#sorry it took me so long to answer I was thinking real hard on things I would want to know lmaoo

[coyoteclan]

Honestly I really wanna document and draw a clangen save, I was wondering if you had any tips?

Of course!! I would highly recommend writing down like. The most interesting things to you. See something you think you might wanna draw? Write it down! Even if you decide to exclude it later on, at least you have it there rather than it being eaten by the void (having somewhere to put screenshots is great too, I just made a discord server to through things in lol)

If you decide to have any sort of storyline you want to try to follow, I definitely recommend writing down at least a short outline so you have a general direction you want to go in when clangen starts throwing things at you

I tend to be a few moons ahead at least now so I know what's coming, I'm about 10 ahead so I can get a good idea of how I want things to play out (also gives you time to design any new cats that show up/let kits grow so you can see what they look like)

I think the biggest thing is to draw what you want to draw, take as much time as you need to do it, and make sure it's fun for you! Getting burnout for a project like this sucks so just remember you don't need a timely schedule, the blog will always still be here and no one expects you to post Right Now

tldr is to write stuff down, make sure it's an enjoyable experience for you and have fun!

[lanternmice]

uh u h uh, woe wife be upon ye???

RUBS EYES. HI . I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I FEEL LIKE I COULD DIE. i've been looking at this for like an hour now and i can't even think of anything to say. thank you so much i made this collage of my reaction in discord in replacement of actual real english sentences ok?

[chxrry-lv]

니키 - Sneaking in - - — -> N.NK

Synopsis -> After a long day, Niki just wants cuddles from his girlfriend.

Pairing -> TiredBf!Niki x SleepyGf!FemReader.

Warning -> None!

*ೃ༄ click here - WC -> 0.8k

DESC - ✿︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄ This is my only account!! any other account that has my work! Please don't be afraid to P.M me and help take it down.. & All works under - #✶.enha

Niki held his breath as he slowly and quietly closed the window of your dorm room.

He closed the curtains so you wouldn't be bothered by the moonlight.

It's late, nearing two in the morning, and he knows after the day you had you've got to be in a deep sleep now.

He didn't want to wake you. At least, not yet.

So he tried to be as quiet and as careful as he possibly could.

But that was a little easier said than done as he walked through your room and had to be careful not to step or trip on anything you might have on the floor.

He soon began to tiptoe to your bed and finally, he reached it.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and then quietly took his shoes off before she crawled under the covers with you.

He wanted to get here much sooner than this but he's been busy since early this morning and just finished everything he had to do today an hour or so ago.

It felt like time had just dragged on today.

He was completely exhausted and felt very stressed.

His day was, honestly, terrible; one of the worst that's one of the reasons why he snuck in so late tonight.

Because until now, he didn't have the chance to see you and he needs cuddles from you more than he ever has before.

He curled up with you and put his arms around you to hold you tight.

But as he did so, his hand fell to your back, and your eyes flew open at the feeling.

At first, you had no idea that it was him.

The only thing you knew was it was late and dark and someone was in your bed.

You almost screamed but Niki felt you jump and was quick to shush you before you made a sound.

"Shh. Baby, it's just me."

"Nini?" You mumbled sleepily and turned over to face him. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my dorm room?"

"I snuck in through your window." He said.

"You climbed all the way up here?"

"Yeah." He answered as he tangled his legs with yours.

"I don't think you've ever done that before. Are you alright? Not that I'm complaining but it's after two am. Why are you here?"

"I had a very bad day." He sighed as you began to brush your fingertips across his skin. "It was just awful. One of the worst I've had in quite some time. I'm exhausted and I'm so stressed out and I just need some cuddles."

"Oh, niki," you cooed and curled up as close as you could, holding onto him tightly. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I know things have been hard for you lately. I'm more than happy to give you all the cuddles you want."

"Thank you." He spoke softly as he kissed your head.

"Do you want to talk about it? You can tell me anything you want to get off your chest. I'll listen to every word."

"I know you will, my love. But no. I'd rather just hold you. I want to try and forget about the entire day if I can and just hope that tomorrow is better."

"Baby, I'm sure it will be." You said as you played with his hair.

"You deserve the world. I have hope that tomorrow will be a much better day. You deserve it."

"Thank you." He said and for the first time all day, he cracked a real and genuine smile.

"Are you warm? Have some of my blanket." You said and covered him up with your blanket, letting her have as much of it as he wanted.

"The day is over, baby. You're okay now. You're here with me. I've got you."

Your words were so sweet and so comforting and they helped to make him feel so much better.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He softly spoke as he brushed his fingers across your back. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you. You're so sweet and I'm just so in love with you."

"Niki, I'm so in love with you. You don't ever have to wonder what you'd ever do without me because I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. I promise."

He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

Sometimes, those worries creep into his brain.

He just needs you to remind him that you're never leaving.

Because you know he isn't ever either.

"I know it was a bad day but you don't have to worry about a thing anymore. It's all over. It's just us now. I'll cuddle you until the sun comes up. I won't let go."

He smiled for a few seconds, until you put your lips on his and gave her a sweet kiss.

"Get some rest. I love you, angel."

"I love you more, sweet girl." He said and held you tighter as you put your head on his chest and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep together.

©chxrry-lv

[romanticintheory]

thinking about fellow soldier!reader coming back to ghost after having been mistaken for kia

gn!reader x simon "ghost" riley

-maybe he's back in your shared apartment, holding the last photo he took with you.

-it was taken the day of your birthday, with your arms around simon's waist and a gleeful smile permanently etched on your face.

-you were looking directly at the camera with your eyes crinkled at the corners. simon, however, was looking at you and only you with an expression only a lovestruck fool could manage.

-he had long since stopped crying about what he believed was your death. when price came to him with a somber expression and the news that you were on the wrong end of an explosion, the only thing he could do was cry or be angry.

-now, he felt nothing.

-you could imagine his surprise when he hears the front door open. did he forget to lock it? was someone breaking in? he didn't care enough to prepare himself for a potential attack.

-but, no, you walked in with an ungodly amount of bandaged wounds and a tired look on your face.

-you expected him to stand from his place on the sofa to meet you, but he didn't. he thought he was imagining things, again, so he said nothing.

-"simon," you said softly, not bothering to take off your shoes and throwing you things onto the ground next to you.

-still, he said nothing.

-"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. price said he tried to contact you but that you never answered," you continued. nobody knew where you and ghost lived, and simon's grief took the form of self-isolation.

-he still didn't answer you at this point, and it was becoming unsettling.

-"simon, can you hear me?"

-"you're not real," was all he could muster. he didn't have the heart to tell "fake" you to go away or beg himself to wake up from his supposed dream. "i can't do this again. you're not real."

-you realized just how hard your false death had hit him.

-"i'm real. i promise. i was able to take cover last second and-"

-"no. you're dead with not even a body to recover because i wasn't there to protect you. god, i..." the words got stuck in his throat as he leaned forward on the sofa, holding his head in his hands and near trembling.

-you dropped to your knees in front of him like a follower worshipping their god. taking his hands, you held them tight as you could in a silent attempt at convincing him you were alive.

-there was a moment of silence between the two of you before he drew his hands away from yours. it made your heart hurt.

-"simon..." you were grasping at straws, now, trying to figure out how to convince him of what was true. maybe there was something in your luggage that might help.

-as soon as you turned your body to your bags by the front door, you were pulled right back in by a pair of strong arms.

-he was hugging you like the moment he let go, you'd disappear into thin air (and, in a way, he believed it to be a possibility). after being pulled from your shock, you immediately brought your own arms to reciprocate the embrace.

-"(y/n)," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. there was still a part of him that couldn't believe he had you with him. if he weren't so thankful, he'd be lecturing you about acting wreckless on missions and convincing you to quit your job so nothing like this happened again.

-but, for now, he was content like this.

[ellecdc]

babe I recently discovered ur account and now I'm obsessed!!!!! I have devoured ur masterlist! Also I'm new to tumblr so I'm sorry if I'm doing or saying anything wrong pls correct me! I just wanna hype u up queen! Also ok fic request! It's not smut it's smut adjacent! I imagine this with Remus but u can totally change it if u want! Imagine reader whose boobs get super sore before her period and may be Remus is trying to initiate sex like they r making out and he goes to touch her boob and she winces and he's like did I just hurt u? And she's like no no it's fine and may be he believes her but he touches her again and she flinches and he's just like what is wrong don't lie and it's that her ex never cared if her boobs hurt or sex sad painful before her period and just Remus love (sorry it's so long def self indulgent bc my boobs r super sore and sex kinda hurts leading up my period and I just want someone to understand and not make me feel guilty about it)

aawweeee so glad you found me! and thanks for the prompt, lovie <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader whose boobs are sore close to her period [1.4k words]

CW: things get sort of steamy/lead up to smut with no real smut, sexual & non-sexual nudity, mature themes, 18+

You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face when you heard Remus navigating the hall in a way you could tell he thought to be quiet before his head of messy, tawny brown curls appeared in the crack of your bedroom door.

“Hi dove.” He murmured softly as if still unsure if you were asleep or not; his eyes were warm and sweet as honey as he smiled widely and unbiddenly at you.

“Hi handsome.” You greeted in return as you put your book down and invited him in which he accepted eagerly.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He moaned as he crawled up into the bed and melted into you; arms weasingly around your middle as he shoved his face into the crook of your neck greedily. 

“Missed me?” You laughed as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “You were hardly gone three hours.”

“S’too long.” He mumbled, earning him a giggle as you tried to pull away at the tickle of his breath against your neck.

He groaned somewhat hungrily as he pulled you in tighter, beginning to trace kisses up the column of your throat.

You tightened your grip of his hair which only seemed to spur him on as he shifted so he was hovering over half of you. 

“Didn’t you miss me?” He asked under his breath before bringing his lips to yours for an agonisingly long and slow kiss. “Hm?” He continued as if he hadn’t just impeded your ability to answer him. 

“I always miss you, Rem.” You murmured back as he began marking kisses along your jaw and trailing towards your chest. 

He made a sympathetic sound as he got to the top of the tank top you usually slept in, hooking his finger along the neckline and pulling it out of his way to expose your - quite swollen, actually - tits. 

“Neither of us should ever be allowed to leave.” He concurred, switching between wet, open mouthed kisses and sucking love bites into your exposed skin. 

“Don’t you think your friends would miss you?” You asked then, thoroughly enjoying the show as you continued to mess with his hair. 

“Tough.” He said simply before moving his hand to cup one of your breasts to lift it into his mouth, causing you to suck in a pained breath.

All movements stopped and Remus seemed to be holding his breath as his eyes flit up to yours. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asked cautiously.

You let out the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding and nodded at him. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” You agreed, trying to ignore how painfully sensitive your boobs were this close to your period as you encouraged his face back down to your chest.

With only a little hesitation, he continued his ministrations before moving over to your other to bestow upon it the same amount of care. 

You could feel him growing hard as he repositioned himself in your lap, and you tried to focus on that slightly warm feeling trying to grow between your legs (though not nearly as effectively as it had been the week prior) and his pleasure as you allowed him to take from you what he pleased.

But one more firm grasp of your tit had you wincing with a small whine and a flip was switched.

Remus was kneeling; his hands no longer on you which only made you wince in embarrassment rather than pain as he scrutinised you.

“What happened, dove? What’d I do?”

“Nothing, Rem, you didn’t do an-”

“Don’t fib.” He interrupted, his tone stern but his lip jutting out in a very dramatic pout. 

“I’m okay.” You murmured, though you did attempt to sit up and replace your boobs into the confinement of your tank top. Remus watched the action with rapt attention. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked then, and his voice sounded so small that you actually wanted to cry.

“No! No, baby, I’m- ugh, I’m sorry, you didn’t hurt me, I’m just hurting.” You appeased, reaching out to stroke his arm in a manner you hoped to be soothing. 

He seemed to consider your form again as his shoulders sagged. “You’re sore.” He concluded. 

“Yeah, I… well, I get a little sore around this time of the month, you know?” You admitted, watching as Remus’ expression shifted from one of worry to one of abject horror.

“Dovey.” He chided as he stared at you wide eyed.

“It’s okay! I’m fine, we can keep going if you want, I-”

But you only seemed to horrify him even more as his head reared back in shock. “Keep going!? Baby, you are sore to the touch and you were just going to let me maul you?!”

You found yourself very much ill-prepared for this conversation as you shook your head in confusion. “Well, I just meant, if you wanted to we-”

But Remus was scoffing and waving you off before standing abruptly and moving towards the attached bathroom, scolding you along the way.

“Bollocks to what I want, dove. My desire doesn’t come before your comfort.” He explained before you heard water running and him muttering something in Welsh under his breath. 

You were having a hard time understanding whether you were in actual trouble or not before he came padding back out of the bathroom - still muttering to himself in Welsh - with a divot between his brows and a damp washcloth in his hands.

“Take this off, dove.” He directed; tone now soft and alerting you to the fact that there was no real heat behind his chiding.

You obediently shed your tank top and tossed aside as Remus guided you to lay back onto your pillows and placed the cold cloth on your chest.

“Poor girls.” He cooed as he situated himself beside you. “Was being s’mean to them, too.” 

“Rem-”

He simply shushed you and placed a quick kiss on your nose before dotting a gentle one on each of your tits. 

“They’re gonna hate me; they’re gonna think I’m a monster.” He lamented woefully before standing up to change into his pyjamas. 

“They don’t know a damn thing.” You laughed as you let out a breath, relishing in the ease of your banter with Remus.

You weren’t used to it; things being easy, that is. Relationships always felt like hard work before.

Your relationship with Remus still required work, mind you, but it wasn’t hard; it was comfortable and patient and flexible and understanding.

There was no forcing puzzle pieces to fit when their edges didn’t match, there was no walking on eggshells wondering what sort of mood he was going to be in, and there was no stewing on conversations as you tried and failed to fall asleep at night wondering what in the hell you’d manage to do wrong this time.

No, Remus was easy; he was easy to get along with, easy to live with, easy to love.

He was just so easy.

You hoped he thought the same of you.

“Dovey.” He murmured quietly, now apparently kneeling on the floor on your side of the bed as he rested his chin on his forearms. “You know that, right?” He continued when you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Know what?” 

His mouth pursed again in a small pout before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder. 

“That what I want should never come before what you need; that my desires are nowhere near as important as your comfort.”

His eyes moved to watch as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. “Okay.” You whispered.

He let out a sad breath as his brows twitched in sympathy, but you were thankful he opted not to comment on it. 

“I love you.” He offered then, eyes moving back up to yours as he used one of his knuckles to rub at your upper arm affectionately.

“I love you too.” You answered readily. 

He seemed appeased by that and stood to press a more assured kiss to your lips. “Do you want me to run this under cold water again? Or would something else help?”

You pretended to think about it before looking back up at him through your lashes. “Think we could cuddle?”

Remus let out a chuckle as he pressed another kiss, this time to your forehead, and pulled the cloth off of your chest. 

“It’s like you read my mind, sweetheart.”

[boobabietch]

You needed me | Paige Bueckers x reader

Warnings: smuttttt, sub!Paige, bottom!Paige, oral (p receiving), fingering (P receiving), no use of Y/N, reader is annoying and it annoys Paige lmao

A/N: Based on this request and honestly I’m such a sucker for sub!Paige and I think this woman needs to be pleased more often!!!! As always English is not my first language so if you find something wrong tell me so I can change it asap, likes, reblogs and comments(!!!) are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open, with nothing else to say, enjoy! Love Sof :))

You could see it from the moment she woke up, Paige was in one of her moods. The kind where every little thing seemed to set her off, and no matter how hard you tried to lighten things up, it only seemed to make her retreat further into herself.

You understood her better than anyone, though.

Knew when to push and when to back off, so you gave her space, letting her have her silence. But now, as the night dragged on, you couldn’t take it anymore. The silence never sat right between you two, not for long.

So, you walked into her room, flopping down next to her without saying a word. Paige didn’t even glance up, just kept scrolling through her phone, her face scrunched up like she was still lost in whatever frustration she’d been holding onto all day. You waited for a minute, feeling the tension between you both.

It was killing you.

“You still mad?” you finally asked, your voice low but teasing.

“Not mad,” she huffed, but you could see the tightness in her jaw, the way her body tensed just from your presence.

“Sure, you’re not,” you muttered, reaching out to brush a stray lock of blonde hair from her face. She glared at you, but it lacked any real heat, more of that leftover irritation than actual anger. You pressed closer, your hand traveling to cup her jaw lightly, feeling her resolve start to crack. “Come on, P. Don’t be like that.”

Her sigh told you everything you needed to know. She was giving in, even if she didn’t want to admit it yet. But for you, that wasn’t enough.

You shifted even closer, hand on her waist, pulling her closer, lips brushing against her neck, soft at first, just enough to make her shiver. “You know you can’t stay mad at me for long,” you whispered, smirking as you felt the slight tremble in her body.

She didn’t respond, but you knew you were wearing her down. Kissing along her jaw, your hands found her thighs, resting there lightly at first, just testing the waters. “You wanna keep being annoyed, or you wanna let me make it better?” you murmured, your voice dropping into that low, raspy tone that always got to her.

Still no answer, but the way her breath hitched, the way her hands twitched, told you everything. You took that as your green light, hands slipping up her thighs, pushing her legs apart as you settled between them, your lips trailing lower, kissing, biting, taking her sports bra off and tossing it aside carelessly, knowing exactly how to push her buttons. Paige let out a shaky breath, and you couldn’t help the smug grin that tugged at your lips.

“I’m sorry for being annoying,” you murmured against her skin, your mouth hovering over her breast. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

She didn’t say anything, but her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer, and that was all the permission you needed. You knew exactly what she liked, how to touch her, how to kiss her

How to please her.

And you could feel the tension in her body melting away with each passing second.

Your lips trailed lower, kissing her stomach, your hands working quickly but not too fast, teasing, making her squirm beneath you. By the time you had her shorts off, whatever had her upset was long forgotten. Her head fell back, her eyes half-closed, lost in the moment.

“See,” you murmured, kissing the inside of her thigh, sucking enough to know it’ll leave a mark “you’re already feeling better.”

Paige groaned, her grip on your hair tightening, and you grinned. Even when she was mad or annoyed, she couldn’t hide the way her body reacted to you.

You loved it.

“You can stop being mad at me now,” you teased, pressing soft kisses between her legs, your breath hot against were she needed you the most.

“I wasn’t mad,” she muttered, her voice shaky as your thumb started playing torturously soft with her clit, spreading her folds lightly, but you knew better. She always tried to play tough, but you could read her like a book.

“Mhm, sure,” you hummed, your tongue tracing a slow line along her, feeling her hips jerk in response. You held her down, maintaining control, your hands gripping her thighs with bruising strength as your mouth finally found home on her pussy, licking and sucking like a starved woman.

You sucked and licked her clit before slamming two fingers in her entrance, her grip on your hair tightened at the intrusion.

