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tsumtsumrry · 1 year

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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.

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look.

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?”

“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.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles fics #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles fwb

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offtorivendell · 8 months

Text

Is an oily residue corrupting Azriel's hypothetical mating bond and making him feel off kilter? Is it related to Valg-type magic?

Disclaimer: this theory is a continuation of a few of my others that I've been too lazy to post until now - first I was going to post it for Elriel Month 2023, then Azriel Week 2023... it never happened - but like everyone else I'm having massive FOMO before HOFAS, so here we finally go, even though I know I've forgotten something lol. As usual, this makes no claims of being accurate, it's just theorising for fun.

A massive thank you goes out to @wingedblooms, @tswaney17, @silverlinedeyes, @psychologynerd, @ladynightcourt3, @cassianfanclub, and anyone else I've forgotten (sorry!) for all of our discussions that finally became this post. Love you guys. 💜

Spoilers: this is a Maasverse post, and draws from the ACOTAR series, CC 1 & 2/HOEAB & HOSAB, and the TOG series. It is CC 3/HOFAS spoiler free, as I'm waiting to read it in its "original English" 🤓 on the 30th of January. Please be respectful of that if engaging in the comments before it's published!

Plenty of people, including @silverlinedeyes, @icedflames and myself, have posted our thoughts on mating bonds in the Maasverse, and this theory builds on those previously established - though again, as yet hypothetical - ideas. Specifically, this post about the use of “oily” throughout the ACOTAR series is recommended reading.

What we do know is that:

Mating bonds contain threads, and so do spells.

Mates are the song/music of the soul, and their laughter is likened to music.

Different fae, and magics, contain different scents, be that personal or regional

First, let's go back to ACOWAR, when Feyre described the Ravens' entrance into the library as being like an off-kilter chord:

I felt it at the same moment she did. The ripple and tremor. Like … like some piece of the world shifted, like some off-kilter chord had been plucked. We turned toward the illuminated path that we’d just taken through the stacks, then to the dark far, far beyond. - ACOWAR, chapter 30

Initially, I had wondered if the King of Hybern had had Jurian use the Harp to infiltrate Velaris, but it was @merymoonbeam (I think) who theorised that the Cauldron might be mimicking the Harp, and maybe not doing the best job of it. Which made me wonder, could it do the same with mate bonds?

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate. - ACOWAR, chapter 24

What if the Elucien bond, as either a spell or piss poor Cauldron-Made approximation of a bond, causes Azriel - and maybe Elain, possibly Lucien - nausea when Lucien is around because it's constantly changing, or reverberating over the top of, what remains of a hypothetical Elriel bond?

What if it's making the Elriel bond off-kilter, out of whack, imbalanced?

Does this make Azriel feel sick, nauseous, or simply overwhelmed/overstimulated?

When people are feeling off-balance, for whatever reason, they can feel sick or nauseous. It's one of the symptoms of vertigo, which can be triggered by severe headaches such as migraines. And guess who rubs their temples? Azriel!

Alternatively, certain chords played loudly enough on a string instrument can really mess with your chest - and where do mating bonds attach - if you're standing close enough for them to vibrate through you (at least, they do for me haha). It can be weirdly disconcerting, and I'd imagine that if Azriel or Elain feels something like this, no wonder he describes such severe discomfort that he needs to leave, and she shrinks away from Lucien, the unintentional cause of her pain.

Same with the smell; if the magic of the Cauldron, in whatever way, is messing with the smell that should be there? Contaminating it? Unbearable.

Is this too crack for you? Well, let's get even crazier.

I have previously suggested that the Cauldron's actions throughout the series could be tracked, in part, by SJM describing a feeling or quality as “oily,” and I've also wondered if the dark maker of the Cauldron - Koschei? - could have hijacked it in some way, as the Book of Breathings being made from leftover iron gave me “One Ring” vibes. I still stand by that, but with a clarification (and here is where the TOG and CC spoilers come in, FYI). I think it's only half of the magic belonging to the Cauldron that is "oily":

Throughout TOG, the Valg are heavily associated with “oiliness,” in terms of their blood and magic. The smell “reeks” and always results in the involved characters experiencing extreme revulsion, including headaches. Sound familiar?

Wyrdstone has an oily, hideous aftertaste.

Even in CC 1/HOEAB, Danika was described as oily when she came into Griffin Antiques.

Celaena looked at the sealed door, her stomach turning. A half-dried pool of blood lay at the base of the door, so dark it looked like oil. She crouched, swiping a finger through the puddle. She sniffed at it, almost gagged at the reek, and then rubbed her finger against the pad of her thumb. It felt as oily as it looked. - COM, chapter 45

“What the hell is that?” Rowan demanded, kneeling beside her, sniffing her outstretched hand. He jerked back, snarling. “That’s not dirt.” No, it wasn’t. It was blacker than night, and reeked just as badly as it had the first time she’d smelled it, in the catacombs beneath the library, an obsidian, oily pool of blood. Slightly different from that other, horrific smell that loitered around this place, but similar. So similar to— “This isn’t possible,” she said, jolting to her feet. “This—this—this—” She paced, if only to keep from shaking. “I’m wrong. I have to be wrong.” There had been so many cells in that forgotten dungeon beneath the library, beneath the king’s Wyrdstone clock tower. The creature she’d encountered there had possessed a human heart. It had been left, she’d suspected, because of some defect. What if … what if the perfected ones had been moved elsewhere? What if they were now … ready? - HOF, chapter 45

The overseer roared, thrashing as her magic swept into him, melded with him. But there was nothing inside to grab on to. No darkness to burn out, no remaining ember to breathe life into. Only— Aelin reeled back, magic vanishing and knees buckling as if struck. Her head gave a throb, and nausea roiled in her gut. She knew that feeling—that taste. Iron. As if the man’s core was made of it. And that oily, hideous aftertaste … Wyrdstone. The demon inside the overseer let out a choked laugh. “What are collars and rings compared to a solid heart? A heart of iron and Wyrdstone, to replace the coward’s heart beating within.” - EOS, chapter 15

* Side note, it's giving Tamlin and his stone heart.

Danika didn’t just look like she’d been rootling through the garbage. She smelled like it, too. Wisps of her silvery blond hair—normally a straight, silken sheet—curled from her tight, long braid, the streaks of amethyst, sapphire, and rose splattered with some dark, oily substance that reeked of metal and ammonia. - CC HOEAB, chapter 1

The Hind held Ruhn’s gaze as the game began. She was the spitting image of Luna, with her upswept chignon, the regal angle of her neck and jaw. As coldly serene as the moon. All she needed was a pack of hunting hounds at her side— And she had them, in her dreadwolves. How had someone so young risen in the ranks so swiftly, gained such notoriety and power? No wonder she left a trail of blood behind her. “Careful now,” the Harpy said with that oily smile. “The Hammer doesn’t share.” The Hind’s lips curved upward. “No, he doesn’t.” - CC HOSAB, chapter 33

I think the dark maker of the Cauldron could have been Valg, whether that's Koschei or someone else I don't know though Koschei currently makes the most sense. I also don't know when the dark maker would have had the chance to influence the Cauldron; was it always made from dark and light, or - as @fawnandshadows theorised a while back - did Koschei bastardise it after the fact? Where the Valg would fit in with the Daglan and the Asteri is also a mystery, though my current train of thought is that they could be family names or allegiances, like different clans of the same parasitical species, thanks to the description of Danika in HOEAB.

But, back to Azriel and his severe reaction to the Elucien bond.

I know I'm not the only one who wonders at the very Valg-ish themes with which Rhys and Azriel's powers have been described - maybe one day I'll post my thoughts about the possible link between lightsingers, shadowsingers, daemati and the Valg (but it is not this day lol) - and how that may have come about. For example, are the Valg interwoven, genetically, with the Avallen people, or is it because the Princes of Hel are also involved, and have similar magics? Are the Princes of Hel a similar species as the Valg, Asteri and Daglan, or completely different? Ugh, let's stop this spiral here.

Oily: the obvious train of thought being that oily things are slippery, which can lead to an imbalance… ie. becoming off-kilter.

Sounds like Azriel could be suffering from some sort of vertigo, of which symptoms can include nausea; severe headaches, such as migraines, may trigger an episode… and who rubs his temples enough that Elain noticed it?

Maybe Azriel can sense the corruption in the bond, either the current Elucien bond, or the hypothetical original bond between Elain and himself; if like calls to like, and his shadows are Valg-ish, maybe it is because his OG bond was fucked with. So, what if:

Azriel's shadows can slip away from spells and binding magic (Slippery > oily > Valg).

The guards at the prison know what he is.

Valg magic making Azriel nauseous and Elain sourcing/making a healer's powder for him? It's giving Chaol and Yrene. Especially since Elain (and Mor) make his shadows brighten.

So, we have in-text mentions of Azriel feeling overwhelmed due to the proximity of the Elucien bond, as well as Elain shrinking from Lucien - an action that parallels Azriel hanging out in the doorway, and even Lucien retreating to the human lands, if he feels any bond-related discomfort around Elain. But what about his initial response to seeing Elain, and thinking she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen? The quote that sent me down the “oily” rabbit hole to begin with?

Well, Aelin felt oily disgust at the thought of marrying someone who wasn't Rowan:

“There are no allies,” Darrow said. “Unless Her Highness decides to be useful and gain us men and arms through marriage”—a sharp glance at Rowan—“we are alone.” Aelin debated revealing what she knew, the money she’d schemed and killed to attain, but— Something cold and oily clanged through her. Marriage to a foreign king or prince or emperor. Would this be the cost? Not just in blood shed, but in dreams yielded? To be a princess eternal, but never a queen? To fight with not just magic, but the other power in her blood: royalty. She could not look at Rowan, could not face those pine-green eyes without being sick. - EOS, chapter 5

This example from Aelin could describe Azriel and Elain’s potential future if Elain accepted a theoretically Cauldron spelled bond to Lucien, but also for Lucien and Jesminda, if they were originally true or fated mates before she was murdered.

Some final thoughts:

We know from TOG that healing light is known as the Valg executioner. In a parallel to Yrene killing Erawan with her healing light in KOA, Elain killed the King of Hybern - who I suspect was possessed or assisted by a Valg, as Feyre described his magic as a “galaxy” in his palms - with Truth-Teller, which had recently devoured the (her?) sunlight; does this mean that Elain could heal or purify Valg possessed things, with or without the magical, Made dagger? Could this be extrapolated to Azriel's magic, the Dread Trove, or even the Cauldron (possibly with Feyre and Nesta for the bigger ticket items)?

If the Asteri are the same species as the Valg, and the Valg somehow had a hand in making or twisting the Cauldron, it could follow that they used the Cauldron to create offspring bonds for a more powerful food source. If this pans out then Elain, bright light, could hypothetically heal the Cauldron. Maybe that is why Azriel describes her with purity language? Not because SJM wants to display Azriel's apparently toxic thoughts about her (🙄), but because she, along with her sisters, will be his/their salvation? Rhys once said as much to Feyre!

@mrspettyferr has suggested that Azriel's shadows ability to hide him from binding magic - see: the High Lord's meeting in ACOWAR - could have prevented his true bond from snapping with Elain when she came out of the Cauldron. This could be supported by any Valg/shadow link.

