#this almost happens all the time but usually i refrain

[gxlacticlove]

tfw one song from npmd comes on shuffle and suddenly you have to listen to the whole album

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty

Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well. 

I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3.  Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened

p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),

—

When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you. 

They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all. 

You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list. 

Until one of them changed your mind. 

It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty. 

‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath. 

Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.

As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne. 

‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.

‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’

You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’ 

Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl. 

‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.

‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile. 

‘’They were really good.’’ 

‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.

Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice. 

The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses. 

Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back. 

From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself. 

He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.

You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college. 

‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’ 

You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.

Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’ 

He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating. 

Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later. 

You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home. 

Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs. 

‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’ 

He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck. 

The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing  in the parking lot. 

Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.  

You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends. 

You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them? 

Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship. 

You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier. 

He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place. 

He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away. 

Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.  

‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’

Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.

He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’

Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’

You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game. 

Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’ 

‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’ 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  

Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it. 

It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later. 

When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him. 

He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.

The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.

His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl. 

''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.  

The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again. 

Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.

He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’

You hummed, although confused where he was going with this. 

‘’This is better.’’ 

Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm. 

The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.

You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.

Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.

Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.

‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast. 

It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions. 

He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight. 

You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing. 

Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing. 

You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’ 

He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.  

‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway. 

You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy. 

‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter. 

You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''

Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.

You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…

‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.

Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''

‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed. 

It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself. 

His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  

Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.

You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.

Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him. 

More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.

Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.  

You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose. 

Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.

‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.

‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.

You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’ 

‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’

‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.

Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’ 

Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.

The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.

Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand. 

‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’ 

He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now. 

You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’ 

Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire. 

You didn't mean to. It was an accident. 

The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him. 

When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.

Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice. 

You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up. 

Your morning coffee was calling your name.

Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands. 

You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax. 

He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.

‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’ 

Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’ 

His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.  

‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.

He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’

‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.

Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’

You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’ 

To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom. 

‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder. 

You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’ 

‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 

When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday. 

Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom

You: You found us bus tickets? 

Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨

You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀

Jace: He’s not

You should have known it would be him. 

Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.

Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music. 

This weekend was looking to be long and difficult. 

Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving. 

''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.'' 

''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''

Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?'' 

Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?'' 

At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.  

When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room. 

You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture. 

Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew. 

You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated. 

Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake. 

‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say. 

He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom. 

So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.

‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.

Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice. 

Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''

You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’

‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.

At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.

At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up. 

‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?'' 

You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.

The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either. 

‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.'' 

You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug. 

Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food. 

You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.

Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.

‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''

The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.

You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you. 

You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you. 

Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’

‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.

Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’ 

Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.  

Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide. 

Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’

‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true. 

The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.

Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face.  ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’

‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.

But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’  

He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you. 

‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.

Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’  

The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances. 

What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway. 

You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms. 

The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.

The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it. 

It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.

—

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[sushirrrry]

EXECUTIVE a harry styles one-shot smut blurb; 19.3k words cw: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dom/sub, breath play, dirty talk.

"If they want the fucking numbers, they've got to stop being pussies and give us the fucking reins. I'm not sitting around and waiting for their stock to crash and for their stupid, fucking minions to come back on me to tell me what I already knew and told them from the start—I'm not painted out to be the biggest fucking moron, that's for certain. It's either a deal or it isn't, plain and simple. If they don't want to have that fucking conversation, it's done. Fuck them and their stupid fucking counteroffer. It's a fucking slap in the face, and I'm not even entertaining the idea."

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear, clicking on End Call before he threw his phone over and onto the wooden desk that sat perpendicular to the vicious New York skyline. His heart raced as he shook his head.

An adrenaline junkie like him fed off of the conversations like these.

His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, his eyes navigated towards the contractual wreckage of paperwork that had seemed to be forgone on his desk as he pushed some of it to the side. His elbows leaned on the desk; his hands tied together as he rested his lips again them in a precocious thought.

Running the company came with a sharp tongue and a knack for knowing when it was time to push back. Harry was a mogul in all of the sense of the word—his company had grown to a gargantuan size, which allowed his position within the business to skyrocket to a level that was so without fail that he couldn't believe it sometimes.