Her gasps and moans were all you needed to know you were winning. Paige was right on the edge, clenching on your fingers, her body trembling, back arching, hips grinding on you with desperation, breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. When you felt her start to tip over, you pulled back just enough to make her whimper in frustration, she looked down at you with that desperate expression she always had when she wasn’t having what she needed.

“You still mad, babe?” you asked, looking up at her, amusement clear in your voice as you saw the flush on her face, the way she was fighting to keep control.

“Just… shut up,” she breathed, head leaning back to rest on the pillow, too far gone now to care about her earlier mood.

You chuckled but didn’t need to be told twice. You dove back in, this time with no teasing, just pure focus. It only took a few more moments, a few more thrusts with your fingers curled to hit the spot that made her loose her fucking shit, before she was coming undone beneath you, her body tensing, a soft cry of release slipping from her lips.

You slowed down, tracing lazy circles on her clit, easing her through it, kissing her thighs softly as her breathing steadied, her body relaxing completely. After a moment, you crawled back up, kissing her softly, her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, then you kissed her, hands cupping her jaw, her release still present on the taste of your mouth. You pulled back, Paige’s eyes fluttered open, her expression soft, content, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction.

“Better now?” you asked, your thumb caressing her lower lip softly.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re an ass.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. “I know.”

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[foulphantomllama]

My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader

AESPA Winter x Male Reader (POV)

Y/N is an abroad student from Europe. When he realizes he has feelings for his bully, Minjeong, their love-hate relationship made them push each others limits.

I will be releasing it in chapters. If you guys like it, i will make it as long as possible. And also I can take requests! Enjoy your reading.

The Exchange Student

It was always hard for me to go to school in the mornings. There were multiple reasons but the main one was my bully. Minjeong. But everybody was calling her Winter. Because she was stone cold, rude. Her attitude has a certain charm, I’m not going to lie. I guess this was the main reason I took the bullying for so long. I may be an exchange student but, i wasn’t really the type you expect to get bullied. After all, she was literally pocket size. I even can call her efforts cute. It was like taking a beating from a two year old. But little did I know that this cat has very sharp claws.

I had classes three days a week. So does she. She was not the brightest student, but she was always on time to classes. I don’t remember a single one that she missed. I, on the other hand, was pretty good at my grades and I knew my way around nearly all of the subjects. But still, she found something to make fun of me. But mainly me being a westerner. As time passed by, I get used to her attitude towards me. At some point I was addicted to her verbal abuse. She mocks my accent, my eating habits, the way I study. Everything. This toxic relationship started to grew inside me. It was just like I had found the motivation I needed to stop thinking about the choices I made with my life. And I was still getting pretty annoyed at some things she does but, overall, I started to fell for her.

Like I said, waking up in the morning always made me think about my choices. What the fuck I was doing in Korea tho? But I always ended up looking at myself at the mirror. Although my self-esteem was at its lowest, I was surprisingly pretty egoistic. Don’t ask me how that is possible. I don’t know either. Just like one of those mornings, I come to school, grab myself a freshly brewed americano and when I was on my way to the class, I saw Minjeong coming towards me. “Hi” she said with a soft, nice voice. Something I did not heard from her before. She got me. “Hi” I said back. “Look” she started to talk. I was nervous. Why I was nervous? “I’m so sorry for all my attitude towards you.” I was shocked. Did she just.. apologized to me? “Don’t worry about it. We’re adults after all, In fact I was starting to like it.” I answered. “Ha” she smirked at me. But that smirk was too evil and too inviting. She was fucking me up. Making me stand for everything I hated before. “So, can we just talk over there?” she said to me. I accepted. We started walking together.

After a little walk, we sat at a bench looking towards our building. She took my cofee off my hand and started drinking it. “Sorry, I’m so nervous.” She said. “I was probably never should have bullied you from the start.” She looked at me. Her face was to innocent to be guilty. But she was. I knew that but still, wanted to hear the rest. “Do you need something?” I asked. “How did you knew?” she answered back. “My father says If I don’t pass my classes this year It will be over for me.” “What will be over?” I answered. “School.” She said. “He says he will remove me from the school.” She put the coffee to the side. Something was seriously off. I could feel it. But I agreed to help anyway. She was so happy when I agreed to help her. Some of it felt insanely real. Was it real?

[golbrocklovely]

crave // sam and colby

A/N: sorry for posting this so late. had to finish up a few things on it, and i'm super tired so it kinda took me a while. this fic was a lot of fun to write, and if you squint it's sort of a sequel to "our girlfriend" (but not actually). lmk what you think and happy haunting :)

prompt: snc are vamps, but they need to keep their secret under wraps. they ask you, their long time best friend, to come out with them on tour to be their blood donor. what could go wrong? || AU!vampire!sam and colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, but no actual sex, just a lot of dirty talk/description, snc are vampires, mentions of blood, biting, blood drinking (from both parties), their blood makes you horny, cursing, petnames mentioned: baby girl, sweetheart, darling, good girl, ours, deception, possibly some dubcon so just be weary of that if that's not your thing, but don't worry… it's all a dream…. or is it???

word count: 5428

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was odd having vampires for friends while being a human. Odd, but interesting.

Sam and Colby had been my friends since they moved out to LA, and it felt like we knew each other longer than that. We grew close almost instantly, telling each other some of our deepest secrets within the first few days of knowing one another. Then one day, they told me they were vampires. Of course I didn’t take them seriously; I mean who would? Vampires aren’t real.

I soon learned very quickly that they were when I caught one of the boys drinking from a girl at a party.

Eventually I came around to the idea. I mean, vampires are pretty cool, so knowing my best friends were ones was kind of awesome. Especially since that lead to so many other questions of what else is out there.

Sam and Colby weren’t much help in that department. They only knew that they were changed right before moving to LA. They didn’t know by who or why, but they learned to accept it and embrace it quickly. Everything new that they learned about themselves and their kind, they told me.

They were scared, however, that one day their secret would come out. A very small number of people knew about their... abilities. Vampires weren’t known to the broader world yet, and they definitely didn’t want to be the first to come out.

It was getting harder to hide their secret as they grew more and more successful. More eyes were on them. And then they told me about how they planned to go on a tour, meeting as many fans as possible across the US. I was excited for them, but was a little nervous. They deserved all the love that they were getting from their fans, but hiding their true identity wasn't going to be easy on tour.

But then, they asked me something I would have never expected.

“Would you go on tour with us as our... blood donor?” Colby asked, unable to keep eye contact with me.

I raised an eyebrow at him and Sam, “...What?”

“Okay, so... usually when we go out of the country or whatever, we’re able to secure a donor, or even blood bags from local hospitals. But because we are going to every state, sometimes twice, it’s hard to do that without people growing suspicious. And while we could go feed on people, we might get caught. So we were wondering if maybe you would want to go on tour with us and... we would drink from you instead.” Sam explained, fidgeting slightly in his chair.

Colby chimed in, “Of course you can say no. But if you do it, we would 100% compensate you, however you want. We know you’re busy with your career as well, but we promise to pay you well. And of course get you your own hotel rooms and food.”

“Everything would be paid for. And you would really be doing us a solid.” Sam added.

“What would my position be for those that ask?” I questioned, crossing my arms.

“You’d be our second assistant, since we already have one. Plus, we would just let anyone know that you’re our friend joining us to meet fans.” Sam answered.

“Hmm..." I asked, lowering my voice, "Does it hurt? Being... fed on?”

“The initial bite can feel like being pricked with a needle. But afterwards, it shouldn’t be bad.” Sam remarked.

Colby commented, "Plus we would give you our blo-"

Sam smacked him in the arm, glaring, "Dude, how about we ease into that conversation?"

"You would give me your blood? To what?" I queried.

They both paused, "...Drink."

I narrowed my eyes, "Humans can drink vampire blood?"

"Yes. And apparently they like it. A lot." Colby laughed.

Sam smirked, "He dated a girl once that got really into his blood. So much so she stalked him for it."

"Jesus," I mumbled. "Wait, was that-?"

"Ashley, yeah." Colby nodded.

I gasped, "Oh my god, I thought she was just crazy."

"Well, she was. Off of vampire blood." Sam chuckled.

"Our blood can give a euphoric feeling to the person that drinks it. So sometimes people react to it like it’s a drug." Colby mentioned.

Sam continued, "But it heals you, which is why we give it in the first place. If we drink from you, you drink ours."

"So... will you do it? Be our blood donor?" Colby asked, a nervous smile on his lips.

I took a minute, weighing the pros and cons in my mind. I exhaled, nodding, "Sure."

Both of them grinned excitedly. "Thank you, Y/N. You have no idea how much this helps us."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

The tour began a couple days later, all of us meeting at the airport and flying to our first stop, New York City. The meet and greet, sponsored by Zumiez, was being held in a large theater. It was gorgeous and very spacious. The nice thing was that I got my own little dressing room, filled with snacks and anything else I had requested. I was surprised at how weirdly relaxing my day had been, having just sat around and worked on a few things for my actual job.

Sam and Colby hadn't fed on me yet, and I was getting worried. How often do they need to drink? Are they both going to do it at once? Is it actually going to hurt? What-?

A soft knock at my door brought me out of my thoughts. I walked over to the door, opening it slowly. Sam stood, leaning against the door frame. "Can I come in?"

I nodded, opening the door more for him. "What's up?"

"Would you be okay with me drinking from you now? I know it's kind of last minute, but I promise next time I'll give you more of a heads up. Or maybe we could make a schedule or something." He laughed awkwardly.

"Can I ask some questions before we do it?" I requested, sitting down on the couch.

He agreed, leaning against the vanity across from me. "Of course. Whatever you want to know."

"How often do you guys need to drink?" I questioned.

"Once a day is usually our go to. More sometimes if we're really hungry or if we skipped a day." He admitted plainly.

"Do you both have to drink from me simultaneously?" I continued.

Sam shook his head, "No. If anything, it's better that we do it separately, especially since this is the first time you're having someone feed off of you."

"So Colby is gonna feed off of me later?" I asked, relaxing back against my seat.

"Maybe. He might skip today and feed tomorrow. That's what he was thinking of doing. He's a bit stronger than me when it comes to..." Sam cleared his throat, "urges."

"Oh... Have you guys ever... you know?" I mimed slicing my throat, killing someone.

He gaped at me, "My God no. We know how to stop before it ever gets to that point. The last thing we want to do is kill someone. So you don't need to worry. Plus, too much human blood makes us high."

"Really?" I snorted.

"Yeah. We only learned that from a random vampire we met in Vegas, so it might be a lie. We haven't exactly tested that theory." He commented.

"Okay..." I exhaled, "I think I'm ready."

He walked towards me, smiling politely. "Alright. Come here."

I slowly stood up, stepping towards him. He placed his hands on my waist, holding me in place.

He locked eyes with me, "If it hurts, you tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

"Yes sir." I saluted teasingly.

His face dropped, "I'm serious, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you. Neither of us do."

"I know. I appreciate the concern." I sighed, "Just drink."

He nodded, cupping one side of my face gently. He turned my head so my neck was more exposed. He lowered his head into my throat, breathing me in for a moment. My heart skipped a beat, confused and overwhelmed. I hadn't realized how intimate this was going to be.

Suddenly, he opened his mouth, sinking his fangs in. I winced, grabbing his forearms to steady myself. He took a gulp of my blood, a very quiet moan falling from his lips. I could feel my blood leave my body, my life draining gradually. My legs began to go limp, unable to hold up my body weight. Sam caught me, pressing me closer into his warm embrace. He grunted, pulling his mouth away, licking up the excess blood that spilt from the bite.

"Are you okay, Y/N? Talk to me." He held my face, making me focus on him.

I slurred my words a bit, "I feel... okayyyy."

"Here, let's sit you down and give you some of my blood." Sam walked me to the couch, placing me down. He sat behind me, leaning me against him. He bit into his wrist, blood gushing from it. "Drink, Y/N."

He pressed his wrist to my mouth, forcing my lips to open. I tasted his blood, grimacing at the taste. But suddenly, it tasted amazing. Like everything sweet I had ever had rolled into one. I wrapped my lips over his bite, drinking from him quickly. I had never been this thirsty for something before in my life. It was like being on the brink of dehydration and finding a whole bottle of water. I placed my hands on the back of his arm, needing him more in my mouth.

"There you go, baby girl. Drink up." Sam cooed, rubbing my hair softly.

I moaned against him, my body buzzing. My one hand dropped down onto his thigh, gripping it. Erotic thoughts crowded my mind, another groan leaving my mouth.

He pulled his arm away, sitting me up instantly. "That's enough, Y/N. Don't want to get you high."

I felt a whine fall from my lips, embarrassment heating up my cheeks as I realized what I did. "Oh, um, shit. My bad, Sam. Sorry."

"No, you're okay," he assured me, standing up. "I've heard it's hard for humans to stop once they've started, so we kinda have to yank you away from us."

I could suddenly feel my damp underwear press against me, my face burning up more. "I-I get it. Thanks for doing that. It felt like I couldn't stop. A-Are you okay?"

"Yeah, already healed." He showed his wrist, the bite gone. "Make sure to drink plenty of water and eat something. You'll probably actually feel hungry soon."

I pursed my lips. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."

Sam took a few steps towards the door, stopping abruptly. He spun back, his eyes wide. "Oh my God, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you something!"

I blinked, "What?

"Having our blood in your system... it might make you dream about us." He stated.

I chuckled, "Wait really? That's weird."

"Yeah. But um... the dreams might be a bit on the... sexual side?" He grimaced.

My face dropped, "What."

"That's what some people, girls, have said to us in the past," he mentioned. "I don't know if it's true, but it can happen. So I just want you to be aware."

I mumbled, "Would have been nice to know about this beforehand..."

Sam replied, his expression softened. "I apologize, really. It just slipped my mind. I haven't drank from someone directly in a while so I totally forgot."

"Hey, it's alright. It's just a dream." I added, "It might not even happen."

He grinned, "Exactly."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

It happened.

It very much happened.

The dream itself was odd, all over the place, and I barely remembered any of it. All I knew was that I woke up hot, sweating, and aching to be fucked. By specifically Sam. That, tied with literally soaking my underwear as he drank from me.... I was not excited to keep this job up.

Even if the pay was phenomenal.

But maybe things would get easier. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after we got into a routine.

The next day they told me that they would make sure to have one of them only feeding on me once a day, that was I wasn't 'overworked'. Sam would go on even days, Colby on odds. And today was odd.

It was midday, the boys already a couple hours into their meet and greet. I waited backstage in a small hallway, scrolling through Instagram. Colby hadn't drank from me, and I wondered if he even planned to.

I heard footsteps coming towards me, heavy on the heel. I looked up and spotted Colby. He gave me a light smile, growing closer to me.

"Hey, are you okay? Shouldn't you be out on stage meeting fans?" I questioned, squinting at him.

"We are. We're taking a ten minute break." He responded, pressing his back against the wall by me.

"Oh, that's good. You guys have been at it for..." I checked my watch, "Four hours, wow."

Colby interrupted, "I know this is last minute to ask you, but can I... get a drink?"

"Right here? Now?" I pointed to the hallway.

"Yeah. No one is coming down this hallway. Security is making sure of that." He stated firmly.

I lowered my voice, "Do they know?"

"Of course." He bit his lip, "I'm sorry to do this right now, but I'm worried if I wait until after, I might... snap, on someone."

My eyes widened, "Oh... We wouldn't want that."

"No, we would not." He laughed nervously.

"Um, yeah. Go ahead." I stood up, taking a deep breath as I looked at him.

"Here, put your hands on my shoulders. I don't want you to fall over." He directed.

"Okay." I giggled, doing what he said. He lightly placed his hands on my hips, pushing closer to me. I did my best not to shudder, his closeness making my heart erratic. I turned my neck towards the wall, feeling his breath fan across my skin. I inhaled, and felt his teeth sink in quickly. I gasped, the pain lasting for a moment. I cupped his shoulders hard as he drank from me, slowly draining my blood into himself. He hummed, his hands slipping up my back and pulling me in deeper. I sighed, pleasure taking over my senses.

It felt good to have Colby this close, to feel him drink from me. That thought alone made my heart skip.

Colby pulled away, looking at me hesitantly, "Are you okay? I heard your heart stop for a second."

"Wha? Yeah, I'm fine." I could feel my hands tremble, "I think I forgot to breathe."

"Well, take some of my blood." He bit his wrist, pushing it towards me.

"I don't know, I think I'm okay." I argued half-heartedly.

"Drink, Y/N. Don't be stubborn." Colby smirked playfully at me.

I glared back sassily, leaning towards his bite. I placed my mouth on it as he pressed it further into my mouth. His hand rested softly on my side as my body turned into him, my back pressing against his front. As I spun, his hand drifted lower, touching the top of my thigh.

I sucked his blood down, the sweetness driving me crazy immediately. It was different from Sam's, but just as addictive. He chuckled deeply at my eagerness, allowing me to wrap my hands around his arm to keep him close.

"It's okay darling. Drink up. I'm not going anywhere." He whispered low.

My blood raced at his words, a whimper falling from my lips. I could feel it again, the ache between my legs. But this time I didn't care. All I could think about was his blood, or his cock. And both were making me wet.

He pulled back suddenly, a 'pop' noise echoing off the fluorescent lighted walls from my mouth. "Y/N, while I would allow you to drink from me for forever, I gotta get back."

"I-I-I," I took a deep breath, getting my bearings again, "Yeah. That's, um, probably for the best."

"Are you okay? Do you need me to stay with you?" He questioned, looking me over.

"No. Go ahead. I'll be alright." I confirmed.

He pressed his forehead against mine sweetly, "Hey, I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner about the whole dream thing. How was it last night? Did you dream of Sam?"

I stepped back, blushing. "N-No. No, I didn't. I honestly can't remember my dream."

He beamed, "Well that's good. Maybe it will be the same tonight."

I nodded. "Hopefully."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

We were over a week into this arrangement and I felt like I was losing my mind.

Every day one of them was feeding on me, and every night I had a dirty dream about them. It didn't matter if I only had a sip of their blood or a lot. If their blood was in my system, I was dreaming about them fucking me senseless. And that's all I wanted. I couldn't even look at them without feeling like I wanted to rip their clothes off and beg them to fuck me.

It was embarrassing, tormenting, and made me feel insane. And also incredibly hot.

Luckily tonight was our first night off of the tour. We decided to all go out to eat and drink once it got late. Sam and Colby told me that they planned to find someone else to feed on, or possibly hit up a local blood bank, so I could rest easy tonight knowing they weren't going to feed on me.

God knows I needed the break...

Even though Sam and Colby's blood had been out of my system for a day, I still felt this overwhelming urge to fuck them. I couldn't deny that feeling this way left me confused beyond belief. Sure, they were good looking guys, and at times I had thought about kissing them or what it would be like to date them, but I never gave it more than a passing thought. But now all I could think about was them inside of me, taking me and doing what they wan-

No. No. No. Not tonight. Tonight I would relax, unwind, and drink.

And I did just that. I drank, and drank, and drank. The world felt a little off balance, a bit too spinny for my liking. I leaned against the wall of the bar, staring at the dance floor lights.