Thank you for reading! Please don't mention any CC HOFAS spoilers in the comments or reblogs until after it has been officially published. 💜

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year

Note

Hiii!:)

I was hoping I could request a song prompt for Charles with home by Edith Whiskers if possible?

Take all the time you need btw no rush!

Thank you :)

my home - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: #5 from the songs prompt list with cl16

word count: 1k

warnings: mentions of sex, but nothing further

note: thank you for requesting

masterlist / prompt list / taglist

Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma' and Pa' Not the way that I do love you

He was looking at you from afar, marveling about your beauty. You were truly out of his league. He doesn’t really remember how he first talked to you, but what he remembers is, that you looked so magical. And now three years later, you looked just as magical, if not more.

He loved you so much, wishing you would have had time to meet his late father. Pascale, his mother loves you, she loves you so much. She loves you like a daughter she never had. That’s what made you special, the love you received from all sides. Taking it all in and reflecting it ten times harder. Everybody loves you for that. Especially Charles.

Well, holy moly, me oh my, you're the apple of my eye Girl, I've never loved one like you

Time stops when he’s with you. He loves you like nothing else and receiving a love back, he’s never experienced before. It feels like you belong to him, some invisible string attaching you to one another. It’s meant to be.

Man, oh, man, you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness There ain't nothing that I need

You first met Charles at the Italian GP, having just celebrated your bachelor’s degree, your friends and you decided to make a short visit to the paddock of the formula one GP. You didn’t have any passes or anything that could take you in, you and your friends just stood outside the paddock and tried to find a way inside. That’s where he saw you the first time, laughing and giggling with your friends, sneaking around.

He wanted to have you as a friend. You seemed like so much fun, it’s crazy how much like fun you looked. So, with long strides he walked towards your friend group and talked to you. Six months later, you were best friends with the formula one driver and laughing and doing shit together.

Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ Ain't nothing please me more than you

And as you two grew much more together, it happened. You two had sex and it was the most that heaven was seen on earth. You two fit like a piece of puzzle. Made for each other and not leaving any space for something or someone else. At first you were scared it would ruin your good friendship, but as you laid there, panting heavily, kind of but also not regretting your choice, he kissed you with his perfect lips and told just how much you mean to him.

Oh, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you

You moved together 8 months after you confessed your feelings to each other. And Charles always felt special after coming home from a race, because now he had a home to come back to.

Opening the door and shouting “Honey, I’m home!” was a dream come true for him. He always wished to have someone to come home to after a long week of racing. And now he had you, his home.

I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark Girl, I never loved one like you

You attended as many races as you could, having to work it was difficult to make it possible. That’s why he accompanied you everywhere you went. If you had to work, he would sit in your office working on new strategies for the car. You always went to the gym together, never a time you didn’t.

Shopping? He was the first one to go with you. Or meeting your friends? He was happy that he could just sit at the table and hold your hand. He went everywhere with you, and you were more than fine with it, because you missed him just as much as he did.

He loved you like nothing else, and you were sure to show him that you loved him just as much.

Moats and boats and waterfalls, alleyways and pay phone calls I been everywhere with you

Your favorite thing to do during the breaks was travelling. Having Charles just for yourself and exploring all the beauty nature has to give. You went to the Maldives, Australia, Switzerland, Belgium, Thailand, Bali and many more countries. Seeing him relaxed and bathing in the sun, resting his eyes on the beach or washing his hair under a waterfall, it was perfect. Everything he did was perfect to you.

We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night Nothing new is sweeter than with you

But what the most perfect thing about your relationship was, was your carelessness; you danced with him in the rain. Walked barefoot down the street in the night just to still feel the warmth of the sun through the street. You laugh together, you cry together, and nothing is sweeter than your relationship with Charles.

You are his home, and he is yours. Feeling like this is meant to be and hoping it will never end. You and Charles are like a pair of socks, always best as a pair.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 #ferrari #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #formula one #f1 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

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ripleyresonance · 9 months

Text

Sweet Enough to Eat pt 2

Sugar Mommy Rhea! x OC

Part 1

Thank you guys so much for all of the love on the first chapter. Typically I am a one-shot Sm*t kind of girl but let's see where this story takes us. And don't worry I will still post some one-shots in between.

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As the two sat across from each other at a quaint cafe Cali’s mind was racing. She looked down at her freshly manicured nails tracing the outline of her stiletto acrylics with her thumb as Rhea sat down.

“I ordered you a mimosa...I know it's 2 pm but I say we celebrate our new…relationship.” Rhea smiled.

Cali blinked a couple of times studying the woman's face to see any doubt and yet the woman was dead serious.

“So I was thinking we could talk about the…finer details?” Rhea winked finally pulling Cali out of her shock.

Cali was a lot of things but when it came down to “business” she could put everything else aside.

“My weekly fee is 3k but if you do monthly I can let it slide to 10k,” Cali said taking a sip from her glass.

Rhea laughed causing Cali to lift an eyebrow.

“Sweet girl, I don't know what these other “Mami’s” gave you but I don't have a “Limit”. You like it I get it no question asked,” Rhea said.

“So I can tell you I want a Gucci bag because my head hurts and boom you get it?” Cali questioned.

“I think that is a pretty valid reason to buy a bag” Rhea shrugged.

Cali’s mood shifted a bit…maybe she wanted to emphasize the sugar aspect of this relationship.

“And you expect me to be… “available” all the time? Cali whispered admittedly afraid of the answer.

“Available?” Rhea repeated.

“Like in the sugar capacity?” Cali said looking into Rhea's eyes as hers went wide.

“Oh god no that's not what I meant, I meant it in more of the way that you should be able to have everything you want without strings attached…well, I guess some strings because I want you to travel with me sometimes or be there when I come home but not make you think you have to have sex with me for it! It is not like I would mind I mean look at you, you are stunning but if we did that I would rather it be”- Rhea studdered as Cali burst out laughing.

Rhea seemed very flirty and direct from all their interactions so far so seeing her loose composure made her comfortable again.

“Alright then no sugar…for now. Any other terms you would like?” Cali smiled at her seemingly making Rhea blush.

“Let's start the deal by making the contract last a year. Therefore if you don't like it or I don't like it we can go our separate ways. I just expect you to show up for me when I ask and I will give you the world. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Rhea smiled extending her hand.

Cali returned the smile placing her hand in Rheas as she lightly kissed Cali’s hand sealing the deal.

Cali rolled her eyes that time making the Australian laugh.

“What the hell was that for you can’t already be exasperated with me,” Rhea said.

“Sorry, you just go from so smooth and flirty to the most fuck boy gestures.” Cali laughed causing Rhea to gasp dramatically.

“I will have you know that women usually love gestures like that,” Rhea said.

“So you have done that to other women…like I said, fuckboy.” Cali playfully waved her off as she stood up.

“And yet, it seems like you like that,” Rhea said pulling her into her lap. “Cali” Rhea whispered in her ear.

Cali felt her cheeks heating up as she playfully pushed her shoulder.

‘Hey hey! No sugar for you, YOUR rule.” Cali said standing up and fixing her skirt.

“Plus I saw this bracelet in a window we passed move it “Mami”. Cali grinned.

The two spent the day together Cali buying an impressive amount of stuff. To be honest she was not the most high-maintenance sugar baby. But after not having funds for a few months she went a little crazy. She started feeling bad as Rhea made her fifth trip from her car to Cali’s apartment.

“I'm so sorry it’s such a mess in here,” Cali said frantically, trying to clean up some magazines on the ground and a pizza box on her table.

Cali had originally been given this apartment by one of her sugar mommy’s. It was beautiful. It had a loft that was covered with plants. As the sun went down you could see the golden light reflecting off of every potted plant making a mix of colors shine through the apartment. But something about the large space seemed…cold.

Rhea watched as Cali frantically ran around. She made a note to herself of the look on her face of embarrassment as she tried to hide her mess. And Rhea found it adorable.

“Please sit anywhere you like I think I have a cabernet I flew in a while ago from France,” Cali said grabbing two wine glasses.

“It’s a nice place,” Rhea remarked.

“I know right? I have had some wild nights here..some mornings too.” Cali laughed.

“It just seems so…” Rhea trailed off

“Luxurious, sophisticated, stunning?” Cali smiled strolling over with the wine.

“Lonely” Rhea whispered making Cali pause.

“It’s not that bad! I am told I throw the best parties everyone talks about them the next day.” Cali cleared her throat setting the glasses down.

“But when they leave…” Rhea prodded.

“What is this the pity party or something? I said I was lonely last night because I was drunk and look It led me to you.” Cali winked trying to change the subject.

“And we are both the better for it.” Rhea conceded.

Cali smiled at the response picking up her wine glass to toast.

“To a new relationship,” Cali stated.

‘To new beginnings.” Rhea said as they lightly clinked their glasses.

Cali made sure to cover her emotions with particular care but Rhea noticed immediately something she couldn’t hide from.

No matter how many parties she had, bodies rushed in and out of the apartment. Cali tried to hide it by liking nice things, but she wanted someone to see her for who she was.

In that moment Rhea made it a priority. In this year she would see it. She would see Cali’s true self.

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Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list going forward!

Tag list:@bdalas, @babybatlover,@asherlilwitch,@littlemiss-fanficlover,@eepyslut,@cakeiloki,

#mami rhea #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #wlw #wwe #rhea ripley imagine #wwe raw #rhea x reader

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hearts-hunger · 4 months

Text

evergreen — part one

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist | Join my taglist here!

Series Summary: Jake takes you on your first vacation to the cabin the gang stays at every year. When memories of past relationships loom heavy, will this vacation send cracks through the foundation of safety and trust you have in each other?

Chapter Summary: Jake picks the worst room possible to share with you.

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Josh x Baby, Sam x Danny | Genre: fluff, angst, emotional h/c | Word Count: 3.5k | Warnings: drinking, sexual innuendo, mentions of infidelity

A/N: Hi it's me again with another Cabin Fever fic :)) I've had this one bouncing around the ol' noodle for a while now, and I'm finally trying my hand at it. It's a direct sequel to Cabin Fever and No Strings Attached, set about a year after No Strings. I don't know how many chapters it's going to have, but I hope you like this first one! ♡

“God, am I glad we decided to drive together. No way the boys would have let us stop for drinks so many times.”

You looked over at your best friend and smiled, cradling the peppermint mocha you’d gotten at the last Starbucks you'd come to before you truly left civilization. She was holding a latte in one hand and steering Josh’s jeep with the other, humming along to the playlist you'd put on.

“You don’t think we could have convinced them?” you asked. “We do have some feminine charm at our disposal.��

She grinned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. And since Danny’s driving, and he can't say no to either one of us, we probably could have gotten away with it.”

You propped your feet up on the dashboard, enjoying the scenery of the winding road through the woods as she drove. You were headed to the infamous cabin you’d heard so much about, the one they’d vacationed in each fall for the past two years. It would be your first time there — you and Jake had started dating a few months after they went last time, and you were looking forward to being a part of the friendship lore the trip held now that you were a part of the family.

Baby gestured to her bag in the back. “Grab my notebook out of there,” she said. “It’s got a list of things I want us to do this week. Look it over and add stuff that I missed.”