His mouth got the better of him; in some ways, it created the effervescence of attack. It was all that he could do to keep himself from picking the phone back up and telling them to shove it all back up their ass—he refrained for the time being, until he was pushed again.

But no one usually poked the bear unless they truly believed they had a chance in slaughtering them. Mr. Styles was far too confident in his work and his business to ever let that happen.

The bear's claws reacted too quickly for the barrel of the rifle to even face him.

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"

His eyes raised to the door that he hadn't seen opening before his lips parted just a bit to answer the woman questioning him. She wore a black skirt with tall, black boots that suited the length of her legs. Her top arranged in a bit of a messy manor, but it was almost as if she had styled it that way to add a bit of flare.

Her blazer hung a bit low—practically to the mid-length of the skirt that rode up her thighs, but he wouldn't have been caught dead staring. In public, anyway.

His eyes made their assessment of her quickly before returning to her naturally, raspberry lips that took up much of her lower face. The natural length of her smile was perfectly proportioned, not that he had spent much time thinking of it, of course.

Felicity—his assistant. The one with eyes the color of the ocean that he would vacation on in the Maldives; the most piercing, stunning blue. The quiet one, a bit shy in her reservations, almost like she was the smallest fish in the ocean made entirely of sharks. Her reservations to others seemed to aid in bulldozing over her confidence, but to Harry, it was an enticing spectacle of fantasy.

A fantasy he'd promise to never share with even his closest comrades, if an NDA wasn't in place, that is.

The dark brown locks settled against her back in heaps of loose, voluminous curls as she held tightly to the phone behind her fingers.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked, her question a bit hesitant as she didn't seem to move any further forward into the large space of his office.

"No—no, you're not," He told her, "Come in, Felicity, I need to use your brain for a moment."

"My brain?" She asked him, cocking her head a bit.

That was the thing about Felicity that almost made him foam at the mouth– her way of innocence and contemplation that allowed him to see his viewpoints from her standpoint.

Harry's company was outsourcing most of the global news which meant that he oversaw several departments within. His leadership was only as good as the recommendations and guidance that Felicity was able to provide him; her devil's advocacy, her interpretation of empathy, and being able to see how interactions happened without Harry present versus the other sense.

Felicity was a practical need in his company for various reasons, not one to just make his blood boil and frantically move around his veins every time he caught a whiff of the coconut lime scent that his mind had become familiar with.

She was a calmness to him in many ways, so her presence now settled his heartbeat from the previous conversation.

"That deal we're making this afternoon, I just got off the phone with Sadler and they're folding– they're becoming weak. And it's pissing my off. They're coming to me to help solve their issues, because they know I can do it. They're , but they know we'll do it. Which pisses me off because it makes us look weak if we just say yes."

Felicity blinked a few times as she watched Harry's reaction, her legs crossed at the feeling before she held her hands in front of her and nodded.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth before he shook his head, a few of loose curls settled on his forehead as he pushed them back and Felicity wished that he hadn't.

"I think you're going to push them to do it without the counter," Felicity nodded. "From what I'm hearing, they're folding, and they can see that what we can provide is significant. Especially in terms of the election. We can do it– you can do it."

His eyes flew to her word change, noticing that her eyes had moved away from him. The subtle blush of pink ate away at her cheeks before Harry nodded in his own satisfaction.

"Enough about me," He shook his head, "What did you need, Felicity?"

Her eyes raised as it seemed she came back to conclusion about what she had been there for to begin with.

"Oh, I just talked with Nava at PLI and they wanted to express their gratitude towards you, because they said that you helped them with understanding the fundamentals of their offer and I thought it sounded like a for-sure deal– I just wanted you to know that Nava is a yes," She nodded and raised her brows again in remembrance, "Oh! And I'm also running to pick up some coffee and snacks before the board meeting. Flat white?"

Harry smirked at the praise from her, watching it leave her lips effortlessly. He nodded a few times at her question before he rose from his chair and grabbed the tie around his neck to loosen just a bit.