Sam sauntered over to me, "Heyyy, Y/N. You okay?"

"I'm Gucci, my dude," I snickered. I pointed at his drink, "Wait, vampires can get drunk?"

"Oh yeah. Especially since we didn't drink tonight." He admitted, then laughed. “Did you think we were acting all those times you saw us at parties plastered?”

"What really? I thought you guys planned to get some from..." I waved my hand around, "somewhere."

"We were, but it was a bust. Or our connection fell through." He shrugged it off, "But don't worry, we'll figure it out."

"I mean... you could always drink from me." I responded, ignoring the dull ache in my stomach.

He shook his head, "No, no. This is your night off. You deserve it. Don't worry about us."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you sure?"

"Of course, Y/N." He confirmed.

Colby stumbled over to us, saying something in Sam's ear. "Hey, we're gonna head back to the hotel. You ready to leave?"

"Actually... yeah. I think I've drank enough tonight." I giggled, walking through the crowd to the exit with Sam and Colby.

"Well, if you need to sober up a bit, our blood could help." Colby stated.

I huffed, "It's my night off."

"...From being drank from," Colby chuckled. "But if you want our blood, you can have some. Take your pick."

I glanced at the both of them, sighing. "How about we wait until we're back at the hotel, yeah? Then I'll figure that out."

The ride home was tense, or at least it was for me. I felt like both boys were looking at me, waiting for me to make my choice. My skin grew hot under their stare, the ache coming back again.

C'mon. This was supposed to be my one night off.

Entering the hotel, the boys locked arms with me gently, helping me to the elevator.

I smiled lazily, "You don't need to help me. I'm not that drunk."

"Really? You sure about that?" Sam smirked.

"Trust me." I mumbled, "I sobered up in the car."

“Well that's good. But you should still have some of our blood.” Colby persisted.

The elevator 'dinged' softly, the doors opening slowly. I walked down the hallway towards my room, the boys following right behind me. I pulled out my key card, swiping it and yanking open my door.

I whined, trying to pull my shoes off to no avail. "Remind me to never get drunk in heels again. It sucks." I flopped down on the bed, groaning into the cover.

"So, do you want us to leave? We can always do this in the morning." Sam asked.

I picked my head up, "No, it's okay. I'll be honest, I still haven't made a decision about who to drink from."

"Well take a second if you want to." Colby spoke.

"There's no need." I sat up, turning to them. "I don't want to do it out of order so... drink from me first."

He frowned. "What? No, it's your day off."

"It's fine, Colby. I know it is, but you guys didn't eat... drink, today." I assured him.

Colby looked over at Sam accusingly, and he shrugged. "I accidentally let it slip."

"You usually are a blabbermouth when you're drunk." I teased.

Colby shook his head, "We'll be fine."

"I mean... maybe we should drink, if she's okay with it." Sam argued lightly.

"I am okay with it. Plus, you'll just give me your blood anyway. So then we'll be even." I remarked.

Colby's expression softened, Sam's face matching his. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this if you don't want to."

"I totally don't mind, guys. Really." I insisted.

Colby paused for a minute, then nodded. "Okay, but we're only taking a little from you."

"That's fine by me." I stood up, swaying back and forth as my lightheadedness faded. The boys placed hands on my back, keeping me from falling.

Sam snorted, "Yeah, we're definitely only taking a little."

They gave each other a glance, Sam sliding towards me first. I gazed at him, snaking my eyes across his face, then tilted my head back.

His voice came out in a husky whisper, "Aren't you eager..."

I rolled my eyes, "Just do it before I change my-"

My breath hitched, Sam's fangs sinking deep into my skin. I grabbed his arms, bracing myself as he drank from me. He grunted lowly, his body firmly against mine.

I peered out of the corner of my eye, watching Colby watch us. He studied my face, taking in my expression. My eyes fluttered as Sam pulled away, stopping much sooner than he usually would.

"Fuck... I needed that." He wiped his mouth, making sure to lick the excess blood off his hand. My core throbbed at his actions. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. "Your turn, Colby."

He locked eyes with me, "You good?"

I stammered, "S-Sure. Go ahead."

"Let me know if it's too much, okay?" He uttered.

I nodded, moving my head to the other side and allowing him access. He lowered his mouth onto my neck, biting softly. I exhaled, my hands holding onto his arms. He took a few sips from me, then pulled back. "Wait, let me get a better angle."

I squinted at him, confused. He circled around, stopping behind me. His hands slithered to my hips, tugging me closer.

"Much better." He grunted, then sank his teeth into me hastily. I gasped, surprised by the force.

I looked up at Sam, his eyes gazing at us with a devilish glint. He cocked his head to the side, slinking over to us inch by inch. "I think you should take some of my blood now, Y/N. Before you get too light headed."

He bit into his wrist, placing it in front of me. "Drink up."

I leaned forward some, taking his blood into my mouth. I sighed, euphoria hitting me instantly. I had never had one of them drink from me while the other gave me blood. My mind was racing, my heart pounding loudly against my chest. My body in flames from pleasure and pain. And I couldn't tell which one I liked more.

Sam's fangs dazzled in the light as he spoke, "Oh, Colby. We forgot to tell her something again."

Colby released his mouth from my neck, swallowing, "And what could that be Sam?"

Sam's eyes landed on mine, almost empty of feeling, "When you exchange blood like this with us... it makes you ours."

I furrowed my brow at him, keeping my mouth on his wound. My voice came out muffled, "Ours?"

"Yeah. Ours. See, we might have deceived you a little bit." Sam shrugged.

"Our bad." Colby snickered.

"He and I have been into you for a while, Y/N. But we knew you only ever saw us as a friend. Plus, we didn't want to have to fight over you so we thought the best course of action would be to just... make you both of ours." Sam grinned evilly, "And God, you made it so easy. Just following along without question."

Colby pressed his lips against my ear, keeping his voice deep and low. "With our blood running through your system, you will always be ours. You will be just as obsessed with us as we are with you."

My mind and body barely took their words in, the only thing I wanted was more of Sam's blood. My cunt pulsed as his blood invaded my system, my mind only thinking of him and all of the things I wanted him to do to me.

Sam yanked his wrist away, a desperate mewl escaping my mouth.

My mind was foggy, my head catching up to what I just heard. "W-W-What? Are you guys-?"

Colby spun me, pushing me back into Sam. He wrapped his arm around me tight, biting into my neck. Colby did the same to his wrist, placing my mouth on it. I grunted against him, glaring at him for a moment before all of my anger melted into pure bliss.

Colby's blood mixed with Sam's... and suddenly I wanted nothing more than for both of them to take me. God I could almost feel them inside of me, touching me in all the right spots.

"There you go, baby. Such a good girl for us." Colby smirked.

Sam pulled his mouth away, just to place it against the hollow of my ear, "Our good girl."

I could feel some of my mind come back to me for a split second. I hissed against Colby's wrist, "Fuck you."

He scoffed, "Sweetheart, you can say that all you want, but I know deep down you don't mean it. Well, you don't mean it in that way."

"Don't lie to us, baby girl." Sam sang angrily, latching his mouth back onto my bite.

"You know how we know that? I've heard you every night of this tour moan our names in your sleep. I've heard the way you whimper and cry and beg for us to fuck you when you touch yourself," Colby growled, his eyes intense as they bore into mine. "Don't deny it, Y/N.

Sam yanked back his mouth as Colby pulled his wrist away. I panted, keeping my distance from them and pressing myself against the desk. They stared me down, taking me in like prey.

My legs were shaking, my body tingling everywhere. I felt like I was on fire from the inside out. I had never been so wet in my entire life. I wanted to scream at them, to hate them, to tell them to leave. But everything in my head and body were begging them to stay; to touch me.

Sam stepped towards me, closing the gap between us, "You're ours, Y/N. Doesn't that sound amazing? To be shared by us?"

I couldn't help but nod my head. I wanted to deny it, but it wasn't true.

"No one else can have you like this. Only us." Sam whispered into my ear, turning my head gently to look at him. He leaned in and kissed me deeply, taking my breath away with the feverish kiss. My hand dug into his shirt, holding on it as his tongue tasted mine.

I was ripped away from his kiss as Colby pushed himself against me. He cupped my face, rolling my head towards him. "Only us," he stated. He pressed his lips to mine, his mouth and tongue tender against my own. I whined as I felt Sam begin to kiss my neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin. I could hear him murmur 'ours' over and over again.

Colby removed his mouth from mine, following Sam's lead in kissing and nipping at my neck and body. I was overwhelmed, my chest rising and falling rapidly. I squeezed my eyes shut, still feeling Sam and Colby snake up and down my body with their hands and mouths. A breathy groan escaped my lips, my mind unable to slow down. If they touched the right spot, I would completely come undone.

I needed them. I wanted them. I would do anything for them.

The sound of silence fell over the room. Then, a low ringing took over my hearing. Soon it grew louder and louder and louder. I popped my eyes open, gasping.

I was in my hotel room, and it was bright outside. The ringing was my alarm on my phone going off - 9:30 A.M.

I sat up, my head weighing a thousand pounds. I was in my clothes from the night before, but tucked comfortably into bed.

How the fuck did I get here? Where the hell were Sam and Colby?

It suddenly dawned on me - Oh my God, that was a dream?

There's no way. That felt too real. That can't be right.

I changed quickly, knowing that Sam and Colby would be waiting for me in the lobby so we could travel to the next venue. I never unpacked, so I threw my dirty clothes in my suitcase, and trudged out the door with everything I had brought.

I stumbled down to the lobby, finding Sam and Colby waiting off to the side for me with their luggage. Their assistant was talking to them, along with someone from Zumiez's team, about the upcoming meet and greet.

Colby beamed when he saw me, "Hey, we were wondering if you were gonna make it."

"What happened last night?" I glared.

Sam turned at the sound of my voice, "Do you not remember...?"

"Just tell me what happened. Please." I answered, short.

Colby inhaled, "Well, we planned to... continue drinking in your room. But once we got there, you flopped on your bed and passed out."

"We figured you were too tired after all the traveling and drinking that we just decided to call it a night." Sam added.

Colby commented, "I took your shoes off before tucking you in. I know you hate falling asleep with heels on."

"Oh." I vaguely remembered falling onto my bed. And my shoes were off when I woke up… "I could have sworn something else happened."

Colby gasped lowly, "Did you have a dream about us?"

I immediately blushed, "Um, you could say that."

"What was it about? Tell me." He pleaded.

"I don't think you want to know, to be honest. I squirmed under their gaze, doing my best to ignore the parts of the dream my body couldn't forget. "It was kind of all over the place. And you guys were a bit... mean, to say the least."

"Oh, shit. Well, sorry that my dream self was an asshole to you." Colby apologized.

Sam agreed, "Ditto."

I half smiled, exhaling. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Y/N. You're our..." Sam smiled, "best friend. We would never be mean to you."

"Unless you want us to be, of course." Colby taunted, a mischievous look in his eye.

[ruskaroma]

First time with John Wick plssssssssssssssssssss

I truly think that the first time with John would be loving yet rough. I’m sorry, but that’s just how I paint him out to be.

He’s a killer, so it’s no surprise that his hands are naturally heavy and rough. He would touch your body with those large, dangerous hands, forever tainting it with his cruelty and brutality, making you submit yourself to his mercy.

For a man with few words, John sure does have his ways to make you shake and crumble under his touch while he says the most filthy, diabolical shit that could make even the devil blush. For some reason, he just finds you so beautiful wrecked and fucked that he can’t keep his words to himself.

The first time the two of you had sex, it was because he was jealous. You knew he was jealous but he didn’t admit that he was, and that was enough answer for you to get fucked as soon as the two of you arrived at your apartment.

It was a miracle that you managed to make him come with you to a company party even though all he did all night was stand beside you like he’s your bodyguard. Well, in a sense, he was your bodyguard, but his particular outfit that night got your co-workers wondering how the hell you were able to afford one.

John had kept his hand on the small of your back the majority of the night, like that was enough to show everybody that he was not only your bodyguard but also your very loving boyfriend who tolerated everyone in that room just for you.

But when he left to go to the bathroom and came back to a sight of another man being too friendly to you, John only realized that the whole “hand on the back” wasn’t enough to shoo those motherfuckers away.

John settled himself beside you again, but this time, he made sure to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his warmth, pretending like the other man beside you wasn’t there, because John could really not bother to care.

“Have I left you for too long?” 

“What?” You furrowed your brows, confused.

John didn’t answer after that, but he did glance at the man who was already staring at him and his actions the moment he arrived. He also didn’t introduce himself, the man simply didn’t deserve it.

“Uh, is he your boyfriend?” The man interjected, and you felt John’s fingers twitch gripping your waist.

“Oh–uh, yeah, he is,” you replied sheepishly, then turning your head to smile tightly at John who was just raising a brow at you. “You probably thought he was my bodyguard, eh? Everyone’s been saying that the moment we arrived.”

“Yeah, I thought that, too,” he laughed awkwardly.

The conversation soon died out. Maybe it had something to do with the man just feeling really awkward because he truly didn’t know John was your boyfriend, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that John had been staring at him dead in the eyes threateningly while you weren’t looking.

When the two of you were on your way home, John had been dead silent with his hand on your thigh the only thing indicating that he’s not as mad as he made himself out to be and he was just really jealous. You know a jealous man when you see one, you just didn’t think you’d see John being jealous first hand.

“Come on, babe, you really not going to speak?” You whined from your seat, grabbing his rough hand to your softer ones as you placed a kiss on the back of it. When you didn’t get a reaction, you pouted childishly. “Jooohhnnnn. Babeeeeee. Babyyyyy.”

John still didn’t react. He kept his eyes on the road.

“You’re for real ignoring me because you’re jealous? Really, John? Bit childish, isn’t it?”

Then, his eyes narrowed as he ripped his focus on the road and onto yours. “I’m not jealous.”

“So that gets you talking?”

“Because I’m not jealous.”

“Sure, sure.” You nodded your head like you’re convinced, and you saw John turned his attention back on the road again. You took this opportunity to continue poking at him. “I mean, it was kinda your fault that he assumed I was single.”

John hit the brakes too hard than usual at the red light, and that was enough to prove your theory that he was, in fact, jealous.

He looked at you offended, and it was kinda hard to believe that you were getting to see that expression on his face first hand considering he rarely ever shows any emotions.

“You know I’m not very big on PDA,” he grumbled under his breath. “I thought my hand on your back was enough. Clearly he didn’t get the memo.”

“So you are jealous?”

Again, he didn’t respond. For a very dangerous well known assassin, John was sure as hell a bit childish when it came to you, but you liked that about him. That only meant he trusted you enough to feel vulnerable around you, show you a side of him he never showed to any one else.

John parked his car in the parking lot and the two of you walked in comfortable silence. You had your arm tangled with his, walking side by side until you reached the elevator. It was only then you had felt the touch of his hand on your ass.

“Well, well, well… Is John Wick finally making the first move?”

Maybe teasing him was a bad idea, because your smirk was immediately wiped off when you’re thrown against the wall and creating a loud bang.

“John, holy shit, I don’t wanna pay for the damage–”

“Shut up,” he growled under his breath, ducking his face down and inhaling your scent, opening his mouth to suck the skin, his sharp teeth bruising your neck that you yelped and wrapped your arms around his broad back. 

“J–John, please don’t fuck me here–I wanna get fu–fucked on a real bed for our first time–”

Before he could even answer, the elevator’s door opened and he hauled himself off you in a matter of seconds. An old woman walked in, not bothering to look at the two of you as she pressed on the button to go up. You’re one floor above, you and John were just sharing side glances the entire ride.

When you reached your floor, John was the one to grip your wrist and pull you out of the elevator, already getting your keys in his suit pocket while you trip and giggle following behind him.

“I’m so excited–”

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Are you kidding? I’m about to get fucked by my boyfriend for the first time in our relationship, of course I’m excited.”

Once John opened the door, he pushed you inside in no time and slammed it behind him. “Who said anything about fucking you?”

“What?” You pouted, growing confused. 

“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you don’t deserve my cock?”

And instantly, you flushed at the words that came out of his mouth that you couldn’t reply anything other than a gasp when he launched himself forward and pressed his lips to you. His beard tickled your chin as his hands went behind your thighs, lifting you off the floor and wrapped your legs around his body.

“I was holding myself back for so long, I was doing so well, I was waiting for the moment to fuck you in a bed of roses like you deserve, but that guy just had to come in and ruin all my self control,” John said against your mouth, pressing his hard cock in his pants against your already wet cunt as he slammed you against the wall.

“I d–don’t want a bed of roses anyways,” you breathed, moaning at the feeling of his hot, throbbing crotch against your own, wanting nothing but to just pull it out and shove it inside you and ride him all night long, but it seemed like John had another idea of how the night would go. “Please, John, just–just fuck me, come on, I know you want to–”

“I don’t like how that guy was looking at you earlier. Like you were some piece of meat,” he nipped at your neck, you felt another wave of wetness drip out of you just from his voice. “Just want to mark you up, bruise your neck and body just so everyone would know you’re fucking mine–”

“Oh god–”

And that’s how you found yourself with legs spread on the bed with John between them. His right hand was around your throat, his other was gripping your hair hard, and his cock was pounding in and out of you like there was no tomorrow.

He’s so fucking big – so huge, so large, Jesus Christ – and you swore you were squealing like a pig. Your cunt was so sloppy and wet, the sound of your wetness squelching around John’s cock was making you so dizzy and lightheaded, not to mention when he was tightening the hand around your throat every few seconds, you were keening and moaning like a whore as you rambled all your dirty thoughts.

“Oh god–oh god, John, please–please, you feel s–so good–” you moaned, nails digging at his back as the bedpost slammed against the wall with each thrust. “Wanted–wanted this for s–so long. So big and huge and–fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” John commented, letting his eyes wander between your bodies as he watched his thick cock plummeling inside your tight little cunt, clit puffy and sore from him sloppily eating you out earlier and he couldn’t be any more proud. You were so sensitive and reactive, every touch delivered a noise out of you. “Cum on my cock, princess. Make a mess all over my dick and I’ll fill you up so deep you’ll feel me until the next week.”

That was the line that threw you over the edge. Head thrown back and screaming, you held onto his back as you came around his cock, knowing the night was only just beginning.

[bahrtofane]

flics and feelings

your job becomes exponentially harder when jude comes into the picture. Literally.

jude x wc!photographer

Word count : 3.2K+

Watch it : suggestive language, skinny dipping, light angst but happy ending !!

Hope you enjoy <3 !!

—--

You're a sports photographer who's just been added to the list of the england national team. Not just for friendlies no no, you're going to the world cup.

You've done a few things here and there for them during friendlies and public appearances and the hard work has seemed to pay off ! 

You can't stop smiling and bouncing around from pure joy after you open the email informing you. This is the chance, the opportunity, the place and time to really make a name for yourself and put your foot out there in the market and world.

You truly believe that this is your calling. It does help that the team isn't bad eye candy either. You'd be blind to argue with that. But nonetheless you must stay professional !

—--

Your professionalism goes down the drain thanks to one very hands, flirty, and mouthy Jude Bellingham. 