You did as she said, perusing her neat handwriting and seeing things like make breakfast together and have a movie marathon. At the top, with a little smiley face by it, was a neatly penned item reading break the bed.

You laughed. “Ah, I see where your priorities are.”

She glanced over at the list and gave you a smirk. “It’s tradition. Nobody bats an eye about it. I can guarantee you it’s high on Jake’s list too.”

You felt a dull blush creep up your neck at that. It was no secret that you and Jake were intimate, but there was something about this trip that made you a little nervous, perhaps foolishly so. The last time they’d all come, Jake had brought his ex, Izzy, with him. That had been before she cheated on him and he broke up with her, but they’d no doubt broken the bed that trip when everything had seemed fine between them.

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m coming?” you asked.

She waved you off. “Of course. Don't even ask. You’re in the Kiszka-Wagner clan now, sparrow, and it wouldn't be a family vacation without you.”

You wondered briefly if she’d said the same to Izzy last year. Of course she would have been kind to Jake’s then-girlfriend, but you wished that you'd gotten to be the first girl Jake brought to the cabin.

She looked over at you and smiled. “I’m really glad you’re coming. I would be bored to death if it was just me and the boys.”

“I don't know,” you teased. “Judging by this list, you’d have kept busy.”

She laughed. “Well, maybe. But I want to spend time with you, just as much as I want to spend time with the guys doing whatever they can cook up.”

You smiled, deciding to forget your worry and just enjoy the trip. “Speaking of,” you said, “we should add that cooking show competition thing to the list.”

“Oh, yeah!” she agreed. “Write that down. We're definitely doing that.”

You penciled it in where you could find space, and the two of you spent the last few minutes of your trip coming up with ideas for things you could do over the week. Songwriting was the most important to the boys; Baby said they usually took a lot of time to work on new songs when they had the time and leisure to play around with them in a low-pressure environment.

“Lunch has got to be the first thing we do, though,” she said. “I'm starving.”

“Me too,” you said dramatically. “Should I text the guys and ask them to throw a pizza in the oven or something?”

She turned onto a long dirt road. “Maybe we got lucky and they already did,” she said. “Because.... ta-da! We're here!” She pulled into dirt driveway that led up to a big, snug-looking cabin nestled into the trees. Josh and Sam were unpacking Danny’s truck, and you parked next to them.

“Well well well,” Josh teased, giving his girlfriend a quick kiss hello. “Look who finally showed up.”

“Had to get coffee, honey,” she insisted. Josh opened the back of his jeep and started pulling out your bags. “We can do that, though. You guys just unloaded all your stuff.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said sweetly. “Come on inside. Danny's got lunch going.”

“Oh, thank god,” she sighed. She followed Josh as he took her bags inside, and you stood by the jeep, a little shy about walking in by yourself, wondering where Jake was.

Before you could start feeling too lonely, you were swept up in a bear hug from behind. You squeaked in protest as your feet left the ground, giggling when you realized who it was.

“Just me, sparrow,” Jake teased, setting you back down and kissing your cheek. “Not a wild animal, I promise.”

You smiled, feeling much more at ease now that you were with him. “How was I supposed to know? All the way out here in the woods, anything could happen.”

“Nah, I gotcha. No bear attacks for my best girl, if I can help it.” He took your bags from the trunk. “You ready for the grand tour?”

You took his arm when he extended it to you in a very gentlemanly fashion. “Lead the way, Mr. Kiszka.”

He showed you inside the cabin, pointing out the kitchen, the living room, and the back porch.

“Basement’s down there,” he said, walking you past another door on your way to the bedrooms. “We’ll get that set up after lunch so we can work on some music later.”

The cabin was cosy and rustic, the perfect place for a getaway with your best friends and your boyfriend. You hugged his arm as he led you down the hall, and he showed you the bunk room and three other bedrooms, each with a single, big bed.

He ushered you into the last bedroom and started unpacking your bags, putting your clothes neatly in the dresser drawers next to his things.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, a little guilty.

“It’s no trouble, sweetheart.” He finished and nudged the drawer closed with his hip. “How do you like our room?”

“It’s lovely,” you said sincerely. The king sized bed was spread with colorful quilts and pillows, and it reminded you a little of the cabin you’d shared when you got together. You scooched close to him. “It’s romantic.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you like it. Anywhere would be romantic with you, but I like it too. I staked my claim on this room last year, mostly because it’s the darkest, and you know how I get about sleeping with any lights on.”

Your heart sank a little, any amorous thoughts dissolving as quickly as they’d come. So this was the room he’d shared with Izzy the last time he was here? You knew it shouldn’t bother you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn't.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what you should say.

He read your discomfort. “What’s wrong? You don't like it?”

You shook your head and tried for a smile. Obviously it didn’t bother him, and you didn’t want to cause trouble your first five minutes there.

“No, it’s great,” you said. “I love it. You have very good taste.”

He kissed you. “I know,” he said pleasantly. He took your hand. “Come on. Let’s see what everybody else is doing.”

They were in the kitchen making lunch, chattering on about memories the cabin held for them, and you felt the weight of your discomfort a little more sharply. You didn’t know any of these inside jokes, nor the antics that had gone on here at the cabin; you tried to remind yourself that you’d make plenty of memories with them this week and tried not to let it bother you.

After lunch, you all made your way down to the basement, where you helped get things set up to the boys’ satisfaction. Christmas lights were strung overhead, amps and instruments set up, comfy couches and chairs rearranged.

“Hey, do you think you can teach me some new stuff this week?” you asked, venturing over to where Jake was taking his guitar out of its case. You weren’t the best at guitar, but Jake was always patient with you, and under his kind direction you’d improved more than you’d ever hoped you could.

He smiled. “Sure, honey. I’d like to.” He nodded towards Sam and Danny. “I think your boys are trying to rope us into a hike right now, though.”

“We just got here,” you said, amused.

“You know Sammy,” Jake said. “Always looking for some adventure to get into.”

You went to talk to “your boys” and found that Sam was, indeed, planning a trek into the woods. Danny seemed perfectly willing to go along with his boyfriend’s scheme, as he generally always was, but told you that there was no pressure to join them.

“Aw, you don't want to miss it, sparrow,” Sam protested. “You have to see the waterfall.”

You’d heard of this enigmatic, hidden waterfall, and your curiosity was piqued.

“Fine, but somebody’s making me apple cider when we get back,” you said.

Sam gave Danny’s shoulder an affectionate slap. “Dan’s got that covered. Don't you, babe?”

Danny rolled his eyes and smiled. “Yes, I’ll make sure sparrow has a festive little drink as a reward for putting up with you.”

“Good man,” Sam said cheerfully.

Baby and the twins were cajoled into coming with you as well, and you set out into the chilly woods together to find the waterfall. You huddled into a flannel jacket you’d stolen from Jake forever ago, enjoying the crisp autumn weather and the company.

Jake, Josh, and Baby were leading your group; you hung with Sam and Danny a few paces back, thankful for Danny’s steadying hand when you came to overgrown parts on the trail.

“Did you guys pick a room yet?” Danny asked, holding your hand as you stepped over a fallen tree trunk. “Sam was too excited to get outside for us to decide on one, but I guess we’ll just go with the same one we had last year.”

You gave him a rueful smile. “Well, Jake picked ours. Care to guess which one?”

“Probably the last one on the right,” he said, frowning a little. “He picked that one last time, but... oh, I see what the trouble is there.”

Sam found a sturdy walking stick in the brush. “Jake can be kind of an idiot sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you said, a little more bitterly than you’d intended. “Not the smartest choice, I thought, but hey.”

“Just tell him,” Sam suggested. “He’s not that much of an idiot that he’d make you stay there once he knew why you didn't want to.”

“Oh, I don't know,” you said, hesitant. “I don’t want to be annoying. It’s just a bedroom, after all.”

“Yeah, with a big, comfy bed he’s shared with someone else.”

Danny elbowed him. “Not helping, love.”

Sam looked a little abashed, then, but his easy, incorrigible smile won out.

“Sorry, Sparrow. I'm kind of an idiot sometimes too. But I do think you should just tell him.”

“You can have mine and Sammy’s room,” Danny offered.

“And I can guarantee that Jake hasn’t slept with either of us in there,” Sam added. You laughed, and Danny shook his head.

“Samuel Francis,” he said, chiding and affectionate. “You’re terrible at this sort of thing, you know?”

He shrugged, a lazy grin spreading over his face. “Got a laugh out of her, anyway.” He slung his arm over your shoulders. “Don’t fret, my pet. Once you get this bedroom thing sorted out, this week’s gonna be great. Not least because...” He pointed ahead of you with his walking stick. “We’re almost at your waterfall.”

The six of you came through the trees to a beautiful swimming hole and the accompanying waterfall, and you had to admit it was very nice. Jake was looking for skipping stones along the water's edge, and you joined him.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he said. “Did you have a good time with Sam and Danny?”

“Yeah,” you said truthfully, thankful for their kind advice and help. You handed him a perfectly flat stone to add to his collection. “How’s this one?”

“This one,” he said, holding it up to inspect it, “is a winner. C’mere.”

You did, following him to the bank, and watched him skip your stone an impressive five times across the water.

“Here, you try,” he said, handing you a few.

“I’m not very good at it,” you said hesitantly.

He grinned. “Sweet!” At your confused look, he softened and pulled you snug against him, your back to his chest. “Gives me an excuse to get real close and teach you how it's done. I didn’t know how I was going to convince you to let me teach you if you were good at it.”

You smiled and snuggled close to him. “Don’t worry. I would have pretended not to know.”

Giving you some pointers, he stretched your arm out and showed you how to move your wrist just so. He did it with you a few times, sneaking kisses here and there, and you probably would have been more successful if you hadn't been so distracted by his warmth and affection.

“Okay, you try,” he said, letting you go.

“No, one more,” you said, wanting him close.

He chuckled. “How about some incentive? I'll give you a kiss for every skip.”

That was motivation enough, but you tossed the next stone with such vigor that it skated straight under the water without so much as one skip.

“Aw, super,” you said. You looked to Jake. “Can that count?”

He kissed your nose. “Half a point. Try again.”

You did, several times, and earned kisses for each paltry one- and two-skip attempt. Then, finally, your stoke skipped four times.

“Ha!” you said, exultant. “There. Four kisses, please.”

He smiled and obliged you, giving you an extra for a job well done.

“See?” he said. “You’re pretty good after all.”

“And now you've Pavloved me into expecting kisses every time,” you teased. “That won’t ever get boring.”

He hummed and gently butted his head against yours. “You’re right. It won’t.”

Warm with his affectionate attention, you felt brave enough to bring up the bedroom situation, sure he would understand.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you asked.

“Always, sparrow,” he said gently. “What’s up?”

“Well... I was just wondering if we could switch rooms.”

His brow crinkled. “I mean, sure, if you want. Any reason in particular?”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Because, well...” You couldn't make yourself say it, wishing he’d just realize what it was instead of you having to spell it out. You didn't want to make him feel bad, and you definitely didn't want to be the one to drag the memory of his ex into your vacation. “I just want to. I think a little variety would be good for you.”

He gave you a bemused smile. “Okay, honey. Suits me.”

You hugged him, needing him close, and he hugged you back with a tight squeeze.

“I sure do love you, sparrow,” he said with a happy groan. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you said contentedly. “For both things.”