Harry grabbed the paperwork off of his desk before he moved towards the door and guided Felicity to follow. "Yes, please. A flat white with cinnamon, maybe a pump of caramel? What do you think?"

The words were like a question as Felicity walked next to him through the natural, brightly lit office. Her fingers tapped away at the device before she noticed the slight edge of the spicy cologne that wafted from his demeanor as he turned his head toward her.

"I'm not a huge fan of caramel," She stated a bit hesitantly as they stopped in front of one of the offices where Harry was about to go into a meeting.

He looked at Felicity as they stopped, his eyes moving up and down as he went from her lips to her eyes as if involved in a game of ping-pong.

"What do you like, then?" His words were soft, fluid.

Felicity swallowed as she shook her head a few times and nibbled on her lip. She hummed for a moment, "Um, I prefer vanilla."

The corner of Harry's lip moved upwards. "Make it a hot flat white with an extra shot of espresso, cinnamon, and a pump of vanilla, please."

Felicity wrote it down in her notes, but her fingers almost shook with adrenaline as she felt his gaze linger on her without her noticing before she nodded. "Great. I'll– uh, I'll leave now so I can be back in time to make sure you have what you need."

Her feet started to move away before she heard the booming sensation of her name. The way that her eyes fluttered back at him made Harry almost take a step backward.

"Uh," He felt speechless at the sudden look of her, "Please get whatever you need, too." He felt the professionalism start to creep its way back in. "Can't have you falling asleep on the job, you have notes to write."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek before she nodded. "Yes, sir."

With that, Felicity turned her back and started to head down towards the elevators. Harry turned to make his way into the boardroom where he saw the table sitting and waiting for his arrival.

The hush that fell over the crowd made him shutter every time– the power he held echoed through his conscious at every moment it could.

He only smirked as he sat at the head of the table, pulling himself to sit up and lean on the table before he looked up to see the many eyes staring back at him.

"Shall we get to work then?"

__________________

"This coffee is fucking cold."

One of the board members pushed it away after taking a small sip, as Felicity had just sat it down in front of him.

It was an older gentleman– Hank– who had worked with the Styles family for many years and been able to help SCO with their major launches with other shareholders. His entitlement was present in the room, which pressed on her ego just a bit. Her head turned towards him as she shook hers.

A woman at the end of the time made a face as she looked at the side of the cup, "Ordered a fucking latte—they even messed it up and it's cold. The coffee shop is just down the block."

Felicity tucked some hair behind her ears as she shook her head in a bit of disbelief as she tried to find the receipt that the coffeehouse had given her. There wasn't any way that they gave her the wrong order, but she didn't know if there may have been a mix-up in who she gave the coffees to.

"T-That's impossible—I just order—" But she was cut off by the man who licked over his lips and held his hand up to stop her words from even echoing in the room at all.

"Just go get some hot coffee, would you?"

Felicity's eyes blazed around the room as she noticed that the others had practically ignored her efforts of the two full cardboard contents of coffee cups that she had practically run the streets of New York to pick up. Not only were they not even acknowledging her, but they were condescending in her efforts. Yes, she was an assistant—she wasn't their assistant. It wasn't her fault that she was one person, but she knew that she had to try harder to make the best impression that she could.

"Everyone just shut the fuck up and drink your coffees, would you? Our deadline is in six fucking hours. If you can't handle a little lukewarm coffee, get the fuck out of my office. I pay too much of your goddamn salaries for you to cry like a fucking baby."

Harry's eyes moved to the nervous-looking girl who stood by the door, along the edge of the buffet that held the rest of the coffee, donuts, and bagels that had practically been falling out of her arms when she arrived.

He couldn't tell—it may have been the lighting, but her eyes looked glassy as she tried to stand with her shoulders back. Harry caught her attention before she threw herself back together and walked over towards him, leaning down to where he sat at the table.

"I can run to go get something else, I don't think it would take too long, you know. Or I could order it to be delivered?" Felicity asked, a bit cautious, he could tell. But her piercing blue eyes were practically a shade of gray as he looked at them through her thick, tortoiseshell glasses that complimented the brightness of her eyes.

