creeks from the mattress filled the room. The sound of illicit sex. The sound of something happening that was so wrong that it was good. So good.

Y/n could tell Harry was going to come as his breaths heaved and his thighs trembled against her each time he pushed in, “Harry… you feel so good filling me up. I want to come too,” her words were panted as Harry sliced into her deeply and stilled his hips as he looked down at her.

“Want you to come too. What do you need, Y/n?” Harry’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Is it okay if I get on top and ride you how I like? Always come when I get on top.”

Harry smiled and licked into her mouth for a good moment, pulling at her lips and grinding into her further so she could feel him as deep as he could possibly go before, pulling back and gently bringing her thighs down as she placed her feet flat onto the mattress.

Y/n sat up and ogled Harry’s body as he turned and moved to his side. She crawled over him, pushing him down to his back, and sat over her knees between his legs. She brushed her palms up his sturdy thighs up to his hips, never touching his throbbing prick before leaning over him and kissing his right thigh upward to the apex of his thigh and crotch, careful to leave him wanting. Repeating the same worship on his left thigh but taking a little time over the tiger tattoo. She looked up at him as she licked over the ink and then continued kissing her way up, devastatingly close to where he needed her. So close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry. All of you,” she brushed her hands up over his laurels and to the butterfly that was rising and falling with his breath, “I’m surprised you haven’t found someone special already.” She praised. As she lowered her lips to his belly button he felt her hair ghost over his cock and whimpered.

Y/n smiled into his skin as she grazed her teeth gently upward to the butterfly licked around the lines before dotting hot kisses over his pecs, “Please… please…”

Raising her face and looking up at her stepson, “Please? What is it, baby? What do you need?” Her smirk was devious. Harry loved it. He fucking loved every single thing she was doing.

“Wanna feel you on top. Gonna burst.”

Lowering her lips back to his pecs she sucked a nipple passed her lips and nipped. Harry threw his head back into the pillow and coughed out a loud groan, “Ask me nicely. Like a good boy. You’ll get anything you want from me if you’re good, Harry.” Her words were breathed out over his skin and the spattering of chest hair. Her lips made their way up to the swallows.

“Please, ma’am. I want to feel you on top. If you… ffuck… please.”

Her grin did not disappear as she licked and pecked her way up to his neck, “I’m dripping for you, Harry. Such a sweet boy with such a big cock for me to play with. Isn’t that right?”

Harry was going to lose it. This was his fantasy. No. It was better than anything he imagined. Y/n was better. He loved being put in his place because most of the time no one ever challenged him. Or made him feel this way.

“Y…yes. Just for you.”

Y/n sat up and straddled him, placing her knees down on the mattress to the sides of his hips. Finally. She placed her messy cunt over his shaft and slid herself up toward his frenulum and down toward his base, “Just for me. That’s right. Gonna let me play with your cock and fuck myself on it and make myself come, yeah?”

Harry nodded frantically and placed his palms on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his pecs, “When I start to ride you I’m gonna go slow, up and down like this,” she demonstrated by repeating the motion of her hips, tilting her pelvis down and letting her clit drive up and down over him as she panted, “so I can keep my clit in contact with your pelvis and I’m gonna come pretty fast. I need you to let me come before you do. And if you want you can come inside of me. That’s up to you. Just let me know what you want.”

Harry nodded, “It’s okay if I come inside of you?”

“Yes, it is. Would love it if you did but it’s your choice in the end. Can come in my mouth again if you want, or my tits. Whatever you like.”

“Inside of you, please. That’s what I want.”

“Mmm… such a good boy,” she tilted herself down so her breasts ghosted over his chest as she kissed him softly, lips moving with his and small sips of tongue before she slowly sunk down over him. That same mouthwatering initial push of his wide tip into her opening snapped and then spread her apart, “Hhharry! Fuck your dick is so fucking good!”

He couldn’t speak. It was so intense. His fingers gripped her hips as she shifted over him slowly. Her nails pinched into the flesh over his muscled pectorals and he felt his balls tighten. Her moans and pretty mouth with her tongue peeking out had him leaking steadily with pre cum, “I’m trying…” he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her tits swayed as she rode him and the way she felt on him had him tipping too fast, “Fuck… Want you to come first…”

She cooed and slowed her hips, sitting upright and changing the position of him inside of her. Deeper yet as she leaned back gently and looked down to where his cock was buried into her.

Harry chanced a peek, not wanting to miss it, and he was not ready for the sight. He groaned and brought one hand from her hip to her clit and then looked up at her before focusing back on the way his cock spread her pussy lips as he thumbed over her clit.

“My sweet boy. Just hang on. This feels so perfect. Just want to soak it in with you.” She lowered her hand over his fingers where he was circling over her button and she hissed, “Gonna make me come so hard Harry,” she swayed her hips back and forth, keeping herself upright so they could enjoy the lurid show of their connected bodies.

Currents of hot arousal coursed through her body as she clenched over him and felt his cock nudging her cervix. It was a tight fit but it had her body leaning into an orgasm.

She leaned back forward, Harry’s fingers pushed away as he placed his hand back onto her hip and she slid up and down, dragging her clit into his pelvis and her gasps and fluttering walls signaled to Harry she was coming.

He closed his eyes and felt sweat at his temple as he felt her squeezing and pulsing as she moaned his name and he felt her thighs shaking, “Yes… yes! Harry! I need you… need this… Hhaaarry… fuck! Fffuck!”