When the sun started to sink and the air got colder, you made your way back to the cabin and started getting the bonfire going. Sam and Jake got the grill on, serving up a round of hamburgers and Sam’s very artfully crafted veggie sliders, and Josh made drinks while you and Baby helped Danny with the fire. Helped was a bit of a strong word, actually, given that Danny did most of the work, but he was grateful for your efforts all the same.

By the time the sun had set, the six of you were well on your way to being drunk. Josh was nothing if not a craftsman of strong drinks, and you all hung around the fire, tossing the football around and lounging in your camping chairs, talking and laughing and intermittently breaking out into song. The playlist you and Baby had curated was expertly tailored to the musical taste you shared with the boys, and none of them could resist a good tune.

“Listen to his tone on that,” Jake said to you, his accent slipping into tellingly British territory. He gestured with his cup, sloshing a bit over the rim. “I woke up and pressed my lips to a cup full of comfort, wrapped in the bliss of a golden shroud,” he sang, his voice raspy and warm. “God, that guitar sounds so cool.”

You smiled up at him, pleasantly buzzed and dreamy. “Not as cool as yours, honey.”

He grinned and gave you a kiss. “I like you. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Suits me, Jakey.” You draped your arm over his shoulder and let him sway you to the music. Your breaths came in silverly clouds, and you were thankful for his warmth in the chilly night.

He nuzzled against your jaw, breathing you in, humming along to the tune. “You smell good, sparrow.”

You giggled when his hair brushed against your neck. “Thanks. It’s just soap.”

“It’s you,” he said. “Sunshine and fresh air.”

“Well, I have been out in the sun and the woods all day,” you reasoned.

He kissed a loved mark against your neck, and you lost yourself in his touch.

“I have a theory,” he said after a moment.

You hummed. “What’s that?”

“You let me make love to you,” he said, “and I’ll make you the best love you ever had.”

You laughed. “That’s not a theory,” you protested. “That’s... a bargain, maybe, but not a theory.”

“Whatever,” he said. He pulled you close. “Bargain, theory, call it what you want. What say you, lassie?”

“Oh, there’s my pirate Jake,” you said, coy and affectionate. “I missed him.”

“He’s all yours, sparrow. Just say the word.”

You looked around the bonfire and saw Sam and Danny playing a card game, both of them laughing far more than any card game could make a person laugh sober. Josh and Baby were entangled in Josh’s camping chair, looking like they might very soon cross out that thing at the top of her list of things to do this week.

You had a mind to cross it off too, and as you’d been promised, Jake was more than amenable.

“Very well, Dread Pirate Kiszka,” you said, swaggering and posh. “As you wish.”

He grinned, wasting no time finishing off his drink and taking you inside. You were giggly and clumsy as you made your way through the dimly lit cabin, and you weren’t paying attention to where he was taking you until you passed the bathroom.

“Hold on,” you said, disentangling yourself from him. “Two seconds. Be right back.”

Going to find him after, you realized with a pang of chagrin that he was in the room he’d said you could move from. What’s more, he was absolutely dead to the world, spreadeagle on the bed with his shoes still on. You would have found it sweet and amusing — apparently even the promise of drunk pirate sex wasn’t enough to combat an unremembered number of tequila sodas — if you hadn't been so unhappy about where he’d fallen asleep.

You swallowed your feelings and gently took his shoes off, setting them neatly against the wall. Surely you could handle one night in this room; you wouldn't dream of bothering Jake by insisting he get up and move when he was already sleeping, not when the reason would be something as silly as your emotions. Getting undressed yourself, you got into bed next to him, trying very hard not to think of another girl who'd done the same thing in this very bed.

He roused just enough to move close to you, draping an arm over you.

“My love,” he mumbled, soft and sweet.

For some reason, you felt like crying. Couldn't he have called you his nickname for you, one you knew had never been used for another?

“I’m here, Jake,” you said softly. You pressed close to him, hiding your face against his shoulder, wishing you could forget every reason not to relax against him completely. Feeling the sting of tears that you knew you wouldn't be able to stop but would try to keep quiet, you weren't sure how successful you would be.

taglist: @viagvf @allieisacrybaby @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @anthemheatwave @xserenax-13 @musicspeaks @mountain-in-springtime

and some cabin fever besties who were excited for this one :) @shutupdevvie @gold-mines-melting @earthlysorrows @brooke-gvf

join my taglist here!

#okay what's up u guys 🧍🏻‍♀️#i hope you like it <3 #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka angst #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #cabin fever fics #maddie writes stuff!

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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months

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Have an angsty snippet of my Hobie Brown x Reader fanfiction lol

This is what I headcanon his backstory is something like

TW: Blood, grief, death, very minor fluff, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day (not really a trigger but whatever), Hobie's lines are bolded btw

A/N I KNOW GREEN DAY DIDN'T EXIST IN HOBIE'S TIME BUT I LOVE THIS SONG SO LET ME HAVE MY FUN 😭

~2k words

___________________

"Aww Hobes, what are you doing?"

A 9 year-old Hobie Brown looked up at his big brother, his stubby little fingers still attached the chords of the older boy's new guitar. "I'm just looking!" he replied with a cheeky grin, holding the guitar back when his brother tried to grab it.

"Oi, give it back you prick!" The boy laughed, trying to snatch it again. Hobie danced away giggling, holding the guitar over his head. "Come and get-HEY!" The older boy tackled Hobie to the floor and pried the guitar out of his hands, holding it back out of his reach.

"ABEEE!!" Hobie whined, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "Give it back!"

"You stole it first!" Abe giggled,

"You're a jerk!"

"Who taught you that word?" Abe asked, wagging his finger at his little brother teasingly. "You're too little to be using mean words like that."

Hobie groaned, turning away from his brother and huffing. After a moment, the older boy sighed and crouched down behind his brother. "Ya want me to show you a couple chords?"

Hobie's face lit up. "Yea!"

Ten minutes later, he was all bundled up in his brother's arms while he showed him the different strings. "Alright this one's A." Abe put three fingers on the guitar and strummed it. Hobie nodded along, the side of his head on his brother's chest.

"And this one's A7. This one's A minor, this one's B minor, and this one's B7"

"I can't remember all those!" Hobie groaned.

"Alright, alright!" his brother said with a laugh. "How about I play you a song instead?"

"Okay." Hobie pulled out of his brothers arms to sit back against the old, broken down couch, a smile on his face as he waited for his brother to begin.

The older boy smiled at his little brother, pulling his hair back before resetting the guitar in his lap, fingers pressed against the chords.

He began playing. It wasn't the original song, more of a quiet, sadder, solo version. Hobie closed his eyes with a grin, taking a deep breath in. Even if it wasn't the real deal, he loved listening to his brother sing. His warm voice, the sound of the strums...it made him feel safe.

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me, and I walk alone~

His brother hummed to the music, tapping his foot to the ground to follow the beat. Hobie followed, moving his head side to side with every tap, his fingers fidgeting together as he smiled up at Abe.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe was really all he had left. He used to have a lot of siblings, two sisters and one brother other than Abe. He was the youngest of the five and of course, the rowdiest. His parents had been pretty cool too, his dad worked at a radio station and his mom had been a stay-at-home mom.

I walk alone, I walk alone

His youngest sister had gone first. She was only a year older than Hobie, but she had been less than five pounds as a baby and always had problems with sickness and diseases. After the water had been contaminated by another one of Oscorp's toxic waste dumps...well she had been the first to go. Her and children from nearly every family in the neighborhood.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Then went his mother. She was so grief-stricken by his sister's death that she went into depression. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep, and eventually the water got to her too. They were buried only a few months apart.

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the borderline

Of the edge, and where I walk alone

His middle brother, three years older than him, went into a rage about the water. He was young, but old enough to do something about it. He went to the station and when they didn't do anything, he made a fuss. He wrote letters to the city board, protested in front of stations and then one day, they took him to jail. He was beat to death two days later, just a few hours before his bail was accepted.

Read between the lines

What's fucked up, and everything's alright

Check my vital signs

To know I'm still alive, and I walk alone

Eventually, the water was fixed. It became, not the cleanest, but better. Babies stopped dying. People were surviving.

Then the riots started.

People were angry. Everyone hated the police, the officers that patrolled the streets everyday yet did nothing to stop everyday crime. Fights would break out, shots would be fired, and eventually his sister, his oldest sister, got caught in the crossfire.

Someone had stolen her school bag. She asked the police officer nearby if he'd seen who'd taken it. She'd had her hands in her pockets.

He thought she had a gun.

He shot her.

And then there were three.

I walk alone, I walk alone

His father didn't let anything stop him. After his sister's death, he started using his job to make a difference. He spoke out about Osborne on the radio every day. He rallied people together, he told them not to take what was going on in the community.

And then Osborne himself came after him.

He took down his radio station, burnt it to the ground, and threw his father into jail. The poor old man couldn't stand it. He'd lost his wife, most of his kids...the stress was too much. Within months, he'd died too.

It was just Hobie and his brother left.

Him and Abe against the world.

My shadow's the only one who walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then, I walk alone~

Abe did a lot to take care of him. He sold their old, rackety house for a tiny apartment. He worked odd jobs day and night, trying to provide for Hobie. Instead of taking the risk of sending him to school, Abe taught Hobie at home. Especially math and science, something both of the boys shared a love for.

They grew close. Hobie loved his older brother, more than anything in the world. He looked up to him.

He wanted to be like him.

So of course, when his brother started pasting up punk posters next to the couch, bringing home crazy-looking albums and sporting spiked jackets, Hobie couldn't help but want to follow in his footsteps.

Even now, while he stared at his brother in such adoration, bundled up in blankets, half-asleep while Abe sang, he wanted to be like him. Tall, strong, always looking forward. A rock. A steady, strong, beautiful rock.

That's what he wanted to be.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone~

Abe finished, setting the guitar down with a sigh, gaze meeting his little brother's again. "How was that? I've improved, haven't I?"

Hobie practically jumped into his brother's arms to give him a hug. "Can you sing it again?" He asked tentatively, picking up the guitar.

"Aww, Hobes! I'm not doing that all again!" Abe said, shaking his head with a laugh. When he saw his brother's pleading expression though, he rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Fine. Ya little brat." He pushed Hobie off playfully before pulling up the guitar again and grinning a toothy grin.

_________________

10.5 years later

_________________

Hobie woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight. His face was wet, cheeks tearstained. What was that?

Abe...he'd completely forgotten about that memory. Hearing his favorite song for the first time. He held his chest tightly, taking deep, shaky breaths. Where was he?

Knocked out in an alleyway...he barely remembered what'd happened. The last thing he could remember was slamming into the wall, falling to the ground, and completely knocking out.

Except...something else had happened. It was only then when Hobie noticed his suit, which was newly black, with white lines. His jacket had disappeared, and the spikes that had used to be a part of it were attached to his suit instead. He pulled at his mask...but it wouldn't come off. It was stuck.

Shit.

He felt completely disoriented, that dream-no memory, had thrown him off. Of all the times he could've recalled that, it had to be now. Of all the times...

He missed his brother. When he reached his hand up to feel his mask, he felt it was wet. He'd been crying. But he'd also been knocked out.

What the hell?