His eyes fell to the way that the chapstick she always applied gave her lips the most subtle peony color—so pink, but so natural. He thought that may be a better place for his eyes to land instead of directly into her eyes, but then he panicked for a moment and turned them back to her eyes.

"That's not necessary." Harry shook his head, answering for the individuals in the room. Even if they pushed their coffee aside, Harry would have never blamed it on Felicity for any failure—it wasn't her fault. He took a sip of his own; to his dismay, it was a bit cold, but he wasn't going to complain about it.

The stature of Felicity at the door made him take in a deep breath before he caught her attention, asking her to come towards him with just a look before she was practically on top of him. Her willingness to do as he said gave him a feeling of endorphins that were unlike any he had before.

Harry looked up at her from his seat, licking over his lips softly.

"Please make a reservation for two at The Malbec tonight at nine—whether or not these jackasses are going to be done working, I sure am, and I'm going to celebrate it. Add that I would like the executive seating and the Pauillac on the table, not chilled."

She nodded a few times at his requests, adding it into her notes on her phone before she looked back at him cautiously.

"Should I be arranging a car to pick someone up for you?" She asked. Her teeth scraping against her bottom lip as she waited for his response.

Harry shook his head back at her before filing through a few papers, "Not necessary today. Just make sure that you're not off the clock yet," He nods, "In case something doesn't go as planned."

Felicity nodded at the feeling of his eyes on hers before he turned to face the table before him.

"Someone get John on the phone," Harry ordered, his eyes going towards, "Hank. I want their numbers for the day and the plan for the fiscal year. I want to hear it from their lips, the spreadsheets don't mean shit if they're just going to lie to my face. Mary, contact PLI to get their rates."

Felicity had started to make her way towards the door, back towards her desk that sat in the main office towards Harry's own private one, before Harry called her back, "Felicity, sit in this meeting, will you? Grab your computer."

Her eyes narrowed at him in a bit of confusion before he stood up and grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it to the spot next to where he was, at the head of the table.

Felicity did as he wished, leaving to grab her laptop and notebook essentials that she used to keep track of his days, his weeks. When she arrived back, she could feel a few eyes on her as they talked through the deal with John. The silence in the room as he spoke over the speaker was deafening before she sat down at the spot next to Harry.

His focus on the conversation made her attention turn towards him.

Working at SCO was one of Felicity's highest honors—she felt that her confidence was gained just by being in the room with some of these people. But, at the same time, she wondered at what point this would all get to her. She wasn't like this—she didn't have the same cutthroat mindset of tearing another down to get herself to another place.

In some respects, that's what was the balance between what Harry was and what he knew that he needed. He needed someone like Felicity to sit next to him—a calming sensation that he didn't ever notice until he would garner a sniff of the coconut shampoo that drifted from her silky chestnut hair.

It was sickening at times—the way he felt about her. When he was sitting next to her now, he watched as she let her fingers grace over the laptop keys, focused in on whatever task she was working on. His eyes moved away when he watched as her teeth loosened on her lower lip, letting the plumpness of it a drawback to a straightened line of her mouth.

He shifted in his seat as he felt himself get a sensation of pressure below the belt.

When he spoke, it was with a confidence that she couldn't seem to place. It was as if he could break and make with just words alone, a skill that he had to have been born with.

As they discussed the offers more in-depth, Felicity found herself distracted from her own work as she let her eyes gently maneuver back to where Harry sat at the end of the table. Her fingers practically stopped typing as she listened to the conversation and watched as his brain work in overtime.

It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.

The narrowing of his brows, the calculated glance at the table as if he could cut through it with just his sight, the determined clench of his jaw.

"Don't fucking low-ball this," Harry practically snarled as he tapped the point of his pen to his notepad. "I know what's best for this company and we don't want people who underestimate the work and quality of our services. Globally, we're ahead of the entire market– we beat out every major network in significance. If you truly want to hand us a shitty number like that, you'll fucking fall. Your company will fail, and we will continue to sit right at the top as you lick the dirt off our shoes. It's not a competition; we've already won. So, do you want to win with us? That's the question here."