It's his fault really. 

It started as nothing more but curiosity to look at the raw pictures you took of him at training. That soon escalated to teasing words, and hands straying away from your camera and to your own. 

He had kissed you for the first time after the first game, under the cover of the locker room long after most people had gone. Gently taking your face in his hands and giving your lips a kiss so tender you wonder if it was even real sometimes.

You're playing a risky game now, you know. But his smile is worth every moment. And besides, your boss has been complimenting your shots lately. Calling them a “raw glimpse into the truth of bellingham.” Whatever that means.

To be honest you don't really know where this new found relationship even stands, fleeting or otherwise you don't have the guts to challenge it in fear of losing him too soon. 

—--

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep

You groan, stretching meekly to find the source of whatever is ruining your sleep, and in the process elbow Jude in the stomach. 

“Ah, sorry baby.” You rasp, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. 

He stifles a groan, looking up at you meekly. “ ‘S okay, just ‘m alarm,'' Flopping back into his face dramatically. 

You sigh, lying back down. That means you also have to get up and ready soon. The suns not even out yet but you have to be ? Unbelievable, truly. 

You spend the little time you have scrolling through social media and answering emails while Jude sleeps soundly next to you as cozy as ever. 

When his second alarm goes off, you give him gentle kisses to the tips of his cheeks and nose to help him wake up. But all you get is him dragging you back down into the covers with him. 

'Little more..” He babbles hanging into you and any covers he can reach. 

You flick his arm gently, “We have to get going, especially you, don't want Saka beating you out there again?”

He gets up at this and narrows his eyes at you, “I think you've taken a fancy to him more than me now.”

You chuckle, “Uh huh, sure. It's his bed I'm in right now right ?’

He opens his mouth to argue but settles for getting out of bed and sulking to the bathroom. 

You take this as a sign to get ready yourself. Getting dressed and making a metal note for the equipment you'll need to grab from your own room. 

Jude walks out of the bathroom toothbrush hanging from his mouth and motions for your turn, giving your hip a little squeeze as you walk by. 

He's all dressed, save for the toothbrush, by the time you walk out. Ducking back into the bathroom when you're done. You take a moment to appreciate him, so pretty. 

“You look good.” You smile.

“Thank you love,” He leans in to give you a quick peck, “ i'll see you later yeah?”

You nod watching him leave. 

—--

You come back to find him nowhere to be seen, but you have more than enough pictures to make the whole photo team happy for a year. You spend the rest of the night editing them and sending them off to your list of clientele. Mainly online papers and twitter if you're being honest, but hey it gets the job done and keeps you fed.  

You wonder just how far England will go, just how long you can pretend to have Jude in these fleeting moments you share thousands of miles away from home. 

The door opens as you're knee deep in emails to reveal one very bouncy Jude. 

“What's got you in such a good mood ?”

“You.” He grins.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm , you looked really good today.”

“Oh please, all I was doing was crouching on the side lines and sweating.”

“And yet you looked so hot doing it.” he pokes your side.

You roll your eyes and him, swatting his hand away and turning your focus back to emails on emails on emails. He plops himself down next to you, kicking his shoes off and wiggling dramatically. 

“I wanna show you something when you're done.” He blurts. 

That's all the motivation you need to speed through all your work for tonight.

He takes your hand in his, against your harsh whispers that someone might see, he doesn't care one bit. Only dragging you along more dramatically.

He takes you down hallways and loops of the hotel you haven't been able to get to yet, up a short spiral staircase to a single elevator that doubt will fit the both of you. But he makes it work. Pressing you up to his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He's so warm, radiating more heat than a damn fireplace, but it feels nice against the brisk hotel ac. He tilts his head while staring at your lips, and you've come to know exactly what he wants. You give it to him. How could you not. 

You bring your faces together, a hand on the back of his neck, to pull him impossibly close to you. He always lets you set the pace, plush lips hesitating before opening enough to meet your tongue. 

Too bad the elevator ding interrupts, he's blushing now, you can see and feel the heat radiating from his face as he hastily pulls away. 

But he still finds the courage to pull you out of the tiny elevator gingerly, leading you to what you think is the hotel rooftop. It's gorgeous, honestly. Small patio like area with white couches and chairs facing an electric dome fireplace.  A small swimming pool in the far corner overlooking the city, and a blanket layed out in the artificial grass. Pillows, snacks and all. 

You’re silent for a moment trying to figure this out, figure him out. 

He takes your hand in his, gently leading you to the blanket before you can over think any longer. Letting you sit down and looking at you with too much fondness than you can handle. 

“I don't…” You begin.

He only smiles at you, “I wanted to spend time with you. Proper time that's not in my hotel room or behind the locker room.”

You can only stare at him in disbelief. You can't remember the last time anyone let alone a man, and one you were romantically interested in, doing something so sweet for you. 

Your voice fails you, as well as basic thinking it seems as you launch yourself at him. Smothering not only Jude but the chips in between you. He only lets out giggles when his back hits the ground, letting you do as you please while rubbing your back.

“Thank you so much, really. It means a lot.” You finally choke out.

He gets up immediately, taking you by the shoulders and staring right at you. “Don't do that. Don't cry. Please.”

Your bottom lip only wobbles harder as you try to hold back the tears, but they come all too soon as you sniffle. “ ‘M not sad. Really happy. You make me happy.” You mumble, head now smushed on his shoulder.

“Hey it's okay, take your time love, we've got all night.” 

And all night you do have. By the time your tears have dried Jude makes you try every single snack and little treat he hauled up here. 

You notice a pile of towels sitting at the edge of one of the pool chairs and raise an eyebrow, “What are those for?”

“In case, you wanna swim.” He shrugs face full of chewy gummies. Sugar free fat free everything free it seems. Nutritions orders. 

“Can we ?” You turn to him expectedly.

“Why not.” He smiles.

You don't take a second longer, taking off your shoes and other accessories. Tip toeing at the edge of the pool before his voice stops you.

“You're gonna swim in those ?”

“Im mean yeah. I didn't bring a change.”

He only shrugs, wiggling out of his own clothes faster than you can stop him. “What are you doing?’ You hiss 

“Uh swimming ?”

“Naked ??”

“Not like it's anything you haven't seen before.” He bumps your shoulder with his, giggling. 

“You're unbelievable. What if someone sees?”

He shrugs, getting in the pool. “Oh they won't, I got that covered with hotel staff already. No ones gonna bother us up here.”

He turns to you after the water is up to his navel, motioning with a hand for you to join. 

Really the problem isn't the situation at hand, skinny dipping seems like great fun really, the problem lies with the man who you're in this predicament with. He's all but invaded your heart and mind at this point. He's just, so, everything you've ever wanted and more. Sweet smiles and even sweeter words, teasing but still kind, always making room for you in his life. During the goddamn world cup of all things. Hard working to his core.

The way he looks at you while you tell him the most mundane things about your day makes your head spin, the care he takes into looking out for you is unmatched by anyone. You are so gone for him

He gives you a concerned look, “You don't have to really it's no pressure we can-”

Fuck it.

You toss your clothes to the side faster than you can change your mind about it and slide your way into the freezing water

“It’s fucking freezing what the hell.“

He only strides closer to you, gently lacing your hands together and pulling you further in, where the water now comes to your collar bones.

“I got you” He murmurs.

You shiver and shake at the water, ”M still cold.”

But he only presses himself impossible close to under the water

“Well, let me warm you up then” He barely whispers while your chests are flush together, his hands on either side of your face. 

Gently bringing your lips together once more.

—--

Once the two of you have had more than enough fun trying to drown each other he swaddles you up in big fluffy towels and lays down next to you on the blanket, star gazing. 

“See, that one's Orion.” He breathes out into the night air.

You hum, burying your face where a bit of his shoulder peaks from his towel. It's warm okay. When you yawn for the third time in a row does he bring up heading back down. 

“You've had a long day, come on.” He nudges your arm. 

You give in, groaning, getting up reluctantly and putting your clothes back on. He tidies up while you tussle with your shoes for a second before joining you at the foot of the elevator. The ride down is a comfortable silence and you swing your joined hands while you walk back to your room.

The moment you step into the room do you collapse into the bed, completely drained. He still makes you get up for a quick shower to rinse the chlorine off. Letting you get into bed first while he does the same after.

You're halfway to dreamland when you feel the bed dip and his familiar warmth envelop you. A gentle kiss on the forehead is the last thing you remember before crashing soundly.

—--

Jude won't admit it but he's definitely started favoring your side more often during games. Whenever there's a celebration he always looks over to you. You try not to make it too obvious and just hunker down, shove your camera in your face and think of something odd to keep you from smiling. 

Your go to recently has been imagining Klopp with fingers for hair. Bizarre. 

It all ends too soon when England gets knocked out by France. 

You can see the disappointment and anger in him. 

“I really thought we had a chance.” He mumbles into your neck later that night.

“Hey it's okay, what's done is done. No use stressing out on the past when there's so much future in front of you.” You try to comfort him.

He sniffles and shrugs. Not wanting to say more. You're set to leave in a day. Then what ?

He begs you to stay, “Just one more night, please.”

Just one more then, one more and you go back to the redundant life you lived before all of this. Before you even felt him utter bliss on your skin. You wonder what his type really is, what are the people he chooses to truly make his. What kind of lovers would move mountains for and shout sappy poetry from the rooftops just to see them smile.

You suppose you should be happy to even have this kind of encounter. Count your blessings, cant have your cake and eat it, blah blah blah. You want him. Now and forever more. 

You don't say any of this, instead choosing to hold his hand gently while he curls up next to you. 

—--

The day the team is set to leave you dont see much of him really. You're too busy counting and recounting all your supplies and making sure you have all the right paperwork for the very heavy and very expensive equipment you're about to embark with.

You have about a week before you're off to Italy for some fancy car races on the coast. You're going to mope and sulk in that time you can feel it. 

You're making your last trip to give the luggage guy your set when you run into Jude. 

“Oh hi, you're leaving already ?”

“Ah no just taking my equipment to the lobby. It always flies before I do.” You try to smile.

He nods, a little solemnly.

“Am I gonna see you at mine later ?’

“Yeah, maybe.”

And with that you take off. You honestly don't expect to ever see him again if not for work. At least this can be a cute story you can tell to friends back home.

—--

Not a cool story at all because you have just realized that you've forgotten your really nice and expensive headphones in his room. Good lord. They were a gift from you to you on your birthday last year when you had a lot of videos to edit and needed to be able to listen to any variation in sound. 

You can not buy those again. 1, the money. 2, you're attached. 

But good god is it going to be awkward just waltzing in there. Maybe you can just ask room service. No to creepy. Text him ? twice as awkward.

Oh fuck, guess going back up to his room it is.

You feel like some stalker creeping around the halls, even though you've been here plenty of times. Now it feels entirely different. Like youre no longer welcome here. But damn do you need your headphones back.

With a deep breath you knock on the door as friendly as a knock can get, and it opens almost immediately. 

“Hi! I'm glad you came.” He beams.

You don't have the heart to tell him it's only for your headphones, you walk in away. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed. You notice everythings been tidied up and organized, there's only his suit cases left standing in the corner. 

He joins you not long after, playing with his fingers idly. Waiting for you to say something, anything. 

“Is something wrong?” He tries.

“No, no, nothing. Just came to say bye and look for my headphones is all.” You mumble. 

He frowns,“There's something up.”

“No.”

“Yes there is. Why else are you acting like you don't know me and you've never been in this room.”

“Because that's what it feels like Jude. We had our little fun and now it's over we go our separate ways.” You have finally reached your tipping point.

He only looks back at you hurt,“Is that what you think this is?”

“Is it not?”

“God no, why would I rent out the roof of this hotel just to stargaze and goof around in the pool with you. Did that mean nothing?”

“It meant everything to me. I told you as much.”

“Then why are you acting like this now?”

“I'm scared. I'm scared when I leave this room and we leave the country. That'll be it. That i’ll never get to have this again.” You whisper.

“Love,” He takes your hand in yours, “I truly want something with you. More than a fling more than a work romance more than whatever you've been thinking of it as. I’ll book a flight to meet you when you land right now if you want. Just say the word.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course. I'm serious. You said it yourself no use stressing over the past when there's so much future. And I want you to be my future. If you'll have me.” He gives you a small smile. 

“Of course i'll have you Jude. You're so incredible I can't even put it into words. I want a future that has an us, I want you to be mine as much as I'll be yours.”

This time it's he who rushes to tackle you into the bed, bombarding your face in kisses while you squeak and give soft punches to his arms in a futile attempt to get him off. 

He finally does and rushes to fish his laptop out of his suitcase, immediately going to his flight information and adding a connecting flight faster than you've seen most people function. 

In the time it takes for him to find his passport you find your headphones, neatly tucked away in the bedside drawer. That makes a lot of sense.

You lean on his shoulder watching the last bit of information go in before he clicks confirm, looking up to smile at you. 

“I'll see you when I land in your city then ?” 

“Yes you will pretty boy.” You murmur, with one final kiss goodbye. Or more a see you soon kiss.

You walk out of the room not only with your fancy headphones but a lovely man to call your own.

[slxtarchive]

𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. where sam was there to help y/n when she had a rough day and resorted to unwinding in a not-so-healthy way.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. okay so i was just thinking for a sam golbach fic reader relapses (self harm) cuz their mind has been getting too much lately, and maybe sam helps them clean up and then helps take care of them and makes them feel loved nd just like lets them know that they don't need to do that because he's there from now on?? if that makes sense. also maybe not an established romantic relationship but maybe it ends up that way? like sam tells reader he doesn't know what he'd do with himself if anything happened to them he just cares a lot about them and yeah

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! third person pov, talks of self harm, relapsing, descriptive literature, friend!sam, friends to lovers.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. if anybody needs anyone to talk to i’m here! 🤍 sorry this took so long to post & write! this one hit really personal for me but id okay to say ive healed & im continuing to heal from my past. if anyone is going through similar hardships, you can get through it! i believe, love, & support you always.

y/n told herself she wouldn’t put herself in this position again. she wouldn’t.. but sometimes things don’t go as planned.

she had tried to stay strong, to stop letting her mind control every action she took; it just became too much. she sat on the cold tile floor of her bathroom, tears making their way down her flushed face. she gripped the item as she took the first swipe, lightly but firm enough.

just stop. she told herself. her hand shook as she went to repeat the action. she looked at her skin i just need to feel something, she thought. something other than what im feeling now.

she had been doing so good but somehow found herself back at square one. all that work that she had done was all gone. she felt hopeless, as if this never ending black hole of despair would stay with her for the rest of her life.

she took a minute to think on her life and what could have went wrong to cause her to relapse. all those thoughts had no specific effect on relapsing, its just her brain had begun to spin a web that caused her to get stuck in her head all day. what else can i do? she thought as she took another swipe at her skin. she planned on continuing until she heard her bedroom door open.

her heart dropped to her ass. “y/n..?” the voice had confusion laced in their voice.

sam.

it was sam.

the blonde boy was one of the things that y/n had in her life that truly made her happy. he was her best friend. she never told him that but she truly meant that with every fiber of her being.

y/n quickly wiped her tears when she heard the footsteps come closer to the bathroom. wiping the tears would make the tear stains disappear but the thing about breaking down, you’re left with that struggle of trying to catch your breath.

she couldn’t stop gasping, trying to breathe calm and collectively. that’s why as sam stopped right beside the bathroom. he heard a small gasp escape her lips that caught his attention.

his eyebrows raised in confusion. he put his head beside the door trying to hear something else. “uh.. y/n? you in there?” he knocked. he received no answer. multiple questions and thoughts ran through his mind before he opened the door.

sam had seen many things in his life, traumatic even, but this — it was like his heart had jumped, dropped, did a tumble, and self destructed all in the span of 3 seconds. he instantly became nauseous at the sight of y/n holding a blade to her forearm. the small cuts that had caught his eye before she covered her arm and hid the blade had his blood run cold.!

the second y/n had been caught she felt guilty and embarrassed. she felt pathetic, like she wasn’t strong enough to handle the hard reality of the real world. immediately, she stood up and faced sam. “i-im sorry you weren’t supposed to see that.. it’s not what it looks like.” she sniffled trying to contain her tears. “i… it just, lately everything has been so crazy and i haven’t … i haven’t done this in a while but… but everything has just been… too much.” she rambled out, trying to explain herself.

sam’s face of confusion faltered. he thought about her words. the way she mentioned in a while had him wondering what caused her to relapse and fall back into this situation. he scanned her face. she’s too pure to be suffering like this. he paused thinking of what to say but truly all that he wanted to do was give her a hug. so that’s what he did.

he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her protectively. she melted into his touch. her lip quivered as she wrapped her own arms around him. her body shook as more tears cascaded down her face.

sam felt his own eyes sting with tears. “i’m sorry.” he choked up. “i’m sorry you’ve been going through all of this alone.” he rested his cheek on her head closing his eyes trying to stay strong for her.

y/n hasn’t said anything, still feeling guilty. sam pulled away and looked down at the floor seeing the blade and a tissue beside it. he picked them up and threw both away.

he turned back to y/n who had a tired look on her face. “as long as i’m here nothing will hurt you, okay? i will be here for you. you can depend on me. you don’t need to do this anymore to yourself y/n, i won’t let you.” he took her face into his hands. “i promise, i love you and im always here for you no matter what.”

y/n’s heart raced as sam’s words really effected her. she nodded pursing her lips and biting her cheek.

he brought her head to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. “i mean it y/n. i don’t know what i’d do with myself without you. you complete me.”

y/n’s eyes scanned sam’s face noticing how his own eyes began to water and become puffy. the scene before her causing her throat to close. “m’sorry i promise i wont do it anymore. i love you sam and… fuck — i know i shouldn’t be doing that. i just didn’t know what else to do.” she leaned against his chest.

“i know, i know baby but from now on you can talk to me about it. about anything. i care so much about you. you truly have no idea how much i…” he stopped himself not wanting to overwhelm her. “just know you mean the world to me. you are and have been my priority since we met and that’s never going to change.” the reassuring words causing y/n to relax.

y/n started to get inside her head, wondering what if he got tired of her, if he’d leave her, what she’d do or how she’d feel if that happened — or even worse; if she would be a burden to sam.

sam noticed y/n zoning out. “hey, tell me what you’re thinking please.” his hands reached down to grab her own.

she took a deep breath. c’mon y/n. she blinked a couple times trying to sort her thoughts. “don’t wanna be a burden to you.” she admitted to which sam immediately shook his head.

sam brought her hands to his mouth kissing her knuckles. “you could never ever be a burden to me. you keep me pushing through every day because i want to be the best for you. to be the best friend you deserve and… and whatever the future may hold for us — i want you there always, okay? don’t ever forget that.”

his words wavered through the air and stood there so you could process what he truly meant. you thought on it, picking up some hidden message that you’d both communicate about later but as of now, he truly helped you feel understood and seen. as long as you had him you’d feel physically, mentally, and emotionally secure and protected.