It had to be the Venom. It was talking to him again...changing him. He couldn't let it take over again. He had to stay strong. Not just for himself, but for you.

He had to be strong.

Just like Abe had been.

_____________________

Full Fanfiction being written here:

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sungnxxn · 3 months

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ALLODOXAPHOBIA al-lo-dox-a-pho-bi-a is the fear of opinions. This phobia can manifest as a fear of being pressured by the opinions and expectations of others, including friends.

[college student!p.sh x female college student!reader] Genre: Angst Word Count: 1,135 Notes: BREAK UP!! (even two); Sunghoon is a jerk (ok,, ig??); written in third person; both Sunghoon and Jungwon are on the same Basketball Team; female!reader has kind of unhealthy coping mechanism; English is not my first language,, so bear with my grammar/spelling mistakes; inspired by the song: pale honey-friends PHULEASE,, read the authors note at the end,, shank yewww !!! DO NOT REPOST NOR TRANSLATE WITHOUT PERMISSION !!! :NOW PLAYING: 🎧 Pale Honey - Friends 🎸

1:19 ───|────── 4:09

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

A month had passed. Exactly a month since that one unfortunate night when their relationship ended. Since then, she had finally allowed herself to feel and breathe freely. She permitted herself to identify the sadness, the anger, the disgust, and the deep emptiness within her. Yet, she also granted herself healing and the assurance of her own presence and peace of mind. She made the decision to avoid any interactions with him at all costs, just to let herself breathe.

I set myself free in my own time now I'm all alone I really don't mind

At some point, she found herself in the stands of the basketball hall, there to show her support for Jungwon - her best friend of six years — who was ready to have a match with his team against the opposing school. As she sat there, she overheard some girls sitting in front of her gossiping about her and Sunghoon's past relationship.

Apparently, every time Sunghoon is asked about the reason for their breakup, he either shrugs it off by telling others that they didn't share the same trajectory or, if he's constantly pressed about it, he says they broke up because of a lack of time due to their tight schedules and exams. What a lie.

but would you leave it out when you tell everyone about us so much went so wrong between me and you

Trying to ignore the recently received information, she cheered silently for her best friend throughout the whole match, yet she was not able to shrug off the memories of her breakup with Sunghoon. Sunghoon has always been a man of pride, whether it was his grades, his looks, or his family's wealth. He always had everything he wanted. Yet, the only thing he did not have was a significant other. While all his friends were bragging about their relationships, Sunghoon could not help but feel pressured and down. So he decided to date her.

They met in a shared chemistry class, where Sunghoon desperately looked for a girl he could pick to be his girlfriend. He flashed his beautiful smile at her and arranged to meet up frequently, whether it was for their studies, the music they shared, or simply each other's presence. At first, he thought the feelings would come after a while, but they didn't, and he did not want to deal with that issue any further. He chose to ignore the tenderness and kept on feeding the facade of being in love.

After a while of dating, Sunghoon's constant way of vaunting about his girlfriend to his friends became very stressful and bothersome to her. She could not stand the pressure of always being the center of attention around his friends. She elected to calmly confront her boyfriend about the struggle she had been hiding deep down, which resulted in a heated argument. Sunghoon revealed his real intentions about their relationship, explaining how he just wanted to boost his self-esteem, to feel less left out, less pressured, and not embarrassed around his friends for not having a girlfriend.

She could not believe nor process the words that spilled from his mouth, so she just stared at him in disbelief. Sunghoon, not able to stand her silence, told her how much he cherished her just as a trophy to show around his friends, without having any strings attached. Soon after, she made the decision to end their relationship. Unable to look at his face anymore, she spared no time and stormed out of his college room to go to her own. Tears threatened to spill out, yet she did not cry. She did not want to cry. Arriving in her own room, she blocked his number and decided to go to sleep, just to ignore her own salty eyes.

now that it's done you can tell all your friends

After the match ended with a win for her school's team, everyone cheered loudly while she just smiled proudly at her best friend. The basketball players approached the stands, and in the crowd of the team, she noticed a familiar face—not her best friend's, but her ex-boyfriend's—Sunghoon. Sunghoon, running ahead of himself towards the stands, smiled brightly and hugged a tall and slim female figure, then a moment later, kissed her passionately. Seeing this, she looked quite shocked and felt a little bit hurt, but she hoped he treated that girl differently than he had treated her.

without me around you can take turns with everyone

Some time passed. Just as she was about to exit the toilet stall, she heard a girl running and crying into the stall next to hers, disrupting her peace. She decided to stay quiet, not wanting to startle the girl. Accidentally, she overheard the girl talking to someone on the phone. Through tears, the girl explaines how much she loved a boy and how hurt she felt after an argument a few minutes ago over a minor inconvenience. The girl continued, describing how the boy had said hurtful things to her, claiming he did not love her and that she was useless, only seen as another trophy by him. Hearing this, she froze on the spot, her own breakup suddenly flooding back to her.

She exited the stall in a hurry and walked anxiously through the school hall, her thoughts racing freely in her mind. She couldn't believe that the boy she once loved and cherished had turned into such a heartless pride machine. She could not believe that Sunghoon continued to break the hearts of innocent girls just to feed his own ego and impress his friends.

even now as I'm on my own it wears me down and I've lost control

Arriving at her dorm room, she lied in her bed and chuckled at her own hope of Sunghoon changing. Soon after, the chuckles turned into wholehearted laughter as she reminisced about the lies Sunghoon told his friends about their past relationship and their reasons for breaking up.

after all we've been through would you tell everyone leaving out how you made me feel and what went wrong

Right after, the laughter turned into single droplets of tears, which trickled down her cheeks as she realized how insecure Sunghoon must feel — unable to tell the truth and live authentically, wearing a mask while breaking hearts. She felt sorry for him, though she shouldn't have; after all, he had broken her heart. Yet here she was, and the world did not end.

now that it's done you can tell all your friends

At the end, their priorities diverged: she would prioritize her future significant other, while he would always prioritize his pride and his FRIENDS.

without me around you can take turns with everyone you can tell all your friends you can tell all your friends

Authors Note: Yellow yall,, my first ff on tumblr and ngl kinda nervous,, hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing this !! I am open for any improvements, so feedback is very much appreciated (the negative one as much as the positive),, take care everyone !! (?)

(06.07.2024)

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baronessblixen · 1 year

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Today's prompt: 30. "Are you with me?"

Fluff(?) post "Je Souhaite": Mulder wants to know what Scully's wishes would have been (wc: 831)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 10: Wishes

At first, he thinks she's asleep. He can't blame her for falling asleep watching Caddyshack. She's leaning heavily against him, head on his shoulder and hand over his heart. He's been secretly calling it the 'Scully position'. They end up like this on planes (no complaints) and now frequently in the mornings (again, no complaints). She sighs, and he realizes she isn't asleep at all, and just very, very quiet.

"Are you with me?" he asks.

"Where else would I be?" She leans her head back to look at him.

"You seem miles away."

"I'm watching your movie."

"It's not my movie. And I thought you didn't like it."

"I don't," she says with a chuckle. "I was just- I was thinking."

"At this time of day?" He feigns shock, making her laugh. "What were you thinking?"

"Did you really wish for world peace? Why?"

"Unlike you," he says, touching the tip of her nose, "I wasn't thinking. I thought that would solve everything. There are no easy solutions. It's like you said. Maybe our time here is to achieve all that. However, I fear humankind has a bad track record when it comes to peace. Let alone world peace."

"You tried anyway." He shrugs.

"You know me. Hey, what would you have wished for?"

"Mulder, you've seen what those wishes could do."

"It's just for fun. Come on. If there were no strings attached, what would you wish for?" She stares back at him, contemplating it. His heart inexplicably hammers in his chest. She may be fairly happy now, with him, but what if she wishes she could be somewhere else, be with somebody else?

"There are always strings."

"Just pretend, Scully," he says, daring her with a grin.

"Well," she says, moving away from him and putting her legs under her. Now they look like they're two kids at a sleepover, playing make-believe. She taps her finger against her lips, thinking. He watches her, mesmerized.

When he wished for world peace, and Scully wasn't there, it was as if his greatest nightmare had come true. He doesn't want to think about it anymore. He wished his last wish. At least out loud. He has a few he keeps to himself, close to his heart. There's one wish - no, hope - and that's being here like this with Scully. Spending the evening together cuddling, and watching movies. He never wanted to get out of the car. But maybe every once in a while they can take a break. Like this.

"I can't think of anything."

"Nothing?" he asks, moving closer. He knows she's only telling half the truth. She doesn't walk around, her arms wide open, wishing for the improbable. That's him. But he knows her and he can see it her eyes, The glimmers of hope and want.

"You don't wish for me to shut up?"

"No," she says with a smile, touching his cheek where his stubble is coming through. "I already told you, didn't I? I'm happy."

"You said fairly happy."

"Are we doing semantics now?" He knows what her greatest wish is. The one she's afraid to speak out loud. She's done it once before and it didn't work out. He almost wished it for her. Almost made it his last wish. I want Scully to have a child. But there were so many variables and so many ways he could have fucked that up. Now, no one can mess with Jenn anymore and she gets to be her own person, and maybe even get her own happy ending. Either way, she gets to live her life.

"You don't have to say it," he says, nodding more to himself. "I know. I know what you wish for and I do too." Her expression crumbles, a piece of sadness falling away. These days, she lets him see her vulnerability. She no longer hides it from him and he couldn't be more thankful.

He never wants to see Scully sad. Never. But now he gets to comfort her because she lets him in. Sometimes he has to climb her walls, but once he's there, she never pushes him away. It has been months since the failed IVF. They've carved a new path for themselves, but he knows that sometimes she's still looking back, wondering what could have been.

"Mulder, I-"

"You're fairly happy. I know. And I'll take it. That is, if you still want... me."

"Do you think I'd watch Caddyshack with just anyone?" She closes the distance between them, planting herself in his lap.

"I am happy," she repeats. "Here with you."

"Even when I make you watch Caddyshack."

"Even then. Even if you made me watch Plan 9 From Outer Space again."

"That's a classic, Scully. You get to choose the movie next time. Unless you-"

"You know what? I do wish for you to shut up now." She grabs his head with both hands and draws his face closer, kissing him like there's no tomorrow.

#fictober23 #i'm struggling i know #i'm just so damn tired #hey we're already 10 days in!#msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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mayiwritesomething · 5 months

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Love is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 9 - Final)

Wordcount: 2,7 k

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

A/N: Hi guys, thank you all for following this series that was quite fun to write. But like everything in life, we’ve got to the end of it haha

Don’t want to give any spoilers about it, besides the fact the reader cries listening to Arctic Monkeys (who has never?), the only thing i’ll say is that we have a quite happy ending, and I hope you like it 💖

I’m thinking about writing some more one shots about them, should I?

>MASTERLIST

———-

Home

The next day was a battle. Your head felt as heavy as lead when you woke up, unsure if it was from the two shots of whiskey or the tears you shed the night before. As you faced the breath of sobriety, you noticed missed calls from Jennifer and Colin.

Upon opening the group chat with the girls, you were met with a flood of messages and chaos. Some were concerned about you (you couldn't even recall the tear-filled voice messages you sent from the hotel), while others were hurling insults at Pedro, and the sober part of you felt bad reading those.