There's a slow chuckle on the phone, a bit of silence, too. Felicity looks up from her laptop to watch as a few members whisper to one another before hearing John on the other end.

"Listen, it's– we understand this. SCO is globally leading, but this is an election year– how are we supposed to gain traction when the news sources from SCO are against the current climate? We just don't see the same vision right now and we need to make sure our values are aligning– SCO may not be leading once the election happens."

Harry's eyes don't dim– Felicity watches as he turns different, his focus staying on the notepad under his fingers as he takes a beat before he stares at the phone in the middle of the table.

Her leg crosses under the table, gently caressing his unbeknownst to her. His eyes falter for once, as she retracts her position when she watches him crack for the first time. She noticed that he faltered but only a small huff of his breath before she bit her lip.

"We're a multi-billion-dollar company that focuses on the current political climate at hand since we completely understand the market, unlike someone who needs to be bought out to ensure that they don't sink. If you're just sitting in the open water, we will look the other way when a shark comes by," Harry shrugs, "I don't quite understand your vision of understanding moral compasses when you're sitting on significant lawsuits and company fouls that don't seem to benefit you right now or the lying, cheating words that come from your mouth."

Felicity's eyes flew up from her place at the table, watching as she saw everyone else's down. It was an unmistakable feeling of vigor that suddenly oozed from the place of Harry's seat. His demeanor was powerful, it was penetrable.

The quietness over the phone doesn't seem to faze anyone else, but Harry's eyebrow arches at the seconds that go by before he pops his tongue into the side of his mouth with a cheeky grin that was questioning on mad.

"Looks like they just got eaten by that fucking shark, huh." He says quietly before leaning over to press onto the conference room phone. He ended the call before he watched the room continue in silence.

Another woman, Laura, sitting at one of the sides spoke up as she held her phone in her hands.

"It looks like they're countering again." It was a bit quiet, almost like she didn't want the entire room to hear as she read on her phone before looking up at Harry, who held the emotion of a bear.

"Tell them they can choke on their own spit." He bites before Felicity cleared her throat.

His eyes immediately softened at the way that she interrupted, mostly because he was a bit confused by it.

"Mr. Styles," She pipped, "I—I, um, if I may." She chews on her lip a bit before she takes in a breath. "It sounds like they're needing a bit more leverage. Maybe a bit more face-to-face interaction that will cut and garner the deal. You're going to need more than John's input; he needs more intel from other aspects to understand what their losses look like."

Harry's eyes simply rest on Felicity as he leans back in the office chair, his legs crossed—a pursed pout on his lips as he nods at her words. A trickle of egotistical pride lies beneath his chest as he stares at her for a moment.

"Set the scene for me." He tells her, before watching Felicity take a deep breath. He watches her chest fall and rise and something about it sets him into high gear.

"Your family started this from scratch—this company is bigger than just the cash flow, and it's completely understood that it's worth billions, but they need to understand that there's a larger purpose for the work that they've put into it. They're not on the same business level that SCO is—it's apparent by the way that they throw around their value system. Meet with John outside of the office setting, get him where he can be able to see that you're serious without the psychological barrier of the phone—"

"That's fucking bullshit." Felicity hears from down the table, another man making a comment about her complete train of thought that. "You really think business is about emotion?"

Harry narrowed his brows, Felicity a bit surprised but not completely. Her head turning back towards her computer.

"You need to be thinking internally for what's best for us, not babying them to give us what we want. You know they're going to fall right into our hands, we don't need to get soft on them." Mary, a woman that Felicity generously thought would at least have an understanding of her interests, seemed to shame her more.

Harry pursed out his lips as he stares at the notepad in front of him. He pushed his hands against the table to rise from his seat before he's raised, watching silently as he eyes Felicity quickly before he starts to make his way out of the room. Before he does so, he turns his back and holds onto the door before he looks at Felicity directly.

"Felicity, please meet me in my office."

She swallows down the lump in her throat; cursing herself for even making a peep. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. Instead, she closed the laptop before she grabs the few belongings and makes her way out of the door.