The mattress moved and creaked under Harry’s back as his stepmom got off on his cock and Harry was certain he was already filling her up with gushes of his pre-come. He was doing his best but he’d never experienced a cunt squeezing around him in orgasm. It was witchcraft and he was obsessed. He’d never be the same.

“Come! Harry, come inside of me baby…” she moaned as she continued rocking over him, everything slick and smooth between them.

Harry choked out the loudest moan and he was so far gone he couldn’t be bothered to care how vocal it was. He didn't care if anyone heard it. He was coming and his sight dimmed as he pumped into his stepmom’s pussy as she milked him with her spasming muscle. Together their moans were the music of relief.

Y/n could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of her as he released his sperm into her aching and slippery inner tissues. He was punching into her so deep from below her it made her quiver in euphoric pain. She leaned over him and attached their mouths as he finished himself inside of her. She grasped his head on each side, her fingers in his thick hair to keep his head tilted up so their lips could move together.

He'd come undone completely. Tears pricked at his eyes and slid down his cheeks as he whined into her mouth and attempted to kiss her in return. He moved his hands to her ass and pressed her down as he lifted his hips so he could burrow in deep causing her to gasp and then squeak at the punishing plunge.

“Fuck, Harry!”

They were both shivering and heaving and kissing with saliva-covered lips and moans and wildly beating hearts.

When he’d calmed he sucked in a sharp breath as she collapsed over him and snuggled her face into his neck. They were sweaty and sticky and hot but it felt precious and perfect.

Harry closed his eyes and basked in the way Y/n felt on top of him, her warm breath at his neck, her wet pussy soothing his softening cock as his heart calmed. He dragged his hands up from her bottom to her back and rubbed along her spine, the pads of his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat that had formed.

He felt her lips pucker at his neck and then her nose push upward until her lips were at his jaw and then she pushed up to look down at him.

“Are you okay?”

Harry couldn’t imagine not being okay as long as he was getting fucked like that. But the issue was that Y/n was not just some girl he could date and then fall in love with. There would be no possibility of them being together. In fact, he was unsure that this would ever happen again and that had his heart sinking before he could even answer her.

She noticed the look of unease over his features and she swiped at his cheeks with her thumbs, “Hey… what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was that-“

“No. That was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was perfect, Y/n. I’m… fine. I’m okay. Just thinking.”

She nodded as she moved herself off of him and lay on her side to talk to him. He followed her and rolled to his side, his hands not leaving her hips, not yet ready to be rid of this moment.

“Tell me. What are you thinking about it? You can talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over his arms and up to his shoulders as she watched his glassy eyes closely.

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head, “It’s stupid. It’s not your problem.”

Y/n sighed and lifted her leg to drape her thigh over his, “Talk to me. Please. We just did something very risky and now we’re treading in dangerous water. Let’s keep open with each other. Okay? Because there’s no one else to talk to about this,” she grazed her knuckles along his cheekbone, “Pretty boy. Please talk to me.”

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to gather the thoughts brimming from his head.

“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna forget about this and move on.” He opened his eyes to look at her and slowly smoothed his palm over her side and to her breast, “I really like you. I’m feeling things that maybe I shouldn’t.”

Y/n nodded and swallowed. She loved the way his fingers ghosted over her nipple and how glassy his green eyes were, how gentle, “Me too.”

He blinked his eyes, all shiny eyelids and damp lashes covering and then revealing his pretty irises, “You do? Feel things?”

She grinned and closed her eyes. It felt like a lot. She wasn’t in love with him or anything and this had been a mistake for sure. An epic error. But she was feeling something. His warmth and his heart and his excitement. It transferred over to her veins and her skin and the roots of her hair and sparked a longing for something. When she opened her eyes again she licked her lips, “Yeah. I like you a lot. Wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t.”

“Would you… consider doing it again? With me? Like,” he clenched his jaw and brought his hand up to her clavicle, “a thing just for us. Our secret?”

He was sure she’d say no.

Biting her lips she lifted herself and pulled Harry’s bottom arm under her head so she could draw in closer to him. She just wanted to be as close as possible. She brought her hand to lie flat over his heart and tilted her head back to look up at him, her thigh still braced over his hip. He moved his hand down her body to the back of her thigh as she adjusted herself in close.

“It’s so bad. What we’ve just done. It crosses a line. So many invisible lines,” she whispered as she traced her finger upward to his neck, “But… I guess I don’t care. Because I wanna keep doing it. I guess that makes me a terrible person.”

Stitching his brows together he frowned, “You’re a beautiful person, Y/n. So kind and smart,” he squeezed her hip and pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her. His stepmom, his lover, his paramour. He pulled back, his nose pressed to hers, “If you’re a terrible person then I’m right there with you. Let’s be terrible people together.”

They both laughed at Harry’s words and grinned widely.

It was ludicrous. A wild suggestion to continue their illicit affair. Of course, it would be easy. Too easy. That is as long as no one ever found out.

“Do I have you for the rest of the day?” Y/n tucked herself in closer as she asked.

“That you do. And I think there’s so much more for you to teach me. Might be a really late night for us.”

“Oh definitely, until the wee hours. So many things you need to learn before I let you leave.”

Next part: 2. No panties? | A Good Boy Masterlist

A/N: What did you think? I have so many ideas for this story but I didn't want it to get any longer than it already is. Would you guys be interested in seeing more? Let me know!

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