Scrolling through the messages, you came across a selfie Jenny had sent: she and Colin acting silly in front of the elevator mirror with the caption, "Colin says hi!" Despite your own misery, you couldn't help but feel happy for them. After all, you had been shipping these two for years.

As you continued scrolling, a notification from Colin popped up: “Forgive me now. Thank me later.” You were too miserable to comprehend what he meant, so you began tidying up your things to distract yourself. The need to immerse yourself in music to navigate through your cathartic moment and move forward grew stronger. With one month left of shooting, you couldn't afford to be unprofessional.

Opening your suitcase, you discovered one of his sweaters that you had planned to return to him if he were there now. Your Life Sucks playlist transitioned to Arctic Monkeys, and you found yourself lying on the bed, crying and singing, "Do I wanna know? If these feelings flow both ways... Sad to see you go. Was sorta hoping you’d stay…" Through sobs, you muttered, "Oh, my friend Alex... I'm so pathetic, oh my god," as you chuckled at your own disaster.

Still reclined on the bed, time slipped away unnoticed as an 80s ballad filled the room. Suddenly, the doorbell pierced through the melody, jolting you from your reverie. Rapidly, you silenced the song and glanced in the mirror, ensuring you didn’t look like a panda before rushing to answer the door. Why had Jennifer shown up unannounced?

Swinging the door open, you exclaimed, “Hey, early riser! What the fuc—Pedro?” Confusion swirled as you tried to comprehend how he found your place. Jenny wouldn’t have given your location, knowing your temper all too well.

“Hi,” Pedro mumbled sheepishly, “could we talk?”

“Firstly, how on earth did you find me?” You inquired, a mix of curiosity and annoyance evident in your tone.

“I had some help from your Irish friend,” he confessed, scratching his head trying to find the right words—a habit you found quite cute. “Oh, and I brought you some coffee— if you're up for a chat,” he added, his embarrassment palpable.

“Well, I suppose we both have things to discuss,” you conceded, feeling remorse for the events of the previous night but determined to clarify things.

“May I come in?” he requested.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, ushering him inside. He handed you a cup of Colombian dark coffee, your favorite, with a simple "thank you" from you. The atmosphere was oddly civil, considering the circumstances. Though no words had been exchanged yet, it was evident that both of you had let your guard down for the first time.

“Where do we begin?” he asked, his eyes betraying traces of recent tears.

“From the very beginning, where we both feigned indifference and claimed it was merely a casual thing with no strings attached,” you responded, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

"Wow, that was sharp," he quipped with a shy smile.

"Oh no, I'm just trying to be nice, given the circumstances," you remarked ironically.

"Can we just skip this teenage back-and-forth?" he asked, a hint of seriousness in his tone this time.

"Of course, dear. You've done nothing wrong, so you can ask for whatever you want," you said, settling into one of the armchairs in front of him, struggling to contain your sarcasm.

"I'm serious. Let's act like the adults we are. I know I've messed things up, but you're not a saint either, okay?" His Aries pride sometimes grated on you, despite how much he cared.

"Fine my love" you said, unable to hide your sarcasm, a defense mechanism he hated. "You show up at my hotel room uninvited; bring me coffee like we’re all good right after; firstly, treat me like a piece of meat the last time we had sex..."

"I was drunk. I know that's not an excuse, but—"

"You will let me finish before you dare to speak," You were on the brink of losing your composure, and he on the other side kept silent as you continued. "You have no idea how terrible I felt that day, and I still feel actually. And secondly, making assumptions? How many times have I talked to you about my friendship with Colin? I've never questioned any of your friendships—except for Kate, of course, which had my reasons to, and you know it " you chuckled to yourself before growing serious. "I have no problem admitting my mistakes. I provoked you by calling you a friend, which I know upset you. But it all traces back to our last night together. You seemed distant, like I was pressuring you into something you didn’t want to. I don't want to force you to do anything. I understand you have your own struggles, but I want you to understand mine as well." He was paying attention to your words, tears welled up in your eyes as you added, "What the hell are you so afraid of, dude?"

He was silent, but it wasn’t like he was throwing a tantrum; it was more like a kind of desperation, a fear of saying something he felt he shouldn't. “Pedro, talk to me,” you asked firmly. “There is no right or wrong answer; I just want to understand you, and I want you to understand me.”

He finally faced you, it was clear that he was searching for strength to spit it out. He finally said: "I’m afraid that you'll also leave me someday," his voice quivered, his hand trembling. He was visibly anxious. "I said those things to hurt you before you hurt me... because every time things start to feel right between us, it feels too good to be true, you know? I feel, i don’t know…like I don’t deserve it. Throughout the years, whenever I felt it was the right time, everyone…just… they just… left. So why should things be different now?" He held back tears as he gazed at you. "I wanted to be the one to walk away, not the one left behind," he confessed, searching for the right words. "But I… I can… I can’t just walk away from you, and that terrifies me."

You could sense his struggle, and despite your own issues, you were willing to give it a chance to make things clear. Seeing how difficult it was for him to express himself, you decided to do as you had suggested to him earlier: listen.

He continued, "While I want to be close to you, I fear you'll be my downfall. And it fucking hurts baby, it really does hurt. It's not that you're like a bad person, it’s the complete opposite, you're so fucking amazing." Tears streamed down his face as he faced you. "It's a kind of paradox that I can't escape... and you're like a calm presence amidst this chaos. Somehow, I don’t know... You manage to navigate through it… Despite your own issues and fears, you remain unafraid. I wish I could be like that. So I wouldn’t fuck things up and—“ he started crying nonstop.

"Hey..." You rose from your chair, for the first time, witnessing his true and raw vulnerability, a rare sight compared to your usual dynamic. While he was typically uninhibited, you tended to be much more reserved. Kneeling in front of him, you gently grasped his trembling hands, urging him to trust you. "Pedro, please look at me," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "Please... just look at me."

"I never meant to hurt you the way I did yesterday. I don't know why I—" he said through sobs.

"Shh, don't speak. Just try to listen," you interrupted, wanting him to find peace. You sought calmness, knowing you handled emotions differently from him.

"I never thought I could feel these feelings ever again—you appeared out of nowhere and… and… disrupted everything I've spent years building." He said it through sobs.

"By that, you mean the walls you've put up around yourself?" You questioned calmly, meeting his gaze. He nodded, tears glistening in his eyes again. Gently caressing his face, you offered reassurance. "I can't judge you. Somehow, you've managed to break down the walls around me as well. Even though you're quite different from anyone I've been drawn to before, you know?"

"What do you mean?" he inquired, trying to understand your words.

"You’re different from everything I’ve experienced—you're a friend, a caring listener, kind, intelligent, humble, funny, a bit stubborn, someone who admires and respects others," you began, opening up. "You're like a ray of sunshine after a storm, embodying everything that I am not."

"But… Why are you saying this?" he pressed, his expression reflecting a mix of curiosity and emotion.

"Because I want to do things differently this time.” You needed to say this. “I’m tired, you know? Not tired of you, I mean, in life in general… I’ve always been the one who kept my needs stored in a little box, waiting for the right moment to show them, and there is no right moment, man…There's no need to waste time hiding our true intentions, no desire to inflict or endure unnecessary pain like we both did to each other," you confessed, laying bare your intentions. “By the way, I’ve spent thousands of dollars in therapy all these years; I must make them worthy,” you added, trying to lighten the mood.

You felt his body relax under your touch, his tension easing. Continuing to stroke his hair, you remarked softly, “I never thought you were this fearful, Pedro. I am afraid too—all of this is new to me… I don't want to lose you or even walk away. But we need to take this leap together; we'll never know unless we try.”

“But... but I really don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

“There's no magic formula here. We were great friends before; now, we've added kissing and sex—amazing sex, I must add,” you quipped, eliciting his first chuckle.

“The way you put it makes it sound so simple,” he observed, visibly lightening up.

“Because it is. We've been seeing each other for months now. Our mistake was pretending it was casual when, deep down, we both knew it wasn't,” you emphasized. As he nodded in agreement, you continued, “Right from the start, we were both scared, hiding behind a facade of indifference like ‘oh cool, I like having sex and spending time with you’. —I care about us, about being with you, the real you. You can be honest with me, Pedro.” You needed to hear this from him. “Do you feel the same way?.”

“ I do. I want to be with you.” He said it once again, trying to find the right words. “You are everything that I always wanted. You are fuckin brave, fearless, wise, and a strong leader with a compassionate heart. You care for people’s wellness, command respect while remaining approachable,sexy as fuck…” You laughed at the small detail. “And you make me feel safer whenever I'm with you—sometimes I wish we had met before," he declared, now cupping your face in his hands.

"Things happen when they're meant to happen, Pedro. Remember how we first met in person? The fucking disaster," you remarked, chuckling softly as you held his hand that cradled your face. "Game of Thrones guy," you added with a smile.

“You should’ve seen your face the moment you saw me,” he chuckled. "Who would have imagined that nearly a year later, we'd be having this conversation?" he pondered.

"Definitely not me," you laughed.

Remaining in your shared moment, you both locked eyes for a few seconds. The tears had dried, and the silence was eventually broken by his whisper, "I'm sorry for everything I’ve done to you. I was an asshole—"

"It was a series of missteps from both sides," you murmured back, drawing closer to him. He instinctively drew you nearer, allowing your breaths to mingle. "Do you want to give us a chance? To try and make things right." Your voice was a gentle caress, melting into the air.

"I do, baby. I really do," he affirmed, cupping your face as he leaned in to kiss you tenderly. The weightlessness you felt after sharing your emotions made this kiss unlike any other; it wasn't a band-aid for past fights but a kiss brimming with genuine emotion. The way he held your face while you grasped his hand, the delicate touch as he guided you to sit on his lap. "I've missed you," he confessed, gazing into your eyes as his hands traced a path from your shoulders to your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

"I've missed you too," you murmured between kisses. "Well, I mainly missed your body a bit more, if you catch my drift," you teased.

"Are you going to bring that up every time now?" he chuckled, drawing you closer. "I know, that was terrible. I’m sorry."

"Oh, you bet I won’t forget this easily," you agreed playfully.

"Baby?"

"What is it?" You said.

"Don't you think the bed would be more comfortable?" You could feel him on you, so you knew exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, I think... I will start to have cramps in a minute too, I can feel it," you joked.

"And you're the younger one here," he retorted.

"Well, we both know I’m far from young, but at least my back is holding up well," you bantered.

"Fuck you," he countered, lifting you up as he stood to take you to the bed.

"Actually, it's you who's supposed to fu—"

Before you could finish, he silenced you with a kiss. "I'll take care of that," he assured, his lips grazing your neck before returning to yours. "And I'll take my time until you're begging for more," he promised, his laughter mingling with yours. “As you aaaalways do,” he added.

“I like the idea,” you answered, as he now had your shirt lifted and was tracing kisses all over your sternum. As your fingers ran through his hair, he came back to kiss you.

"Baby,” he said, hesitant as you just hummed in response. He then continued looking into your eyes and asked, “Are we like a ‘we’, like me and you?”

"Yes, we are baby,” you said, smiling. "Yes, we are.”

“I’m not saying that just to say, ok?”

“Okay”

“But I want you to know that i…well… i kind of... I… I mean….” he struggled to find the word.