© slxtarchive

[veryberryjelly]

humour me

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

cw : fainting, mentions of previous ed, 1 use of y/n [ im sorry ]

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭��𝐨𝐧

the bear could be the most chaotic place on the planet.

especially as a server, it was inescapable.

going back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, two stressful locations that you continually switched between.

it could sometimes be quite dizzying. especially when you hadn't stopped to eat anything all day.

this morning when you left your apartment you just thought you'd grab something on your way out the door, but you didnt.

then you just put the thought of eating out of your head for the rest of the day.

old habits die hard.

when you arrived at the bear, there wasnt a moment to stop and think about it again.

but suddenly it was like every yell for service was being called underwater.

you had to focus really hard on trying to get everything out to the tables in one piece.

but on one trip back to the kitchen, your pale face and slow steps caught the attention of carmen as he made a trip to the fridge.

" hey, you okay ?" he questioned, ignoring the fact that he definitely had a lot more pressing things to do than to check on you.

his question, while simple, took a long time for your brain to register.

logically you knew he had asked you something, but you couldn't figure out what it was or how to answer it.

before your brain could catch up to the real world, everything went dark.

the last thing you recalled was a pair of hands on your waist.

you expected to rouse to the feeling of cold tile against your cheek, but instead it was a scratchy fabric you didnt recognise.

the light wasnt fluorescent, rather warm and coming from across the room as opposed to the ceiling.

as the room came in to focus, as did a figure sat across from you.

carmen.

you weren't sure if this was going to be a pleasant interaction or not, though the slight fondness you recognised in carmen's eyes gave you hope.

he said nothing, instead just standing from his chair and offering you a glass of water.

you moved to sit up on the couch, taking the water from him and taking a few sips as he sat down on the other end of the couch.

he waited until you stopped sipping at the water until he spoke up.

" what the hell happened ? " he questioned, clearly wanting to know why you had just collapsed in the kitchen.

" probably just got a bit hot. " you didnt really feel like telling him you hadn't eaten today, or yesterday now that you thought about it.

" it's 40 degrees outside " he countered, to which you didnt really have an answer. " is everything okay ? "

you figured this might be coming. carmen was one of the few people who knew about your previous issues with food, so it was understandable that he was worried you had fallen back into old patterns.

" everything's fine, carm. i just havent eaten today. that's it. " you tried to brush it off as though it was nothing, but from the way carmen was looking at you, he wasnt letting you off that easy.

you reached over and took one of his tattooed hands in yours, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

" i promise, i'm good. i'll grab some food at home. "

" let me make you something here "

" you don't have to do that carm, i'm f- "

" humour me " he cut you off and you couldnt say no to him.

[darsynia]

Forgiven: joYOUs | CEO Steve/f!Reader series Part III

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | Ro Roll | Prev Fic

Summary: You and Steve Rogers have been dating for a little over two months, and it's been wonderful. Through it all you've asked yourself if it could possibly be real--but when he finally invites you to stay over at his apartment, you realize that being 'real' has as much to do with his complicated issues at work as it does being a Hallmark movie protagonist brought to life.

WC/Warnings: 5,200 // explicit sex

As 6/7 of my Ro Roll badly-belated-birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, joYOUs is part III in my CEO Steve and f!Freader series. This story also (more lightly than intended) is written for the 'first fall of snow' prompt for @the-slumberparty's December Daze!

Can be read standalone!

Excerpt:

“I have a confession to make,” Steve says in an apologetic tone.

Your mind springs to swift and miserable action: Somehow his good guy persona is a sham and he’s actually a real-life Christian Grey (honestly, you’d try it). This is all a bet and your naive honesty is embarrassing (horrifyingly plausible)...

Steve says, “--happened to it, I have no idea what, but the food’s ruined. We’re going to have to get take-out.”

His warm apologetic tone heats your fears into float-away steam, and you rush to reconnect with reality. “I’m sorry that happened, but I’m here for you, not your food,” you stammer out, only fully hearing what you’ve said once it’s already out there. “Shit, that came out--”

“--perfectly,” Steve laughs.

Joyous

You’ve tried not to read anything into the 36 hours of no-contact since Steve left on his business trip. He had warned you that he would be ‘can’t check the phone’ kind of busy, but you also know that his stress has ramped up considerably with the holidays coming up. You suspect that the café project hadn’t been enough of a respite--but you’d promised yourself not to push him too hard about his burnout, and that includes acting like it’s no big deal that you haven’t talked for a while. 

Just normal early relationship stuff, really.

That all drops away like an uncomfortable bra after a long day at work when you get a text at 10 PM Friday night.

🪴🪴🪴: We still on for tomorrow at 7? I’ve been thinking about you since the plane took off from LaGuardia.

🪴🪴🪴: Whoops i

🪴🪴🪴: was only supposed to send that first part.

🪴🪴🪴: Hit enter too e

🪴🪴🪴: Buck give me back the phone. Don’t send her anything, okay? You’re hopeless, man. You have to leave some mystery. If she had any idea how much you talked about her while we were gone, she’d probably quit her job and leave the state. What’s. Oh shit it’s recording. How do I make it. Give it back. Bucky I mean it just put it down before you screwdriver

Screwdriver?

The (thrilling) mess of words take a minute or two to detangle, and once you parse the dictated back-and-forth, you realize that Steve’s subsequent silence is probably mortification. Adorable mortification.

The phone rings on silent mode, buzzing wildly in your hand. Surprise makes you drop it on your lap like it’s alive-- which it might as well be, because the vibration sends it jittering across your indulgent silk pajamas and onto the floor.

“Shit!” you gasp out, knowing that any delay in answering will probably make everything much worse. You scramble off the bed in a move so inelegant your sister calls out asking if you’ve joined her in Broken Leg Land. “I’m fine, just an idiot!” you holler, finally grabbing the phone from your crumpled position on the bedroom floor.

“That’s not true at all!” Steve Rogers’ voice echoes from the speakers. You must have  brushed the ‘answer’ part when you picked it up, because of course that would happen.

“Oh my god, is there a deity of phones I’ve badly wronged today?” you gasp out, bringing the thing gingerly up to your ear. Thankfully, he’s chuckling, and damn, it’s sexy.

“Seems like it. Should we call this a draw?” he suggests, adding, “I evicted the phone thief, sorry about that. He just wants what’s best for me.”

“Which would be… screwdrivers?” you offer, grinning despite your rational brain screaming at you not to sound overeager. “You somehow don’t strike me as an orange juice and vodka kind of guy.”

“You’re right, and that was a nice deflect.” There’s gratitude as well as sheepishness in Steve’s voice. When paired with the ‘forbidden truths’ in the dictated texts, you may be sitting on the floor in twisted-up PJs, but your mind and heart are floating on a cloud somewhere high above Manhattan. “Should I send a car tomorrow?”

Surprise snarls the response in your throat into a twisted um-cough combo that is entirely indelicate. “Sorry, yes, that, yes,” you manage, kicking yourself. He runs a company, having a car service probably doesn’t seem impersonal to him, even though he’s always picked you up or met you somewhere before this. The Maiden Aunt in your brain tries to argue that the magic is over, but she’s drowned out by College TA, who thinks this is a step up in statistical importance.

Some girls get a devil on their shoulder, but you ended up with a pessimist and an overachiever.

“How about a do-over,” Steve says, interrupting your mental chaos. “Can I pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yes!” you say in a flood of relief. “I’m sorry, you said ‘send a car’ and all I could picture was one of those movies where someone in livery holds up a piece of paper with my name--”

He interrupts before you can gnaw past the foot in your mouth and up onto the ankle.

“I don’t mind driving, don’t worry. See you at seven, then.” With that, CEO Eye, Ear, and Heart Candy hangs up, leaving you in a flustered, anticipatory mess on the floor in your bedroom.

Jennie gives you relentless shit over that whole sequence of events, but she also gives you access to her closet. You’ve already run through your handful of fancy dresses on dates with Steve, and everything else gives you ‘someday I might go clubbing’ or ‘student on a budget’ vibes.

Your sister’s tastes run more expensive than yours, and she’s always been a fan of modular clothing-- skirts that wrap around, blouses with 3x as much fabric as necessary that end up folding and twisting into a masterpiece, etc. It’s worked out well for her while she’s laid up with a broken leg, but the unusual style might help you keep up appearances. You choose a black form-fitting pants topped with a silky wraparound blouse; hopefully they’ll look sophisticated enough for your first visit to Steve’s apartment.

True to form, Jennie makes three ‘wrapped present’ jokes about the two ribbon-tied sections of your shirt before you make it out the door.

Steve is waiting beside his car when you come outside. He’s clearly come from work, wearing tailored trousers and a crisp white shirt that looks so good you’re practically overheating in the brisk winter air. Then he smiles at you, and your body takes a detour from ‘visit to Arizona’ straight down to ‘the Brazilian Rainforest,’ all innuendo included.

Oblivious to your secretly disrespectful ogling, Steve moves to escort you to your car door, standing deliciously close by as he opens it. His aftershave smells heady and masculine, distracting enough that you turn your heel a little bit on the seam of the sidewalk. Your unbuttoned coat swings back and his hand moves to steady you, fingers tangling in the red ribbon holding your blouse together on that side.

“Oh!” you gasp, half because of his sheer strength and half because good god, if that bow comes undone on the street you’re not sure how much you’re even going to care right now. You gently grasp his hand (finding that, yep, the sizzling live wire connection on physical contact is still active), salvaging the knot for the sake of your sanity.

“Wow,” Steve breathes in a low voice that sends its resonance whizzing through your whole body. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmur intelligently.

You’re never going to tell your sister how many mental seconds it’s taken you to go from 0 to head over heels for this man.

“Do you need me to adjust the buckle? You were making a face,” Steve explains.

“Oh, no, I was coming up with something suitably embarrassing to text my nagging sister so she doesn’t send me ‘romantic suggestions’ all night,” you admit. “She means well, but I think she’s been watching too many Hallmark Christmas movies. Nothing I do or say will measure up!”

He chuckles. “I won’t comment on what my own nag might have to say on the outcome of the evening.”

“You mean the professional phone thief? He owes you, not the other way around! Telling secrets on dictation while your friend’s planning to bring a girl home-- and then sending it? Hung, drawn, and quartered.”

“Well, the method of delivery may have been terrible,” Steve says, looking over at you while paused at a red light, “--but none of that was a secret.”

The light changes, and just like Jennie’s favorite movies, he holds your gaze instead of driving on. You’re suddenly very aware of everywhere your clothing touches you, especially at your chest, where the fabric of your blouse clings to your curves. When you pull in a breath, Steve’s attention dips down to appreciate them, too.

“Eyes on the road, CEO Eye Candy,” you tease (not for the first time), and his expression scrunches up into easy laughter.

There’s an older, well-dressed couple in the parking garage to his building when you arrive, and the four of you ride the elevator up together until you and Steve step out. Just before the doors close, you catch the woman looking up at her husband fondly, nodding toward the two of you. No pressure! you think to yourself again, but then Steve opens the door to his apartment and smiles with such honest happiness that you forget everything else but him.

Just like he is, the main room is a charming mix of vintage and modern, with warm wood accents and high-tech amenities. There’s something both open and intimate that hits you right away; the floor is dotted with comforting rugs, the walls with bookcases, creating cozy little nooks, but the lamplight is warm and inviting throughout.

“I need to start the oven,” Steve says with a light touch to your arm, gesturing to take your coat. You nod and hand it over before you step farther in, finally letting yourself glance beyond the bookshelves of classics and the homey crochet afghan to the view. 

It’s completely captivating. The wall of windows face east, showing the lively cityscape to glorious effect (and you can’t help but picture what the sunrise would look like!). It suddenly hits you that you’re in Steve’s space. There are no phones to ring and save you from a misstep, no waitress to break the tension, no dog running past chasing its ball in the grass.

If he sees just how far gone you are on him already, will Steve think you’re a gold-digger, or will he understand that you can’t help but be dazzled and drawn in by the kind of man he is, not the things he surrounds himself with?

“Are you all right?” Steve asks. You startle, making eye contact with his reflection in the window, and something about the intimacy of that makes you tell the absolute truth.

“I’m realizing there are no flowerpots to hide behind.”

He smiles and moves closer, one hand casually in his pocket. When he’s just near enough that you can feel his warmth through the back of your blouse, Steve tips his head in a move that bleeds sincerity, still holding your gaze.

“What if you didn’t have to hide?”

You can’t look away. “What if that doesn’t make me any less shy?”

“Makes it all the more rewarding to earn that smile of yours,” Steve says, moving to face you instead of the view.

The weight of where you are, who you’re with, and how much it means to you keeps your gaze glued to the view outside the window, but the city lights blur a little with the frequency of your blinking. You want to reassure him that the shyness is good actually, that it means you really like him, that what he thinks about you is important--

“I have a confession to make,” Steve says in an apologetic tone.

Your mind springs to swift and miserable action: Somehow his good guy persona is a sham and he’s actually a real-life Christian Grey (honestly, you’d try it). This is all a bet and your naive honesty is embarrassing (horrifyingly plausible)...

Steve says, “--happened to it, I have no idea what, but the food’s ruined. We’re going to have to get take-out.”

His warm apologetic tone heats your fears into float-away steam, and you rush to reconnect with reality. “I’m sorry that happened, but I’m here for you, not your food,” you stammer out, only fully hearing what you’ve said once it’s already out there. “Shit, that came out--”

“--perfectly,” Steve laughs. You can’t help but toss him the Skeptical Eyebrow, despite your heart voting on the ‘melt’ option. “I’m being serious,” he goes on. “Honesty is in rare supply for much of my day-to-day. Suppliers expect us to push for cheaper materials, manufacturers are uncomfortable with flexible deadlines, and we’ve fired multiple product designers who get upset by how much we rely on end-user feedback.” He lets out a long sigh, punctuating it with a rueful laugh. “I felt more relaxed with the construction crew than I do with my so-called ‘peers.’”

The frustrated defeat in his tone makes you step close to tuck yourself up against his side, hugging him with an arm around his back. Steve’s arm comes around you right away, and god, you wish you could bottle that feeling. The two of you have shared quite a few toe-curling kisses, but physical affection like this is exciting, despite being prompted by Steve’s ongoing business concerns.

It’s easy to believe that this part of your life isn’t real when you’re at work answering phones and giving directions. You’re never prepared for the way Steve tips your life upside down, and in a way that makes moments like this more magical. Late at night, you do sometimes worry your job at his company makes it harder for him to disconnect.

With his heartbeat thrumming under your cheek and his arm tucked around you, that concern feels as far away as the streetlights visible across the city. There’s still a thread of tenseness in his embrace that tells you he’s not as relaxed as you are. You might not have the money to take him out for a fancy dinner or attend an exclusive event, but you can show him he’s wanted.

“So what you’re saying is that we should brainstorm another building project for the lobby? Preferably within sightlines of the front desk?”

You get to feel his laugh before you hear it.

“Oh, I wish. I’ve actually started looking into Habitat For Humanity, a couple of other hands-on charities,” Steve tells you, squeezing you tighter against him for a second or two. “They’ve got experience with higher profile contributors, safety concerns, that sort of thing.”

The moment hangs. Humor isn’t enough.

“That doesn’t solve the underlying problem though, because the problem isn’t you,” you realize aloud.

“You’re right.” Steve kisses your hairline, but you can sense that his metaphorically held breath isn’t going to release like this. You’re struck by the rightness of your reflection; the two of you fit together so well visually that it’s easy to miss his job insecurities and your uncertain future. Movement beyond the surface catches your eye, and you realize it’s the perfect way to break the tension.

“Oh! It’s snowing!”

“Those are some giant snowflakes.” He hugs you to him briefly before stepping over to a small panel on the wall. “May I?”

The more time you spend with him, the braver you feel. “I’m going to say yes, even though I don’t know what you’re asking.”

Steve’s answering smile is blindingly handsome. “Watch,” he says, nodding to the view. A second later the lights in the room dim or shut off, heightening the glowing cityscape outside. There’s a beauty to the familiar hodgepodge of buildings, more so with the fairy dust of snow drifting down from above.

“It’s like a snowglobe,” you say, tearing your eyes away from the scene to look at Steve. To your surprise, he’s not looking outside, he’s looking at you.

“May I?” he asks again. Heart pounding, you nod, and he walks toward you, his features thrown into sharp relief by the dim light. When Steve finally reaches you, the anticipation has doused you with fuel set alight by the touch of his hand at your cheek. 

This kiss is nothing like the gentle exploration that was your first with Steve. Where then you were still learning each other, this is knowledge. He lifts you up against him effortlessly, his thumb tangling with the ties of your blouse in a way that pulls it taut against your breasts. You let out a gasp as he kisses his way down from your neck over to the neckline of your blouse, making a begging sound of his own.

It sounds like enough of a ‘May I?’ that you whisper, “Yes.”

In three large strides he’s at the couch, setting you onto your feet as he sweeps the afghan and pillows out of the way. When he turns to face you again, you offer him the end of the ribbon tie holding your blouse together.

The reverence with which Steve pulls it loose is sexy as hell, but you absolutely adore the way he locks eyes with you and keeps your gaze when the fabric falls away. You pull in a ragged breath, and his gaze sharpens.

“What do you want?” he asks, his own answer ringing in the undertones.

You want everything, as far into the future as fate allows, but you force yourself to focus on the here and now. “I-- God, I just want you. I want-- oh!” You press your lips together to stop yourself, shy again. There’s honesty, and then there’s honesty. In that confident but gentle way he has, Steve knows exactly what to say.

“Whatever it is, yes.”

He takes your hand and backs the few inches to the couch, sitting down and tugging gently, a clear but respectful invitation. Steve takes a few seconds to just look at you, his eyes tracing across your features and down to the structure of your blouse. He’d mentioned his sketchbook at one of your early-on dates but never elaborated; now the way he unerringly follows each ribbon with his eyes, fingertips, and then lips make you feel like a work of art.

By the time your shirt drops to the floor, you’re practically drunk on the honest arousal you can taste on his lips--and you’re still mostly dressed! One thing you’re certain of: no one will ever make you feel as much like a medieval harlot and an object of worship at the same time like Steve Rogers.

Reluctantly, you draw back from his addictive kisses, pulling his hand from your cheek to briefly kiss his palm. “I’m going to ask you something, and you’re going to answer me without trying to smooth anything over, got it?”

Steve’s gaze darkens with an amused sort of interest. “I’ll see where you’re going with this, but you should know that there are two places I like to be in charge: the boardroom and the bedroom.”

His tone is gentle, but with an undercurrent of steel. You’re completely unable to stop the way your breath catches and your thighs clench. Sweet fires of hell, this man is perfect.

“It’s a deal,” you manage to squeak out.

“Go on, then.” Steve lifts a hand to brush his thumb along your hairline, down your cheek to press against your lips, dragging them open. From there, he continues to where the swell of your breast meets the lace of your bra, skirting your nipple by lifting his hand up to clasp with the other hand behind his head. Throughout, his gaze holds yours, intense and commanding.

“Sure, show me up, like I’m going to remember anything more than my own name, at this point,” you whisper-whine.