"I love you too," you giggled. "And can you believe I'm the hedgehog here?"

"You're totally a hedgehog; there's no doubt about it, even after all this time," he grinned. "And you, well, you're a real firecracker." He playfully traced your lips with his fingers, making you grin back at him.

"Te amo," he said, hugging you close as you gave him a soft kiss. It was the first time you both felt a new kind of connection, like finding a comfy spot, just like home, that felt just right. After all this time, something you both tried to find was already there, it just took some time for you to see.

Love wasn't just a word for passion; it was a mix of little things that went beyond the butterflies and excitement of seeing each other. These were things you both naturally did even when you were just friends, and it felt pretty amazing.

“And I thank you for bringing me here

For showing me home, for singing these tears

Finally, I've found that I belong here”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedrohub #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro x reader #Spotify

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elli3luvs · 2 years

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could you do ellie x reader where ellie is the guitarist and the reader is like the lead singer of a band? 🥺

a/n: when ellie plays the guitar i lose it tbh... i did this in headcanons bc idk i like couldn't write for some reason today ITS NOT COMING TO ME :(( writers block

ellie became your guitarist by chance

you had known about her through mutual connections through jesse

and one day you were complaining about how your previous guitarist quit, he perked up

"i know a girl!"

since then she has been in your band

fans love her

and you... well you couldn't deny the feelings that were blooming for her

ellie had been by your side for many months, helping you get used to the touring lifestyle

she had been so kind and patient even when you were completely stressed and being rude

through that you have been feeling more and more into her

you were currently looking at her hands plucking at the string of her guitar

her hands strummed along the strings perfectly, the sound echoing through the backstage area

ellie looked at you with a smirk, "shouldn't you be warming up?"

you snap your eyes away from her hands, rolling your eyes, "shut up. i'm good."

ellie whistles at your confidence, "hopefully your voice doesn't crack on stage. howwww embarrassingggg." you reach out to slap at her but she dodges you with a chuckle

the little back and forth the two of you had always made your heart feel warm

ellie was always very helpful when you were trying to come up with more songs

the two of your would regularly sit and just kinda pluck strings and mess around on music-making software

you really admired how she put the band first in her life

everything she did was for the benefit of your band and the fans

"you know," you mentioned to her one day and she was scribbling some lyrics in a book, "you don't always have to be working on music."

she coolly responded, "what else would i do?"

the way you two got together was a little strange, but it fit the two of you

after a particularly successful show, while celebrating, she happened to lean down and kiss you

you looked at her in shock

she was just as shocked back

"do you like me like that or was that a fluke?" you muttered, heart pounding in your throat

she blinked rapidly, "i mean, yeah but if you don't like me like that then that was just a fluke. totally. of course."

you punched her in the shoulder and expressed your ever-mounting feelings

since then you guys were basically attached at the hip

ellie spends a good 90% of her time just kinda at your apartment

lingering like a ghost

you can't complain

she does buy groceries and cleans like a madman when she's not writing lyrics

you guys decide not to go public because it would just cause unnecessary attention

you would rather people focus on your music

ellie is always strumming her guitar, feet propped on your table in front of her

she is coming up with more and more songs

all romantic

you just roll your eyes at her when she gives you another sheet of sappy lyrics

"what!!" she throws her hands up, "it's how i feel. you can't keep getting upset that it's all romantic."

"they are too cringe, i'm sorry. i cannot sing these."

she acts like you shot her when you said that

fake crying and all

your favorite was right before shows though

she got all serious and pep-talked everyone in the band before coming over to you

her eyes softened slightly but you could still see the tension on her face

"you got this, babe," she kissed the top of your head, "don't stress."

you grabbed her hand, noting how cold it was, "you will do amazing, els. let's kick ass!"

it was great being able to date your guitarist

it made the whole musical process a lot easier and way more fun

(i hate this im so sorry)

#ellie williams scenario #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff

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hornyhornyhimbos · 2 years

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could u write something where sub spencer reid and afab reader have fwb but then reader gets all pissy and jealous after seeing spencer kiss lila and he has to make it up to her ?

hope this is ok! i'm not the best at writing fwb situations so i hope i did ok 😅

spencer insists it's only a kiss, but when you aren't so sure of it, he finds a way to make it up to you ♡

18+ as always, dom!afab!reader x sub!spencer, use of toys (bondage and vibrator), thigh riding, oral m!receiving, maybe edging and orgasm delay (?), nicknames (mistress, ma'am; good/big boy), explicit language, implied unprotected piv sex at the end, 1.2K words, beta read by @broken-stardust <3

filthy fridays | ask box

"it was only a kiss!" spencer insisted for probably the fifth time.

"spencer, i saw those pictures. i'm not stupid. you may have only kissed her, but you sure as hell enjoyed it and wanted more," you scoffed, flinging yourself down onto your mattress with crossed arms.

technically this started four months ago when you and spencer had first agreed to a no-strings-attached, sex-whenever-you'd-like relationship, but this particular situation started twenty-four hours prior. you had spotted a picture of spencer kissing lila archer, america's sweetheart, on the cover of one of those cheap tabloids you saw in the line at the grocery store. needless to say, you weren't happy about it.

he sat down beside you, placing a soft peck on your shoulder, and you rolled your eyes when you figured out what he was trying to do. still, he whispered sweetly, "i'm sorry, love."

you wanted to kill him, but you wanted to kiss him and accept his apology at the same time. "you are not," you grumbled, scooting away from him.

like the lost puppy he was, he followed behind you, nestling up behind you and trailing kisses up to your ear. "is there any way i can show you how sorry i really am?"

you raised an eyebrow, turning to face him. "what were you thinking?" you asked simply, a pout still sitting on your lips.

he looked down at his fidgeting fingers, his voice shy as he quietly answered, "i deserve to be punished."

his sweet, submissive tone was like music to your ears. "you're right. you do deserve to be punished. now, why don't you lay back on the bed for me?"

he did as he was told, lifting his hands to the bed posts where he knew you'd want to see them. with a smirk, you pulled the satin ties from your bedside table, wrapping them around his wrists and watching as his breathing increased.

"i think," you said, undoing his pants and dragging them down to his ankles, "prolonging the fun is a good punishment, don't you?"

he nodded, his teeth clamping down around his lip as he held back a whimper, your cold fingertips mesmerizing as they worked at the buttons of his shirt.

a shiver went up his spine as you moved a hand to his thoigh, tracing circles along the sensitive skin. you swore you heard his breath hitch as you so much as glanced at the tent in his boxers.

with the opposite hand, you reached in the top drawer for your secret weapon: your trusty vibrator. you pushed the 'on' button, watching as he squirmed in anticipation.

it was a rare occasion for you to use one of your many toys on him, but you watched as he writhed under your control, and you just couldn't stop yourself. "now, if you do as i say," you smirked, pausing to remove his underwear as slowly as possible, "i might let you cum. how's that sound?" you asked, your voice thick as you pressed the silicone to his hard shaft.

"yes, ma'am," he answered, watching as you moved the wand down to his balls, where you knew he was most sensitive. "fuck!" he groaned, his arms already trying to maneuver their way from his restraints.

"ah-ah," you tutted, "good boys don't squirm. they thank their mistress for making them feel good."

beads of sweat began to drip down his face and neck as he muttered out a, "th-thank you, mistress."

you smirked, removing the wand from his balls and placing it just inches away from him on the mattress. he whined at the loss of contact, his cock twitching while he watched you remove your pants. "bought these just for you," you smiled, doing a twirl and showing off the new lace panties you'd bought while he was away.

"b-beautiful," he sighed, brows knitting together as you reached for the vibrator again. "what are you-"

"shhh," you instructed, slowly lowering yourself onto his bare thigh, rubbing yourself ever so gently on his skin. "good boys always trust their mistress, ok?"

he swallowed hard as you pressed the vibrator against him again. "yes, ma'am," he answered, followed by a soft moan.

you slid your cunt against him, the friction absolutely intoxicating. "can i turn this up a bit? or will you cum before i say so?"

you knew he was lying when the crease between his eyebrows appeared. still, he answered, "i can take it, mistress."

"ok, baby." and with that, you pushed the button, the vibrations increasing just enough that he was becoming a whimpering mess.

you humped at his leg like a puppy yourself, watching as your slick glistened on his skin underneath the thin material. "oh, you're so good for me, baby," you mewled, grinding on him even harder.

you watched as his eyes squeezed shut, and you knew he was close. but you knew one other thing: you were going to cum first if it was the last thing you did.

"fuckfuckfuck!" he strung out, his head hitting the headboard with force. "i'm gonna-"

"oh, no, you aren't," you smirked, pulling the wand away from his length. "but i might," you moaned, riding his leg even faster than before.

"no! no, please!" he whined, his eyes darting open as he watched your movements, eyes mostly focused on the silicone in your hand.

"nope, good boys only cum when their mistress says it's ok to cum," you instructed, rolling your hips on him. "oh, fuck!"

your high washed over you, and you threw your head back with a string of profanities as you rode it out. your hips bucked and squirmed against his thigh, your lace absolutely ruined by your juices.

"alright, big boy, it's your turn now." without warning, you pressed the silicone to his balls once more. you moved from his thigh to sit between his spread legs, sinking your mouth onto him, suckling at his bright red tip.

"fuck, you're driving me nuts," he groaned, willing his eyes to stay open.

you released his dick with a pop, just long enough to say, "kind of the point, baby," before forcing him into your mouth again.

he squirmed, watching as your mouth worked its magic. he twitched inside you, making you gag as you finally forced all of his dick between your lips.

"so good to me, ma'am," spencer praised, his head falling back again. "shitshitshit!" his seed oozed down your throat, the salty taste a welcomed one.

you swallowed hard before opening your mouth to show him your accomplishment. "you taste so good on mistress's tongue," you said. your eyes darted down, landing on a couple of missed drops of his essence. "oh!" you exclaimed, licking a stripe up his balls where it had spilled. "couldn't let any of that go to waste, now could we?"

his eyebrows furrowed together as you stood and pushed down your panties. "what are you doing, mistress?"

you lifted your hips, maneuvering yourself upward. without hesitation, you eased yourself onto his length, your head hanging low in what could only be described as pure pleasure. "mistresses always reward their boys when they're good."

-> taglist: @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @broken-stardust @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold

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sandinthemachine · 2 years

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OBSESSED WITH THE PROMPT LIST OMG.

can i pls get a #6 and #13 under fluff with a little #10 under smut for ghost 👀👀

Ok I'm actually really proud of this one. Hope you enjoy, anon!

Words: 2584

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mild smut (thigh riding)

It had been a hell of a month. What was supposed to be a week-long reconnaissance assignment had turned into a wild goose chase of body doubles and, if you were being honest, actual bodies. On top of it all, now that you were back you couldn’t sleep to save your life. Too busy thinking about nothing. And about everything.

About the night in the safehouse after everything went to shit. The way Ghost’s hand had brushed over your back as he nudged you aside to take the first watch. You ought to rest. You look like hell.

About the way his voice had changed, pitched slightly higher, when you had dragged yourself back the next day with a broken radio and some nasty scrapes. Good to see you alive, love.

Love. He’d called you love. He’d never said that before.

He was English. They call half the girls they meet love.