“I used it a few times on my recent trip.” His soft admission is in direct contrast to his casual, confident body language. You’re starting to realize there’s a stronger dichotomy to Steve than you thought. Will you get to have the kind, thoughtful boyfriend who saves you from an evening of elitist tedium and a fierce, possessive lover?

Will you survive, if so?

“Tell me. I’m getting a little jealous of whatever it is you’re thinking about,” Steve intones.

You stop biting your lip and grin. “I’m filing away these new pieces of information about you. Just… don’t ask me where I’m filing them.”

“Oh, I will.”

His voice is like a caress that cascades over you, pausing at your most sensitive places. You shiver, both for your own acknowledgment of the sexual tension and for him to appreciate his effect on you. After letting out a breath that’s more like a yearning sigh, you set your hands on the top button of his dress shirt. With Steve’s steady gaze on you, though, you’re questioning yourself.

“My plan sounds stupid in my head now, with you oozing all of this confidence.”

Immediately, his hand covers yours, setting off sparks with every swipe of his thumb on your skin. “At work it’s a facade, a persona, even--and not a flattering one. I didn’t think I could shake it off, the night of the gala. It’s more natural when--” He interrupts himself by pulling you in for a deep, passionate kiss.

“You’re not faking it here,” you observe minutes later. The whole concept is knocking you sideways, but-- “Okay, I need to tell you I’m picturing you in one of those tailored suits commanding a room of powerful people and that is just sexy as hell.”

He rocks his hips up into you. “I’ll let them know--but, roll back a minute. What was your plan? Better yet,” Steve interrupts himself, setting a heavy hand on your hip to hold you still as he grinds up against you again. “Show me.”

His confidence is literally rubbing off on you. “All right, but fair warning: it’s very ‘over-eager receptionist peeks at you between decorative plants.’” As soon as the words are out of your mouth, his warm hand travels from your hip around and down, fingertips pushing aside your waistbands to firmly grip your ass.

“I know exactly who I’m here with.”

There’s enough of the altruistic, spend-a-week-building-with-the-bros tone in his voice to be reassuring, and you nod.

“Right, then.” Briskly, with the heat of arousal singing through you from every point of contact, you unbutton the top button of his dress shirt. “You’re kind.” Button two: “You’re moral and fair.” Your eyes are focused on your ‘work,’ but you can see Steve break into a smile. At button three, you’re almost halfway down. “You’re a hard worker.”

Steve lets out a deep ‘Mmmm’ sound. Thanks to his ass-grab leverage, he blatantly moves your hips in time with his for a cycle of thrusts that leave you breathless. You can’t look at him, so you clear your throat like a prudish schoolmarm and meticulously unbutton #4.

“You’re good at your… job.” It takes a little while to free this button, so you end up worrying your lower lip with your teeth as you try. Once you’re finished, with anticipation lifting every single hair follicle on your body, only then do you make eye contact.

He mutters ‘fuck’ and reaches between the two of you to unbuckle his belt, popping his trouser snap with an expression that challenges you to object.

There are two shirt buttons left.

You’re completely out of your depth, as desperate to come as you may have ever been in your entire existence, and you have zero idea what else to say--but you reach for button number five.

You wet your lips. Slowly.

Steve grips the couch with his free hand-- but the one he’s holding onto you with is still firm and not at all bruising (not that you’d mind. You’ll paint yourself with this man’s passion if he lets you). 

“You’re passionate.”

He makes a cut-off sort of growl in the back of his throat when you move to the last button. You can see the heavy bulge of his cock in his boxer briefs just an inch away from your palms. In a perfect world, you’d say ‘fuck it’ to coming up with another word. In a perfect world, you’d reward both of you by giving up and sliding to your knees, demonstrating exactly how much you appreciate this tall, sexy, beast of an honorable man--and then you have an idea.

Your borrowed pants have a simple clasp, and you move your hands slowly from Steve’s last remaining shirt button to release it, incidentally dragging across his straining cock as you do so. The blatant teasing gets ‘worse’ when you draw down your zipper, nudging, rubbing, and pressing until it’s fully unzipped.

Throughout, Steve’s hand on your ass remains steady, but his breathing grows more and more ragged.

Finally, you lift your hands up and away, denying him any more contact before dropping down to reach for the last button.

“You--” he rumbles, but you interrupt him with two words.

“You’re patient.”

With a practically incomprehensible oath that thoroughly refutes your last impudent compliment, Steve shoves down your loosened clothing and angles the two of you to the side on the couch, all in a single action. Then he sinks two fingers inside you roughly, both of you groaning at the desperate, glorious pleasure of it.

You cram a fist in your mouth, but he stops in the middle of his one-handed shucking of his pants and boxers to yank your fist free.

“All through that shitty conference I imagined the noises you’d make tonight,” Steve grits out, looking down at you with naked desire in his eyes. He twists his fingers mid thrust, and you can’t help but cry out, your hips chasing every movement his talented, devastating fingers perform on you.

You’re already so close. The white-hot, catastrophic release starts to cloud your vision, stayed only by your delayed understanding of what he just said.

“Wait, you’re saying during the--”

Steve kicks the last inches of his lower clothing free and swaps hands deftly, spreading your arousal on his cock with an ‘Mmmm’ of pleasure so filthy you flutter around his fingers in pre-orgasmic shock.

“Thinking about you genuinely kept me sane, and I'm going to turn those daydreams into reality,” he rasps, a modern Greek god with the morals of a saint and the body of a satyr, as if you could ever do anything but gratefully worship him.

You mouth something like the word “Yes,” too desperate for anything more coherent.

The pleasure that follows his first deep thrust is ruinous. You forget everything but Steve, the taste of praise on his lips, the delight his touch chases across your skin, and most of all, the power he arches into you, music and mayhem and meaning, all at once. By the time you’re shuddering around each other you’ve ended up on the floor in front of his couch--and you only notice because Steve’s got a hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’m out of adjectives,” you whisper weakly. “All of the good ones. Most of the naughty ones. Fuck, other languages, too. Even extinct ones. You’re fluent in everything.”

Steve pulls you to his chest and does something athletic that ends with you on the couch beside him, his soft homemade afghan covering the most pertinent parts of your nakedness.

“You make me want to be fluent in everything,” he murmurs. “And, thank you.” Steve grabs his shirt and holds it in front of his crotch. “I’ll get a washcloth.”

He’s jogging farther into the apartment before you can respond, but something about his protective actions trigger a flurry of realization, something you should be--

Oh.

The fall of snow past the giant picture windows brings reality crashing into you. You just had glorious, intense, messy sex in a room that is visible from other nearby buildings!

Steve reappears with a soft-looking washcloth. He’s wearing pajama pants, with what looks like a matching long-sleeved top slung over his shoulder.

“I forgot about the windows,” you say in a small voice, taking the washcloth and using it under the afghan.

“Oh, right,” he says in a completely un-worried voice. Steve looks over at you, sees the half-scared expression on your face, and his demeanor sort of… softens. It’s both obvious and hard to quantify, and it hits you that he’s almost certainly done that before, even if you hadn’t noticed. You imagine there’s a lot of things his clothes and a carefully-crafted facial expression would cover for. He sits down beside you on the couch and offers you the shirt as he says, “The couch is recessed enough into the room that it’s not very visible, I think, but I wasn’t thinking, and I should have asked you about that. I’m sorry.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, and you ask him about that while pulling on his proffered pajama top, juggling the blanket in the process.

“Would it be strange to say I get very… goals-oriented?” he asks, rueful and amused in equal measure.

“How much different a ‘persona’ are we talking, here?”

The question is meant playfully, but Steve takes long enough to answer that you can feel the warmth of the washcloth start to fade in your hand.

“Too different for comfort, I’m coming to realize.” 

He reaches for the washcloth, but you pull it close and get up, gesturing for him to lead you to wherever you can rinse it out. On the way, you can’t help but eye the windows in a new way, perhaps as unintentional adversaries.

“I haven’t let myself be truly seen in a long time,” Steve says as you drape the rinsed washcloth on a drying rack in the dimly-lit kitchen area. “The reason is--well, it might be insulting, but it’s honest.”

You resist the urge to hug your arms around yourself. He’s given you a shirt to wear that matches his, and you were serious with those compliments earlier, despite the pleasure-wrought desperation you felt as you spoke them. “Go on?”

“You’re yourself with me. Not fawning. There’s no facade, no attempt to pretend you have more money or influence. That’s rare. Precious even.”

His statement stings, despite everything that’s happened tonight, despite the way his compliment hews off the rough edges. There’s no derision or judgment in his tone, so you smile at him, albeit stiffly. 

“I don’t really have a way to hide those things. I’m me. I figured if you were bothered by--” you wince, feeling a sense of inferiority rise up inside you (dropped out of college, pulled out of your internship, entry-level job, depleted nest-egg, caregiver for your sister, baggage, baggage, baggage) before you wrestle it all back down. “--any of that, you’d move on, and I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”

“I don’t want to move on,” Steve says firmly, brushing his hand over your hair as if to adjust the disarray that came from putting on his shirt. “I want to move forward, even if that means you can see through some of the windows I usually cover with curtains. Will you be exclusive with me?”

“I’d really like that,” you whisper, overcome. “And not just because you fuck like a complete god.”

The words slip out before you can fucking stop them, and you gasp, the tidal wave of your social inferiority to a man like Steve coming blasting through all the tentative bridges you’ve just built. You hear buzzing in your ears, your vision is misted over with regret--but seconds later, you realize he’s laughing.

“Okay I swear on every single deity that exists, I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud! I’m so sorry,” you groan, your relief over his amusement barely tempering the metallic tang of adrenaline on your tongue.

Your… your boyfriend Steve Rogers takes your hand in his and lifts it up, bowing over it before kissing it with more chivalry than a whole season of Game of Thrones. Even one of the early ones.

“Sweetheart, you’re forgiven.”

<- Previous story...

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (06/10)

The Connection

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: an unexpected person from the past shows up and there is a family dinner to attend, resulting in disastrous thoughts and difficult decisions.

word count: 8.9k

previous part • next chapter • series masterlist

the chapter is finally here!

sorry it took me so long, if you didn't see my last post go do it and you'll know why👀 but we can put it behind us now and I'm excited to tell you that the next chapter will finally give us that next level we've been waiting for so long!

I really hope it won't take me that long but for now, let's enjoy this new chapter and as always, I'll be very anxious to read your comments🥰

enjoy!

The day of the dinner is slowly approaching.

And you still don't feel completely sure about it. However, despite your doubts and worries, you haven't backed out.

Mostly you think about what you're going to tell Aemond's mother by way of ruining things out of nervousness. Of course he should have already given her information about the relationship, but you're worried that she'll ask you questions and you won't know how to answer.

But that's not the reason she wants to get to know you… is it?

You think she probably just wants to know more about you, your likings, your non likings, your aspirations in life, your dreams, your family and things related to that.

Right?

You just hope so.

You've never done this before, meeting a guy's parents, ever. And you just get more nervous and feel more pressure knowing that Aegon and Helaena will be there too.

As well as you also feel guilty about the fact that they all think that you and Aemond are for real and you're just going to go there and convince them and assure them that you and Aemond are crazy about each other… when it's not true.

Now it's Thursday, tomorrow is dinner and Aemond doesn't seem at all concerned about it, when your thoughts are being completely tormented with it.

Still, you listen attentively to his words as you put away some books in your locker and he's standing next to you, leaning against the lockers, with the Romeo and Juliet book in his hands.

"Why did you make me read this shit? It's too hard to read and I don't like it," he says longingly.

You look away from your books to him and place a small amused smile on your lips at the sight of his face.

"It's like poetry and I don't like poetry, I don't understand it," he says frustrated, "I don't understand any of the weird rhyming they say."

"Well, Shakespeare has a unique way of expressing himself."

"Yeah, but what does he mean by 'My lips, two humble blazons, are ready to seal with a kiss softly'?" he recites reading the phrase with his brows furrowed and you let out a small laugh.

"Shakespeare loved beauty in words, even if it meant complicating things a bit."

"Yeah but why can't he just kiss her and be done with it without saying these weird words that give me cringe?"

"Come on," you give him an incredulous look, "It's romantic. The whole book is romantic with a tragic ending."

"This is definitely not romantic," he says incredulously and shaking his head, "It's weird, boring and makes me want to puke."

You look at him with a pout.

"You're not romantic at all."

"Excuse me?"

He immediately comes to defend himself, staring at you incredulously and completely indignant.

"I can be extremely romantic, thank you very much."

You raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, with a small smile as you see the spark of amusement in his gaze.

"You of all people should know that, you've witnessed it and you're the reason I do it mostly," he adds.

"But that's not… you know," you give him an expectant, knowing look.

"It's still romantic."

"No, it's not," you say with a laugh.

At your playful response, still busy at your locker, you don't notice and Aemond suddenly approaches. He takes your chin with one of his hands gently but firmly enough, causing you to look up at him, catching you off guard.

"What did you just say, my love?" he asks with a mischievous smile and amusement in his gaze, appearing serious and warning.

He brings his face closer to yours with a demanding gaze and your heart begins to pound as you let yourself be carried away by his proximity.

It is clear that he is going to kiss you, what does this mean if not kiss you? So you watch him expectantly and with your face lifted towards him, really looking forward to the sweet contact, your lips inches from his.

But first Aemond looks around briefly, wanting to make sure that some students in the hallway are watching you. When then, you see that he is overlooking a specific spot in the hallway.

You see how there is a slight glint in his eye and then he no longer moves.

You frown slightly, waiting. And before you can say or do anything, Aemond suddenly pulls away.

Confusion overtakes you and he clears his throat by averting his gaze, then smiles softly at you as if he wasn't about to kiss you seconds ago.

"Then I'll be more romantic next time," he says, taking his distance from you, as if trying to minimize the tense moment you've just shared.

Was he going to kiss you or not?

You can't just tell him to kiss you either, that he was going to, since this isn't real but… the change in his behavior confuses you, you don't quite understand what just happened and you don't know what to say.

"I have to go to the field now," he tells you, averting his gaze for a moment before looking at you again, "I'll see you in class, okay?"

"Hum… yeah, yeah, okay," you nod, still confused.

He gives you one last smile and before leaving, he gives your shoulder a light squeeze with his hand, another gesture that catches you off guard. Without a kiss on your forehead or cheek, as he usually does, he walks away.

You stand in the hallway, watching him go, with a mix of emotions you can't help but feel confused, uncertain and... disappointed.

Questions swirl around in your mind, but you don't have any answers. So shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you close your locker door and head to your next class.

Eventually you continue to run into him and he acts normal, as usual. He sits next to you in class, does the teacher's requested activities with you, and walks with you through the halls to the next class.

And everything is…normal, in a way.

Although he's still being kind and attentive, he's not being as affectionate as usual.

You can see how he's distracted, deep in thought from time to time, something is on his mind, something that you have no idea what it is but that keeps you alert, confused and makes you feel completely different from previous days.

You sense that the dynamic between you today has changed somehow, leaving you feeling bewildered.

And you don't know why.

Although it's not until break time that you find yourself sitting at a table alone, still feeling this awkwardness, when Alysanne comes in and drops the big bombshell on you that makes all the sense in the world.

"Why are you here eating so casually when I just saw your boyfriend catching up with his other ex-girlfriend?"

You raise your gaze to her almost instantly, with a mixture of surprise and confusion, a knot forming in your stomach as the weight of her words settle on your shoulders.

"What?"

"Yeah, Floris Baratheon," she says, then looks at you slightly confused, "How did you not know this?"

"What?" you repeat, not understanding.

"Floris Baratheon," she repeats to you slowly and clearly, "Dark hair, not as tall and certainly not as bitchy as Alys but still she falls into the category of girls who are superficial and think they are better than other girls," she explains to you.

Confusion lingers in your gaze, for despite the explanation, you still don't remember anything about a girl named Floris Baratheon at school.

"You really don't know who she is? Aemond didn't tell you about her?" asks Alysanne incredulously and your face answers her questions, "She transferred schools for a semester and just returned this morning. She and Aemond weren't actually dating but they had a thing when he and Alys broke up for like the twelfth time."

Your mind whirls as you process the information.

Honestly you had no idea about Floris' existence back in your invisibility days at school. Therefore, you also had no idea that she and Aemond had ever had any kind of relationship.

However… there is something you have an idea of at the moment.

This is why Aemond acted weird with you this morning, because of her. He must have seen her in the hallway and his demeanor changed completely.

"I-I didn't know that," you admit in a soft, low voice, trying to hide the uneasiness that is starting to creep up on you.

"Well, it's weird that Aemond didn't tell you anything, especially since I saw the two of them so comfortable and happy talking," she lets you know, "And I'm not telling you this with any malice or to make you feel bad, it's just that I think you should know, even though I thought you already knew."

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling a surge of emotions wash over you that you can't quite explain, nor can you avoid.

You're not sure what to think or how to react to this, but one thing is for sure; things between you and Aemond are likely to get complicated.

But what can you really do?

You and he aren't really dating. What's the point of asking him about it when it's really none of your business? Besides if he didn't talk to you about it before, when he saw her, it must be for this very reason.

You have no right here, even if you feel this.

"Do you want to get out of here?" asks you Alysanne later, noticing your face and probably everything that is invading your mind.

And soon enough, she takes you to the rooftop of the school, outdoors, where you just sit and watch the sky and listen to her while she smokes a cigarette, talking to you about Cregan being around her lately.

But as much as you want to give her your full attention and corroborate what she is telling you, you can't.

The rest of the classes are without Aemond, since you don't share them with him, and when the school day ends, still not knowing exactly whether to wait for him to drive you home or not, you head for the exit of the building, deep in thought.

"Hey."

You feel a hand grab your shoulder and when you turn your head without stopping moving forward, you find Aemond standing next to you.

"Hi," you reply softly, turning your gaze back to the front.

And he at your side gives you an attentive, curious and slightly confused look.

"Are you okay? I didn't see you at break," he says softly, "I also texted you and you didn't respond."

"Oh," your mind goes blank for a moment, "I was with Alysanne on the roof. She was talking to me about some things."

"Hmm," he nods, still watching you between a mixture of attentive and curious.

Then the two of you say nothing more, with the silence loud between the two of you and that tension emanating from your body, when you speak again.

"Are you going to drive me home today?" you decide to ask him, watching him, with that hesitation in your tone of voice and look.

And he frowns, watching you blankly.

"I always drive you."

You are about to speak but a third voice does it for you, stopping your steps and also Aemond's.

"Aem!"

The two turn their heads and there she is, Floris Baratheon.

Black hair, brown eyes, slender and absolutely beautiful features. She approaches with a smile, showing off her perfect, aligned teeth.

Everything about her screams money, as well as elegance, from her perfectly coiffed hair to her impeccable designer clothes and accessories.

And the moment she catches both your attention and Aemond's, you notice how he beside you tenses slightly.

"Hey," she gives him a charming smile and her full attention, placing herself in front of him, "The guys are going to get something to eat, I was just told. Do you want to join us? We can take off in your car and catch up some more."