It didn’t mean anything.

It might just mean everything.

It was too much. Too much and not enough, and you were sick of it.

So here you were, sipping beer on the beat-up common room couch and texting an old friend. Well, you weren’t sure if ‘friend’ was the right word. You just knew ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t. It was a casual fling you’d started up the last time you were stationed here. He had been between jobs at the time, looking for some stress relief, and you had told him you were there on a business trip. It had been…nice. He was easy to talk to, blissfully ignorant of your real job, and happy to keep things no-strings-attached.

After two miserably sleepless nights back, you had figured why not and messaged him again, fully expecting him to block you.

He’d responded immediately. Happy to hear from you, he’d said. Let me take you out sometime? Still casual, you thought. Just a little…less than before.

You let out a breath through your teeth, fingers hovering over the keyboard and the text you’d left on read all day. “Eh, what the hell,” you mutter to yourself.

What are you up to tonight?

Finishing up work. I can pick you up in an hour and a half?

No need. Tell me a place, I’ll meet you there.

You hope he still has the same bed, the magnificent king-sized mattress you could drown in. That would put you right to sleep. Well, that and an orgasm or two.

You smile at yourself. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

Ghost would never tell you directly, but he had been looking for you. You’d all but disappeared when everyone came back from the mission, sticking to your own barrack and making food in the microwave. He could hear the beeping through the wall, and knew you weren’t eating enough.

He had barely slept since the team had got back. Too busy remembering.

Remembering the way your eyes had stared back at him when he’d tackled you to the ground out of a sniper’s way. They’d been almost soft. Too soft for the brick-and-metal battlefield, shrapnel sharp and made to kill. Too soft for him, born to perfectly fit that battlefield. Born to die there, too.

Remembering the way your fingers had tightened around his wrist when he helped you up. Like he was a glass ornament, handled with gentle reverence. More than he had deserved. So much more.

You probably would have done the same with any of the men.

It didn't mean anything.

It meant everything.

The mission had failed on his watch. He was responsible for dealing with the fallout, even if it was just emotional. He was responsible for everyone on the mission. He’d do this for any of them.

So he kept telling himself.

By the time he found you, you were already heading out, rushing past him with a hasty nod. He catches a whiff of your perfume and forgets himself for a second, pausing to inhale.

The door is halfway closed behind you when he finally calls your name, and you freeze, eyes fixed on him.

“Where are you going?”

You shrug. “Out?”

His eyes scan your figure, the nice jeans you’d picked out, the silk shirt. You’d even done your hair. You looked…

You clear your throat, breaking him from his reverie. You’re giving him a confused look. “You okay, Ghost?”

He inhales again, wiggling his shoulders and squaring them again. He should ask where you’re going, he thinks, make sure you’re safe. No, that’s stupid, you can take care of yourself.

He wonders if your hair is as soft as it looks.

You look even more confused now, eyebrows coming together, and you finally let go of the door, stepping back inside towards him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he grunts back without thinking, and you jump back.

“Oh, alright, well, then I gotta-”

“Wait,” he blurts, cutting you off. “You mind if…mind if I join you, love?”

You inhale sharply, clamping your mouth shut over your tongue. “Oh, I actually, uh, I’m…sorry, I’m meeting someone.”

He leans back as if you’d struck him, and you can see his shoulders tense even under his clothing.

You want to reach for him suddenly, but it feels wrong, so your fingers clench around themselves instead. “Simon, I-”

“Don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t go on a date.”

Your words catch in your throat, lodging themselves tightly as your heart twists. He’s not serious. He doesn’t really mean it like that. “Why?” you choke out.

He takes a step towards you, leaning over you, dark eyes appraising all of you. “You know why.”

You shake your head at him, taking your own step forward, leaning up to his face. “Say it,” you whisper.

His eyes widen, and the fabric of his balaclava flexes as he opens his mouth.

And freezes. What if he says too much and scares you away? What if he says too little and you don’t understand? What does he even say? What if-

He looks away, fixing his eyes on the wall and trying to think.

Your heart drops at the movement.

With a sigh, you turn and walk out the door, closing it softly behind you. He makes no move to follow you.

The restaurant is a lot nicer than you expected. As is your date. He’d done his hair up, picked out his best button down and dress pants. All for you, he says, as he tells you his craziest work stories. Stuff like file cabinets getting knocked over and birds flying in through a window. You remember the time Soap got hit by a stray bullet flying through a window. Trying to shake the thought, you give your date a smile. It never reaches your eyes. He never notices.

When the food comes you find yourself eyeing the small portion, perfectly plated with a sauce drizzled artfully across it.

It reminds you of the time you’d gotten sick after a 12-mile ruck in the pouring rain. Ghost had raided the kitchen to make you soup, serving it to you with a bent spoon and a gruff apology. All we have, he’d mumbled.

The soup had been way too salty, the bowl way too big for you. You’d finished it all.

You curl your fingers around the fancy silverware, inlaid with intricate metal swirls. The delicate piece feels wrong in your calloused hands, reflecting the fingernails you’d finished scrubbing mud out of only an hour earlier.

The food is perfectly salted. You want to cry.

“Hey, you alright?” You look up to find your date leaning over the table, eyes wide and concerned. “Do you want to talk?”

All you can manage is a small shake of your head. “Sorry, I…I need to go.”

Your chair scrapes raucously against the fancy floor as you get up, and everyone turns to look at you, their perfectly manicured fingers clutching wine glasses. Gentle unmasked faces looking at you with concern. Fancy dress shirts and cocktail dresses crinkling as they turn to get a better view.

You storm out, your boots too loud, your steps too heavy, your shoulders set too stiffly, the muscles of your back flexing awkwardly against the soft fabric of a shirt tailored for someone much more…soft than you. Someone like them.

You hadn’t finished your food, hadn’t even thought to bring a jacket, and as the blast of cold outside air hits you a choked sound escapes your throat.

You won’t cry. Not like this. Not here. So you grind your teeth together, folding your arms tightly against your torso and marching forward. The walk is far less than 12 miles, and it’s not even raining. You’ll be fine.

You can’t feel your toes by the time you get back, shutting the door silently behind you and creeping into the kitchen for something, anything warm. You flip the light on, shaking and distracted.

He’s there. Of course he’s there. His head whips towards you as you stand there with your finger hovering over the light switch, your name falling from his lips unbidden.

He rises slowly, prowling towards you like a wolf, only to pause as he notices the spasms wracking your body. His hands reach out to take hold of your shoulders. “Fuck’s sake, love, you’re freezing.”

His hands feel like a furnace against you, and you sigh at the contact, closing your eyes and forgetting the world for a second, forgetting all about the past few hours. Even at arm’s length you feel the heat radiate from his body, and your eyes open again, flicking over his chest and up to meet his own.

He huffs, eyes scanning the room before opening his arms. “Come here, then.”

You practically leap into him, clutching his shoulders tightly and burying your face into his shirt. He bends a little, and you squeak a protest before feeling his arms wrap around your thighs and hike you up so you can wrap your legs around him as he carries you to your room, settling you down on your lumpy cot. Wordlessly he goes to your closet, pulling out all your extra blankets and wrapping them tightly around you before settling in behind you, pulling you against his chest. “You know,” he grumbles. “If you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

You scoff, shoving your shoulder into him. “What do you mean extremes?”

He sways at your push, tilting his head and giving you a look. “I mean storming out and freezing your ass off.”

“I did not-”

“You did,” he cuts you off, leveling a glare at you, but a second later his shoulders sink in a little and his eyes wander. “How was your…” he trails off, eyes meeting yours again.

You shrug. “Left early.”

“Why?”

You lean into him, inhaling the musky smell clinging to his clothes. Cologne and gunpowder and woodsmoke. “You know why.”

His grip on you tightens, but he keeps his eyes on you. Your body shifts as he heaves a great breath, releasing it through his nose. It tickles your eyelashes, and you bite your lip.

His gaze shifts down, focusing on the reddened skin where you work your lip between your teeth. When he speaks, it is barely above a breath. “You never let me finish earlier.”

You lean in closer, and he feels your breaths tickling the edge of his balaclava.

He tears his gaze up, raising a hand to cup your cheek as he looks into your widening eyes. “Don’t go on any more dates. Not unless,” he clears his throat, swallows, “unless I can come with you.”

Your teeth release your lip, the flesh popping outwards. “Simon Reilly,” you croon, and his breath hitches. “Are you asking me on a date?”

His chest heaves another large breath. “I am.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

His eyes fall to your lips again. “Then do it.” At your shocked expression he forces a huff of laughter, reaching up to shove his mask just high enough to reveal soft lips.

You pause at that, your fingers tracing up along his neck, thinking of your own chapped lips, beginning to worry.

But then he leans forward to meet you, and you stop thinking entirely.

He’s gentler than you thought he’d be, lips slowly moving against yours, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other snaking around your waist as he shifts you both, settling on the edge of the bed with you straddling one of his legs.

His mouth stays open just slightly when he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own, eyes so dark you can scarcely tell where the pupil ends and the iris begins. Or perhaps it’s all pupil. You’re sure yours are.

You lean into him, pulling him back in. His fingers run up your spine, causing your whole body to shiver, a vibration you feel straight in your core. He shifts, pulling you in closer, and his thigh flexes, rubbing against you, and you whimper.

He pulls back again, eyes glinting, and you smirk. The blankets have long since fallen off you, the cold creeping back into your bones. “You know,” you whisper. “I can think of some faster ways to warm me up.”

He chuckles. “I bet you could.”

You brace yourself on his shoulders, rubbing yourself against his thigh and shifting to guide his hand down.

He only tsks at you. “Not yet.” You make a frustrated sound, tightening your fingers around his wrist, but he only leans back, pulling his hands away to prop himself up on them. “Gotta warm up first, love,” he hums at you, grinning.

“Simon,” you plead.

“No whining,” he orders, voice taking on a gravelly undertone as his grin morphs into a smirk. “It’s my thigh or nothing, I’m not helping you get off.”

You huff, but bring your hands back to his shoulders, looking down as you slowly start to grind into him, gradually picking up your pace, your breathing beginning to hitch. He shifts, and you look up at him, his eyes watching you as he leans up again. A hand rests on your hips, another tangling in your hair. It’s even softer than it looks, he thinks, and before he knows it he’s breaking his own word, bouncing his leg into you, savoring your moans as he feels your fingers tighten around the muscles in his shoulders, shaking as you get yourself more worked up. You’re nearly frantic now, and he pulls your hips, grinding you into him harder, and finally you break with a cry, feeling a wave of heat wash over you as vibrations run up your core and your legs quiver.

You’ve barely recovered when his hands yank you flush against him and he twists, pinning you to the mattress with a growl.

“My turn.”

You wake the next morning to the mattress shifting as Simon settles down on the edge. You hadn’t even noticed him get up.

“I made you tea,” he grunts, turning to present you a chipped and faded old mug. “Only mug I have,” he grumbles, but you’re already sitting up and taking it from him.

“It’s perfect,” you hum, taking a sip. It’s just a little too sweet, and the chipped mug is a little too big, but the beat-up texture feels perfect in your rough hands. It’s all perfect. You give him a grin so big your eyes scrunch up at the corners.

Fucking hell, he thinks. How did I wait so long?

#cod #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader

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