"Hum…" he is silent for a moment, shooting you a nervous glance, scratching the back of his neck.

And throwing you another glance, this finally catches Floris' attention and she notices your presence as well.

"Oh… hi," she smiles softly at you.

Despite your nerves and how uncomfortable you're starting to feel, you force yourself to smile as kindly and genuinely as possible.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I know you," she tells you in an exaggeratedly kind tone of voice.

And this too finally gets Aemond to react.

"Yeah, right, that's my fault," he says trying to act nonchalant and completely relaxed, "Floris, this is Y/N, m-my girlfriend."

You watch as she parts her lips and her surprise is evident as she looks at Aemond and then turns her attention back to you.

"I-I didn't find the moment to tell you."

You instantly observe Aemond, with a look that even you can't explain and he suddenly can't control his nervous gestures anymore, giving a wary glance to you and then to Floris.

"Oh."

She turns her gaze back to you and though she tries to hide her surprise, the strength of her smile seems a bit forced as she holds out her hand to you.

"I'm Floris, nice to meet you."

And within everything you're feeling right now, like awkwardness and feeling out of place, you still shake your hand with hers.

"Nice to meet you."

Tension is in the air and Aemond looks hesitant for a moment. And you continue to feel like an intruder between them, getting in between the interaction of two people sharing a history you don't fully know about.

When Aemond speaks again.

"Floris is my…

He tries to tell you, but his words are left floating in the air.

Suddenly you see how he struggles and searches his mind for a way to introduce you to the girl he had a thing with in the past, only according to him, you don't know that, when certainly Alysanne already took care of it.

And just like you, you too feel Floris' anticipation, waiting for him to introduce her.

"An old friend," he finally says.

Floris arches an eyebrow slightly at Aemond's introduction, her lips curving into a smile that seems to contain more than just politeness.

"Yes, that," she punctuates, with a knowing look that to you does not go unnoticed, "Well, I just wanted to know if you were free for this afternoon. Although if you want you can bring your girlfriend with us," she proposes.

Aemond takes a moment to respond, averting his gaze as he scratches the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

And that's when you decide to speak.

"You can go with them," you tell him and that immediately gets his attention and hers, "I can just take the bus or something and I'll see you later," you say to start walking away from both of them.

His attention and slight surprise is most visible on his face, but before you can move too far away, he grabs your hand and advances towards you.

"What? No" he immediately inquires, "No, I'll take you home."

The determination in his tone of voice and in his gaze makes you feel a little more comforted, but still, you can't shake this uneasiness in you about Floris' presence.

And that's when Aemond turns to her again without letting go of your hand.

"Sorry Floris, another time," he tells her in his firmer, slightly strained voice.

And she nods with a sympathetic look, though you can't help but sense there's something else behind her expression.

"Of course, I understand, it'll be for next time then," she says, before turning to you, "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."

And finally she is the first to walk away.

You exchange a look you can't quite describe with Aemond and feel the awkwardness and seriousness linger between the two of you, even as the two of you leave the building and make your way to his car.

And once in the passenger seat and with Aemond driving through the city streets, you find yourself fiddling with your fingers in your lap, still feeling the awkwardness in the air.

You don't understand exactly what's got you right now but you can't even see Aemond out of the corner of your eye, so you keep your gaze focused straight ahead and on the side where the window is.

"Are you okay?"

You suddenly hear his voice speak softly to you, feeling his gaze on you from time to time and you squirm a little in your seat before you speak, swallowing hard.

"Yeah, all good," you say, trying to sound convincing.

He exhales deeply, noticing your distance again.

"I'm sorry if the Floris thing made you uncomfortable. S-she…" he sighs, "She's truly a childhood friend. We had something in the past but it was very brief and it's no longer relevant."

And although there is nothing wrong with his words, you still can't help but feel a slight knot in your stomach. And you act completely unconcerned.

"I understand," you say simply, in a soft voice and still without looking at him.

But this is not convincing to Aemond, who licks his lips and can't help but worry about the situation.

"I mean it."

"Aemond," you call him softly, finally looking at him, "I understand, I really do," you assure him, "I also meant it when I said you should go eat with her and your friends. You seemed very uncomfortable and there was no problem from me."

He nods slowly, but still looks a little uneasy.

"I just didn't expect I was going to see her again."

And you don't know if that's worse.

"Are you ready?"

Oh God, are you?

"I don't know," you answer honestly, nervously, looking at your outfit.

For this occasion you chose a pair of pants, ankle boots and a white tank top with a black jacket over it. You don't look overdressed but decent for the occasion, along with your makeup and hairstyle.

"Hey, easy," he says softly, placing both hands on your shoulders, "It's going to be okay. Besides we won't be alone, Aegon and Hel will be with us."

"Yeah but that's not what I'm worried about," you clarify, playing with your fingers, "What if I ruin everything?" you ask watching him fearfully, "What if everyone realizes that we're not really dating because of me?"

"I'll take care of that, don't worry," he assures you, with his soft gaze, "You just have to corroborate everything I say and stick to the main story. Other than that, my mother will just ask you questions about you to get to know you better."

"Are you sure?" you ask, not entirely convinced.

"Very," he affirms you, conveying calmness and assurance in his voice.

"You've done this before?" you can't help but ask, still with some hesitation, "I mean…" you lick your lips, nervous, "You've brought a girl before to dinner with your family?"

He is silent for a moment, as if considering how to answer, as the implication is clear because that's not the real question, you know that too.

Rather it is: have you ever brought Alys to dinner with your family before?

"Yes," he finally admits in a murmur, sincerely, "Yes, I have."

You stare at him silently, without the two of you saying anything else, only to look away and nod, again trying to look unconcerned, trying to calm your nerves further.

"My mother never liked her," he says later, again attracting your attention, "You know, Alys."

Again, you say nothing for a few moments, just lick your lips and nod.

"I understand."

Aemond lets out a heavy breath and takes a step towards you, lowering one of his hands to take one of yours, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of yours, this also immediately catching your attention, as you see him looking at you for a moment thoughtfully.

"Are you ready now?" he asks you softly, raising his gaze to you, "We can stay here a while longer if you want."

"No," you reply immediately, "No, I don't want to make everyone wait for us," you release a long breath, calming your nerves, "I'm ready now."

He places a small comforting smile on his lips.

"You'll do fine, trust me," he assures you then moves closer to you and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, just like at school.

His action definitely catches you off guard and you look at him slightly surprised, but Aemond doesn't give it that much importance, as if it was already a natural and routine thing between both of you, like a gesture of encouragement, to then take you by the hand together with him to the entrance of his house.

His house is nice and big, with a beautiful garden, so when you open the door, you see a huge and cozy living room with the dining room visible in the background, where you can make out Aegon's figure and his short silver hair.

Aemond closes the door behind you and you briefly look around, seeing the decorations of the elegant house, such as mirrors, flowers vases and also family photos.

Mostly, you see pictures of young children, which you recognize as Helaena, Aemond, Aegon and his other brother, Daeron.

There are also photos of what you assume is their mother and also a man, who you assume is the father, with Aemond and his siblings as children. But it strikes you that none of the four are smiling, just the mom a little.

There are more current pictures, only of Aemond, Helaena and Aegon smiling next to their mother, with no trace of their father and Daeron.

"He's my younger brother," he takes a single photo of a boy, standing next to you and handing it to you, "Daeron."

And just as you imagined, he's a boy of about fifteen with striking blue eyes and short silver hair, smiling at the camera with a bright face and looking in the background like he's standing in a lake at Honeyholt.

"Helaena was right," you say with a small smile, still inspecting the photo, "He really is the handsomest of the three of you."

"That's not true," he tells you immediately, taking the photo out of your hands and putting it back in its place with a quick, automatic gesture, making you laugh.

"What's up, bro?"

You both hear Aegon's voice and turn around, with the silver-haired man already walking towards you with a bottle of beer in his hand and a huge grin on his face.

"Are you drinking already?" Aemond inquires, "Mom's going to kill you."

"Oh, you know how persuasive I can be," he tells him without wiping off his smile, "Besides, I've already set the table," he points to the dining room, "It's dinner, bro."

"Careful," he warns you but he deliberately ignores him, heading in your direction.

"Y/N!" he exclaims your name smiling, coming over to embrace you, "Welcome to our home."

"Hi Aegon," you smile back at him.

He envelops you in a hug and you reciprocate cordially, instantly the strong smell of beer reaching your nostrils.

"Want one?" he points to the beer in his hand as he pulls away from you.

"I don't think so," Aemond answers him, again intertwining his hand with yours, "Where's mom?"

"In the kitchen with Hel" he points out, "Tell them to hurry, I'm starving," he says in a tone of voice that catches your attention.

But Aemond pulls you forward, starting to leave him behind, with a serious and disapproving look at his brother's attitude.

"It's the beer," he explains to you quietly, "I hate it when he drinks at home. I just hope it doesn't get unbearable later."

"Why?" you ask him, curious.

He shakes his head.

"Aegon is… complicated."

He doesn't say anything else and neither do you, mostly because he leads you toward the kitchen, but curiosity still lingers on that subject.

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in a supportive gesture that comforts you as you both cross the threshold into the kitchen, where instantly the smell of delicious freshly baked food hits your nostrils.

And the first thing you notice is a silver hair along with a darker one, who you assume must be Aemond's mother.

And immediately your nerves again explode and you feel your heart pounding hard in your chest.

"Hey, Y/N!"

A friendly voice says to you, being Helaena, who is wiping her hands with a clean dish towel and wearing a beautiful blue dress, instantly heading towards you with open arms.

"Hi Hel," you smile back happily, hugging her enthusiastically.

"Oh I'm so happy you're in our home," she says excitedly and warmly without letting go of you, "We've prepared turkey, I hope you like it," she says as she pulls away from you.

"Oh I'm sure it will," you nod at her with a sincere smile, feeling welcomed by the warmth of her welcome.

"Mom."

Aemond's voice momentarily pulls you out of your conversation with Helaena and you turn your head to meet the gaze of Alicent, Aemond's mother.

Instantly you try to control your nerves and keep your composure, remembering his comforting words.

And when Alicent's gaze meets yours, a warm smile forms on his lips, which makes you feel less nervous and conveys a sense of calm. Although the nervousness lingers, you feel a little more secure with his kindness.

Aemond places a comforting hand on your shoulder and steps forward to introduce you.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/N," he points to you with his small smile, "And Y/N, this is my mom, Alicent."

She is a very beautiful woman.

It's the first thing that comes to your mind, noting the dimples in her cheeks and that warm look she has, not being intimidating at all and being rather kind.

Besides the dark green dress she wears is completely beautiful, as well as her accessories. Everything about her radiates elegance and poise.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, my dear," she says, turning to you, "Gosh, I was so excited to meet you. It's so nice of you to come."

And without expecting it, just like Helaena, she too greets you with a hug, taking you completely off guard, causing you to let out a nervous little laugh as you hug her back.

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Hightower," you say softly, feeling slightly overwhelmed by her kindness and warmth.

"Please call me Alicent," she says as she pulls away from you.

Before all this you asked Aemond what to call her, just for the heck of it and to feel less nervous and he told you 'Hightower', the last name of her father.

So you assume that Aemond's father is not someone who gets mentioned much around here. In the family photos he is present in only one picture. And Aemond doesn't talk about him either.

And he watches with a small smile at the interaction between you and his mother, feeling relieved that things are going well so far.

"Please go and take your seats. Dinner will be served soon," she says to Aemond and you.

"Do you need help?" he asks her.

"I'm already doing it myself," Hel says, "Don't worry, little brother."

"Can you help me with your brother, please," Alicent tells him, with a look of slight concern.

"Of course," he assures her in a gentle tone.

Soon the two of you return to the dining room, the two of you take a seat together with Aegon and Aemond tries to tell him not to overdo it with his drinks, that you are here to enjoy a nice dinner with his family.

But he just makes nonchalant gestures and tells him that everything is fine, to continue drinking, looking at the screen of his phone, waiting for dinner.

Then you don't know how much time passes exactly but Alicent returns very soon along with Helaena with the food, placing the dishes in the center of the table, indicating that all this will start soon.

Aemond places his hand on top of yours underneath the table, giving you every supportive gesture possible, reassuring you at every turn that he can that all will be fine.

Every brush of his fingers against yours conveys reassurance and comfort.

You feel a slight relief as you feel his touch, reminding you that you are not alone at this moment and his presence gives you strength to face any nervousness that may arise during dinner.

And with the food finally served, the silverware begins to clink against the plate glass as everyone begins to enjoy the delicious dinner.

Aemond, like the supposed boyfriend in love with you, is totally attentive to you, asking if you're served this or that, wanting to make sure you're well received and comfortable to make this more bearable.

And you thank him all the way, feeling his mother's gaze on both of you from time to time, without wiping away her warm smile.

"Did you like the food, dears?" she asks generally.

"Oh yes," Helaena says with a look of total complicity, delighting in the food.

"It's delicious, Mom," Aemond tells her later.

"Totally," you corraborate politely, nodding in her direction.

Alicent smiles in satisfaction and then turns her attention to Aegon, who hasn't said anything since everyone started eating.

"How about you, son?" she asks him softly.

"It's fine," he says curtly, taking a huge swig from his bottle of beer.

This definitely gets your attention but Alicent as well as Aemond and Helaena decide not to give it enough attention, as if they're already used to it and don't want to ruin the moment by his behavior.

But you do notice the disapproval in each of their looks, especially the disappointment in Alicent. Though she almost instantly turns her attention away from Aegon to Aemond and you.

"So, how long have you two been dating exactly?" she asks curiously and without losing the kindness in her gaze and tone.

"A month," Aemond replies without hesitation at your side, resting one of his arms on the back of your chair.

And Alicent shakes his head with a small smile on his lips.

"And I still can't believe he kept you hidden from me, Y/N."

You smile in his direction, trying not to let your nerves give you away, as Aemond again interjects, with a soft look.

"We didn't want to rush things."

"I told him not to take too long to tell you," Helaena says as well, pointing at Aemond as she watches her mother.

"But he didn't tell me anything, Aegon did," Alicent says in amusement.

"Oh come on, I was going to tell you anyway," Aemond tries to justify himself.

"Oh you were going to?" Hel questions him.

"You want to turn her against me."

"I'm just telling the truth, little brother."

This causes Alicent to laugh softly and his gaze meets yours, where you laugh softly too, as the fight between Aemond and Hel continues. But this causes you to begin to feel comfortable and more at ease with the whole situation.

The only thing at the table that is completely serious is Aegon, who continues to concentrate on his drink and the food in front of him.

His reserved attitude contrasts with the energy you have with Aemond, his mother and sister, but they don't really give him much attention and everyone continues to enjoy the delicious food and create topics of conversation.

"So…" Alicent begins to speak, watching you with her warm gaze, "What are your college plans, sweetie?"

Oh my God.

Okay, it's happening.

You think as you slowly start to panic, but quickly get yourself under control, settling back in your seat.

"You're all graduating soon," she points to her kids with a small smile.

And you're about to speak but someone else does first.

"Which wouldn't be the case if Aegon hadn't repeated year… twice," Hel says condescendingly, pouring herself more food in a casual gesture.

"Helaena," Alicent reprimands her in a soft tone.

"Don't start with me."

Aegon's voice finally makes itself heard in a long time, speaking in a cold, curt tone, not even observing his sister, focused on his food.

"Just saying," Helaena says also with a pout in his direction.

"Then speak for yourself. You're a year behind too."

"Ugh," she sighs, "You talk like you don't know what happened."

"That's enough," Alicent says calmly, watching you both with a look of silent warning.

The atmosphere tenses slightly and all is silent for a moment, as you notice how Aemond next to you only runs a hand over his chin and you only hear the clink of silverware clattering against glass plates.

Alicent then turns his gaze to you and there you decide to speak, hoping to restore comfort to the atmosphere.

"Well, actually, I've applied to Oldtown University," you say with a soft smile, controlling your nerves, "I'm planning on getting into law school."

Surprise flashes across Alicent's face, as you briefly feel Aemond watching you beside you.

"Oh, wow," she nods slowly, her expression one of amazement, "What a coincidence, that's the same college Aemond wants to go to."

Aemond nods with a small smile, completely keeping up appearances.

"Yes," he confirms, "In fact it's perfect for us to go to the same place after graduation."

And just to show more affection with you, he places his hand and yours intertwined on top of the table, watching you with that 'love' he seeks to convey in these moments in front of his mother.

And Alicent watches you both with her soft smile, but is still intrigued by you.

"And why that choice? Law is something you always wanted to study?" she asks you, with genuine interest in her voice.

You try not to focus too much on the way Aemond's thumb begins to gently caress the skin on the back of your hand, which at the same time also reassures you.

And you nod in Alicent's direction.

"Yes, it's something I've always been interested in. It's a very heavy degree with very dense material, but it's very interesting and it's long been what I've decided for myself."

Alicent nods in your direction, listening to you intently and looking completely interested.

"And I guess at Oldtown it's a great opportunity to want to study law."

"Oh yes," you say eagerly, "Oldtown has one of the best faculties with very capable professors and all the material you need. It's certainly a great opportunity."

"But I also think that getting to study at such an in-demand university with few places in that major can be difficult," she tells you corroborating in conversation.

"Yeah, that's the bad thing, but…" you shrug, "I'm hopeful."

You watch subtly beside you, focusing for a moment on Aemond, speaking with that complicit tone, as of course he doesn't forget that the reason you're here doing this is precisely because of Oldtown.

He knows that all too well too.

"And your parents are supportive of your decision to study law?"

Slight surprise passes across your face, definitely not expecting that question, but you quickly manage to soften your face, though you still remain silent for a moment.

You try to hide any trace of bewilderment as you search for a suitable answer. And it is Alicent's same warm gaze that encourages you to respond.

"Uh… yes, my father is just as excited as I am about this possible opportunity," you reply with a small smile, being honest, "He has always supported me in all my decisions."

You respond without saying anything else and with sincerity, not mentioning anything about your mother.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he nods at you and smiles warmly, "And what about your mother, dear?" she asks with genuine curiosity.

Inevitably your whole body tenses at that moment. And an uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you think again about how to respond.

You honestly didn't expect the conversation to get to this point, about how even after talking only about your father, you're still being asked about your mother.

And for a moment, you don't know what to say or what to do, but you finally decide to react after everything falls into an awkward silence and they begin to look at you slightly confused by your lack of response.

Until you decide to be honest.

"Well, I-I…" you bite your lips, "I don't actually live with her," you admit in a soft voice, avoiding eye contact for a moment, "And I haven't seen her since I was six."

Slight concern crosses Alicent's face, instantly watching you in regret.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie," she says sincerely, embarrassed to have caused you discomfort, "I had no idea. I apologize."

You're about to tell her it's okay, that it's no problem because she didn't know, that it's no big deal, but you don't even get a chance to speak when sudden laughter is heard throughout the dining room.

The tension in the air dissipates in that instant as everyone turns to the source of the laughter, Aegon.

He is visibly drunk, but still conscious enough to know what is going on around him and that is what is alarming.

Alicent, Helaena and Aegon's faces fill with bewilderment and disapproval, except for yours, as you watch Aegon in confusion, not quite understanding what is going on.

"Aegon," Alicent calls to him now truly annoyed, watching him seriously and reproachfully.

But Aegon barely manages to contain his laughter as he apologizes between laughs.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he mutters, his tone full of amusement and insolence.

Then Aemond at your side watches him completely serious, his jaw clenched and his gaze dark, holding back his fury at his reaction after you shared a very intimate and sensitive piece of information to you.

And Aegon laughs at it because of his own stupidity? Of course he's not going to allow that.

"What's so funny?" he inquires, expectant and about to explode.

Aegon straightens in his chair, a smirk on his face.

"Oh, nothing," he replies mockingly, "I just think she and you are perfect for each other. Apparently, we're not the only ones who have parental issues, are we?"

He asks watching his mother and sister, which makes Alicent feel even more tense, watching you worried and apologetic about the little show her eldest son is putting on.

"That's enough," she reprimands him firmly.

But Aegon seems determined to move on and turns to you again with a gesture of camaraderie, ignoring his mother's words and his brother's attitude.

"Don't worry, Y/N," he tells you with a crooked smile, "You can talk about it here and no one will judge you. All of us would understand, wouldn't we? We who wouldn't know about the subject of fucking neglectful parents with their kids."

Aemond's gaze becomes even more intense and his jaw tighter, watching his brother as if he could throw daggers at him with his eye.

"Shut the fuck up," he orders him, controlling himself as much as he can at that moment.

"Aemond," Alicent calls out to him worriedly.

"Or what?" Aegon challenges him, "She better know what she's getting herself into once and for all. With our fucking family traumatized by her own father who never cared about us."

"I said shut the fuck up," Aemond demands of him rising from his chair, causing everyone at the table to become alarmed.

Alicent rises at about the same time he does, and Helaena rises next, alert and worried, while you and Aegon continue to sit, he still unconcerned and you… because you don't even know how to feel about it.

The tension is too much, this is all unexpected and it's all happening too fast. And as if things couldn't get any worse, Aegon continues to talk and drink more.

"I'm just saying you two are the perfect match," he continues, his tone increasingly amused, "She doesn't have a mom and you don't have a dad, bro. Awesome, isn't it?"

Then it all happens too fast.

Aemond advances towards Aegon with a furious determination on his face that puts everyone at the table on alert, reaches towards him and grabs him hard by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to get up.

"Aemond!"

Alicent and Helaena immediately intervene, rushing towards them to stop them, but Aegon doesn't even have time to react before he finds himself on his feet, with Aemond holding him tightly.

"Stop it, Aemond!" exclaims Alicent, his tone full of authority and concern.

You finally rise from your seat as well, alert and worried, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, feeling your pulse racing.

Then Aegon reacts as well, his face transforming into one of rage, placing his hands on top of his brother's.

"Get your fucking hands off me," he manages to say with difficulty.

"I told you to shut the fuck up or didn't I?"

"Oh and now you're going to hit me? Huh?" he asks, punching him in the chest with his hands, "You're going to hit me? And for what? For telling the truth?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you huh!? You fucking cunt," Aemond hits him back in the chest.

"Let go of me, you fucking asshole!"

"That's enough!" Alicent intervenes again, her voice firm and full of authority, "Aemond, let go right now!" she orders, furious, implying that she won't repeat it a fourth time.

The tension in the room seems to increase with each passing moment, as you hold your breath, watching Aemond worriedly, as does Helaena.

Aemond hesitates for a moment, glaring at his brother with determination, until he finally releases him with a tug, pulling away from him still watching him in warning and utter annoyance.

Aegon straightens, rubbing his neck as he glares at his brother resentfully.

"I don't need this shit. Enjoy your fucking dinner," he says grumpily, grabbing his bottle of beer and heading for the stairs, not giving anyone a glance.

At least your pulse starts to calm down when you see how it's finally all over, but you still watch Aemond worriedly.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Alicent turns to you sorrowfully, averting your gaze to her, "What a shame."

"No, no, don't worry…

You start to say in a soft tone when Aemond's serious but definitely kinder voice makes itself heard in your direction.

"I'll wait outside."

The three of you watch him silently and watch as with nonchalant gestures he takes his car keys from his front pocket and with his face still contained in fury, heads out of the house.

With a lump in your throat, you turn to Alicent and Helaena, feeling the weight of tension still hanging in the air even so.

"Thank you so much for dinner. It was nice to meet you," you say to Alicent, trying to sound as calm, gentle and kind as possible.

Alicent smiles sadly back at you, still with her saddened and troubled face.

"It was lovely to meet you and have you come, honey," she tells you sincerely, "Still I'm so sorry. It wasn't my plan for dinner to end like this."

"I totally understand, don't worry," you say with a small smile, "We can always do it again."

You say and immediately regret it, but manage to soften your face in time.

This was supposed to be the only time you would do this, but you feel you owe it to her, to Alicent, as she prepared a delicious dinner with great care. She seemed so excited and happy about everything, especially about you coming that it is such a shame that this happened.

More than anything else that's why you say so.

"Of course," she nods to you, kindly and cordially.

You bid her goodbye with a gentle hug, then embrace Helaena as well, conveying your silent support through the simple gesture.

"If you need to talk, we can do it at school," she murmurs in your ear before releasing you.

"Sure," you promise, returning the hug gratefully.

You take one last look at both of them and head out of the house. And once outside, you feel a shiver run down your spine as you face the cool night air.

And there you see him, in the middle of the night silence and at the edge of the street, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette with an almost absent gesture, looking thoughtful but also still a little upset about what happened.

You watch as he lets the smoke go between his parted lips and you, letting out a long breath, head towards him.

When he looks back at you, you too just watch him silently and he wordlessly opens the driver's door with a soft squeak and gets in the car, so you follow after him, feeling the weight of silence between you.

You too slide into the passenger seat and close the door, where soon the two of you find yourselves moving through the quiet streets of the city, the music on the radio playing at a low volume in the background.

And that's the only sound between you, the music, and even then it's a little uncomfortable.

You bite the inside of your cheek, struggling to find the right words as the tension lingers, but you don't even know what to say. What are you supposed to say when that happened?

But finally it's Aemond who breaks the silence.

"I hope you enjoyed the show," he murmurs, not taking his eye off the road.

You are momentarily speechless, not knowing what to say at that, not even finding the right words in your mind. Then you let out a low sigh, understanding how he must be feeling.

You mean… you went to meet his mother, it was a family dinner, everything was going well and to suddenly have it all end like that with very personal confessions that you had no idea about… it must be completely frustrating for him that you witnessed that.

"Are you okay?" you ask him in a low, soft tone, watching him intently, concerned and understanding.

He lets out a long breath, pursing his lips as he considers your answer, saying nothing for a moment. But when he finally does, he says it in a voice laden with weariness, regret and seriousness.

"I'm not even upset that Aegon said all that… he… he's right," he says resentfully, "I'm upset that you had to witness it."

The weight of his words falls on you, sensing Aemond's seriousness and frustration in his words. You watch his serious and weary face, the fury he is still holding back.

And for a moment, you look like you're not going to say anything, but after biting your lips, you finally speak.

"You don't have to worry about me," you tell him in a soft voice, "After all, he was right about what he said about my mother too," you add, seeking to offer some comfort, "I don't even remember her, you know? And honestly… it doesn't affect me nor do I care."

If your words caused anything in him, he doesn't show it, as he continues with his eye focused on the road.

But inside, he can't help but feel a little surprised and amazed at your ability to accept those circumstances with such calm and determination compared to him.

And finally he nods, understanding the truth of your words.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.

You watch him with a soft and… slightly thoughtful gaze, feeling the tension between the two of you finally begin to fade, resulting in a warm and pleasant atmosphere for the two of you, as usual.

And unexpectedly for him, you take his free hand gently and intertwine your fingers with his, offering a small gesture of support amidst still the frustration he is feeling.

"I don't," you confess softly.

You don't say anything else and neither does he, hoping you can put this behind you. And all along the way, he keeps gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

You wait anxiously, moving your foot repeatedly up and down, glancing from time to time at your surroundings and also at the screen of your phone, wanting to keep the time very much in mind.

The gentle morning breeze caresses your face, with the sun painting golden hues in the morning sky and listening in the background to the birds singing, but also all the movement of the soccer team training early at this hour from the field.

Everything seems to be calm, except for your racing heartbeat, where you avoid biting your nails and simply bite your lips in a nervous gesture, as well as the inside of your cheek.

Then you finally see Aemond approaching with his backpack on his shoulder and his face soft.

"Hey," he says softly, taking a seat in front of you, taking off his backpack and watching you carefully, "What's up? Is everything okay?"

Out of nerves, your whole body tenses and you avoid stuttering as you speak, stirring in your seat.

"Yeah, yeah, just…" you lower your gaze, playing with your fingers, "I just want to talk to you about something."

Aemond nods, giving you his full attention.

"Well? What is it?" he asks you warmly, not wanting to put pressure on you as he notices all the tension that is invading you at the moment.

But he honestly starts to worry seeing you that way.

And you swallow hard, with your gaze lowered, feeling the need to just let it out and nothing more, having that urge so you don't keep torturing yourself with your destructive thoughts.

"I was thinking that… maybe…" you let out a sigh, "Maybe we should stop this," you mutter, your voice barely a whisper.

And Aemond only watches you more intently, beginning to look alert, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Stop what?"

You bite the inside of your cheek hard, completely flustered.

"Our fake relationship," you reply cautiously, watching him intently and with some concern.

"What?" he immediately queries you, "I-I don't-I don't understand."

"I think we've both accomplished what we wanted to… oh well, almost everything," you tell him knowingly, "But we've already put on a good show in front of the whole school, Alys is upset enough, and the cheating thing is behind us. We should stop."

You explain but in the middle of all your explanation, Aemond only frowns more, listening to you completely attentive, watching you surprised and incredulous.

"And the trip to Dragonstone?" he inquires you, with a serious and alert look, "That trip is key, it would be great for both of us to go together, as a couple."

You try to remain calm, but your heart is pounding and your nerves are getting the better of you.

"Yes, I know, but… do we really need to keep pretending?" you ask, "You've already saved your reputation, remember?"

Aemond shakes his head firmly, his jaw tense with mounting frustration.

"It's still not enough," he tells you seriously, "At least wait until after the trip."

"Aemond, I don't see why we should wait until then," you mutter, unsure, "We can finish everything now."

Aemond's expression hardens, his jaw tense with frustration as he tries to understand you.

"Y/N, the trip is in the contract," he tells you firmly, "And we agreed to finish everything until graduation."

You exhale, feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation that you didn't expect was going to get this bad the moment you decided to do this.

"I know, but I don't see the point of this anymore."

He becomes more confused, shaking his head, looking at you confused and now completely frustrated.

"What-what's wrong?" he asks you in a soft but urgent voice, attentive, "Did something happen?" he asks you concerned and interested, "Did something happen that I still don't know about?"

Oh God.

Fear grips you as you struggle to keep your composure and not let your nerves get the better of you.

"Or is this because of the dinner thing? And because of Alys' pranks?" he asks you worriedly, "If it's that, tell me. I-I'll find a way to fix it. You won't have to go to dinner at my house again and I'm sure I can talk to Alys."

"No, no… I-I…" you sigh, "It's not that-

He shrugs, looking at you confused and frustrated.

"Then what is it?"

Your heart pounds as you struggle to keep your composure in front of him.

Your words get stuck in your throat, enduring Aemond's still serious, worried and frustrated look on you, waiting for an explanation. But the feeling of panic grows in your chest and you resign yourself completely.

"Nothing, forget it," you say in a whisper, lowering your gaze.

You stand up and gather your things, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, just as Aemond sighs and looks more frustrated.

"Y/N," he calls your name in a tired gesture.

But you don't heed him, just focus on getting away from him,

"Y/N, please stop," he says to you in a soft but urgent voice.

But you don't stop, you can't.

How could you do it and how could you tell him that the real reason you decided to bring this up to your fake boyfriend is because maybe you are actually falling in love with him and the feeling is getting more and more intense, and you can't help it?

You just can't.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Sexist (Soldier Boy)

Description: Ben is extremely sexist and Y/N can’t stand it.

Word Count: 662

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Y/N asked, looking at Soldier Boy with disgust. He looks at her and smirks, “What sweetheart? Mad that I said the truth?” She rolls her eyes. “It’s sexist.” She growls. “It’s not sexist. It’s a fact. Women should cook and clean for their man.” He shrugged. Y/N looked at him in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that he still thinks that. “No, it's sexist.” “Sexist it is then but it’s still a fact.” He shrugged. Hughie and MM just looked at each other. “Times have changed grandpa, this isn’t the 30’s 40’s 50’s 60’s whatever.” Ben looked at her and gave her a mocking smile. “Trust me sweetheart if it was you’d be in the kitchen cooking for me right now.” Her jaw dropped, as did the other 2 in the room. She slapped him so hard across the face. “I would never cook for a pig like you, I don’t care if it’s the 30’s or not.” she growled and got up. As she was leaving the room Hughie and MM watched her in awe, amazed by how she stuck up for herself. 

Billy noticed the tension in the room between them as they were planning to kill Homelander. He kept eyeing them and noticed the dirty looks they would give each other. “Oy what is it with the dirty looks between ya?” He asked, motioning towards the two of them. Y/N rolled her eyes and Ben smirked, “Well she can’t accept the facts of life.” Y/N eyes widened at his words. The facts of life? What facts of life? “The only fact is that you’re a sexist pig that thinks all women want you. Newsflash Ben, we don’t.” Billy rolled his eyes at the two. “Can you even call yourself a woman? You’re a little girl.” “I’m 22.” “Exactly.” “Shut the fuck up ya cunts.” Billy snapped and glared at the two of them. Y/N looked away from Ben and Ben smirked. “I don’t know why ya smirking mate she’s right.” Ben looked at him. “What?” “No real woman wants a man that acts like that. Ya gonna have to get used to the new world stuff.” Billy tells him. Y/N hid the smirk that she wanted to show. Ben hated the fact that Billy was probably right.

The tension between the two had sizzled down a bit so Ben decided to try and talk to her. “What do you want?” She asked as he sat down next to her on the couch. “What do women want?” She looked at him, confused. “What?” “What do women want out of a man? What makes them want one?” She was confused as to why he was asking this. She shrugged, “We like a man that has manners and doesn’t boss us around. A man that doesn’t expect us to take care of him like we’re his mommy. We like them to buy flowers and chocolates every once in a while.” She answered. He hummed and got up, leaving her confused. 

Days later Y/N had just gotten out of the shower and dressed. She was brushing her hair in her bathroom that was connected to her bedroom. She heard a knock at her bedroom door and set the brush down. She walked to her door and opened it. Ben stood there with something behind his back. “What do you want?” She asked. He cleared his throat and pulled out flowers from behind his back. She looked at the flowers and then him. “These are for you.” He said. She took the flowers but the confused look never left her face. “I’m sorry I've been an asshole to you.” He said and walked away leaving Y/N confused but with some pretty flowers. She sighed and closed the door, she stared at the flowers for a long time not knowing what to think. All she knew was that things were about to change and it would be for the better.

[tsumtsumrry]

Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry. 

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face. 

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet. 

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips. 

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is. 

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it. 

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back. 

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways. 

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm. 

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple, 

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him. 

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it. 

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff. 

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact. 

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan. 

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.” 

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more. 

“Show me. Take me home, H.” 

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt. 

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it. 

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips. 

“Whatever you want. Kiss?” 

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle. 

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something. 

“Harry…” 

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter. 

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you. 

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter. 

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly. 

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement. 

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.” 

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie. 

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips. 

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time. 

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly. 

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top. 

“Wanna be my sous chef?” 

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry. 

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.” 

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed. 

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.” 

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–” 

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?” 

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.” 

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you. 

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?” 

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out. 

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly. 

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes. 

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles. 

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there. 

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone. 

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around. 

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes  a mental note to check on you later. 

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer. 

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at. 

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears. 

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers. 

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable. 

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.” 

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.” 

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end. 

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out. 

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?” 

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response. 

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.” 

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch. 

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him. 

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?” 

“See you soon, petal.” 

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry. 

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs. 

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder. 

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response. 

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that. 

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face. 

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.” 

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth. 

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out. 

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you. 

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group. 

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love. 

Dangerous. 

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.” 

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips. 

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.” 

Ever the flirt, he is. 

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know. 

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.” 

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him. 

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him. 

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches. 

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit. 

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there. 

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess. 

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands. 

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.” 

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.” 

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh. 

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night. 

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are. 

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.” 

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.  

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit. 

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind. 

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for. 

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage. 

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in. 

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner. 

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice. 

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it. 

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger. 

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under. 

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind. 

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.” 

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.  

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes. 

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family. 

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times. 

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face. 

Uh oh. You know that expression. 

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?” 

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind. 

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.” 

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

  Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow. 

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face. 

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims. 

Your smile drops. 

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore. 

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date. 

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman. 

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless. 

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone. 

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse. 

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over. 

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break. 

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.” 

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go. 

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,”  you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.” 

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home. 

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes. 

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say. 

“I want you to meet—” 

You can’t do it. 

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up. 

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now. 

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears. 

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt. 

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry. 

December 24, Christmas Eve. 

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside. 

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die. 

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day. 

Harry. 

Over and over again. 

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good? 

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me. 

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please? 

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me. 

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did. 

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried. 

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead. 

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back. 

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me. 

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more. 

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and  go to open it nonetheless. 

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door. 

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here. 

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck. 

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put. 

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―” 

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.” 

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.” 

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―” 

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.” 

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters. 

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face. 

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest. 

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours. 

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips. 

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes. 

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it. 

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t” 

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little. 

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—” 

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression. 

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication. 

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–” 

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away. 

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply. 

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs. 

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout. 

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind. 

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time. 

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word. 

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes. 

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels. 

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours. 

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you. 

“I know, I know H.” you nod again. 

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much. 

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?” 

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist. 

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies. 

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear. 

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will. 

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks. 

“Do me a favor, honey?” 

You nod eagerly. 

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action. 

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts. 

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting. 

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.” 

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage. 

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased. 

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?” 

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?” 

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are. 

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you. 

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.” 

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat. 

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?” 

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking. 

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good. 

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.” 

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you. 

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips. 

“Did such a good job.” 

“M’so proud of you.” 

“You come so pretty.” 

“So beautiful.”  

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come. 

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face. 

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye. 

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is. 

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit. 

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”  

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?” 

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later. 

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.” 

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home. 

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit. 

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop. 

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before. 

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?” 

“Meant what?” 

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.” 

December 31st, New Years Eve. 

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist. 

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried. 

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks. 

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life. 

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him. 

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks. 

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you. 

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look. 

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb. 

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold. 

9

8

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look. 

6

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?” 

4

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”