Harry is steps ahead of her, not looking back, as they make their way to the office that sits in the north side of the larger office space.

When he walks in, he makes his way to his desk before leaning on it. Felicity walks in behind him, hesitating before

Harry notices that she hasn't fully made her way in yet.

"Come in," He tells her, "Take a seat."

Her words practically spilling out of her as soon as they reached the threshold of the door; there was nothing that she could say now that would make him keep her there, but she wanted to at least try.

"I-I know I overstepped my boundaries– I promise, I really do, I promise I will never do that again," She's holding the laptop against her chest, practically begging, "This is extremely unprofessional, but you need to know that I need this–"

"Do you know why you're still here, Felicity?" He asks, "Why you're still at SCO?"

His interrupted words make hers fall short as she stands at the door still. His arms are holding himself practically against the desk as he leans back against it.

Tears threaten her eyes as she tries to think of what she needs to pack from her desk quickly. This feels entirely too personal– he's firing her on the spot.

She shakes her head as she doesn't want to come up with an answer. Harry squints his eyes a bit as he notices the emotion that starts to creep on her face. All the sudden, he feels bad for what he's doing to her.

It feels a bit forward, maybe a bit out of his place. But he needs her to know exactly how he feels about her, and why the last assistants never stuck around.

He needs her to know that's she's different.

"It's because you're fucking smart," He tells her, "What you have, they lack. You have this– well, for lack of a better word, you're emotional. You can see beyond the bullshit and really down to the person." He points towards the area of the conference room that they just left.

"I'm not here to baby your ass or carry you through this job– you don't need this fucking job. You have so much more about you than being an assistant, okay? So, don't take what some fuckers in that office say about you and your ideas as gospel. They aren't getting it done, either– as you can see."

Felicity's demeanor loosens at his words; her knuckles along the laptop at her chest starts to loosen as she breathes in just a bit.

"I'm sorry–"

"Stop apologizing." He orders, "When you do that, all you're doing is making them right about you. They aren't."

There's a silence between them for a moment before Felicity nods a few times and bites at her lip. "You're right."

"Most of the time." He tells her, a smirk has replaced the seriousness of their conversation. "That's why I have this big office and a 300ft. yacht and they don't."

She follows with her own small, sided smirk, watching as he goes to move from his position.

"That sounded very cocky, I'm sorry." He laughed a little bit, lowering his head as he felt a bubble of laughter. Felicity followed behind, laughing a bit as she bit on her lower lip.

The tension had been cut; this overwhelming feeling of comfort had started to come across her, specifically when Harry looked back up at her and she could see the shining level of his green eyes and the deepening dimples crossing his face.

It wasn't an emotion she saw very often; it looked impossibly lovely on him.

"Stop saying sorry, remember?" She reminded him, a sheepish smile laying on her lips.

Harry moved his fists into his pockets as he started to walk a bit towards her.

It was then that Felicity recognized that his pure power and force was enough to knock her down to her knees. The way that he stood up, his suit tailored perfectly around his small hips and shoulders, she couldn't understand the feeling that had come over her suddenly.

Harry approached her, they were standing eye to eye as he searched between them both. He had been searching for something, surely, by the way his eyes moved between her own.

Felicity tipped her chin up a little bit; it was slight enough that they both noticed, but a sudden embarrassment crossed her thought at the way she had possibly invited a completely inappropriate behavior.

"Let's get back in there, yeah?" She clears her throat as she turned her head and body, moving back out towards the conference room.

Harry's fists tightened next to him at the way she moved away, and he couldn't help but shutter at what could have possibly happened moments ago.

He lowered his head before he shook it a few times, "Yes, of course," He confirmed, nodding at her, "I'll follow you back, I'm just going to," He felt himself getting hot which made him feel vulnerable to her stares. "I'll be in there in a moment."

Felicity turned, her hair falling over her shoulders before she nodded. "Yeah, no problem."

Before she was able to move out of the room, Harry caught her attention once again before he narrowed his eyes to her. "Can I—that reservation I asked you to schedule. Please move it to Friday night. Something's come up, actually."

Felicity made a motion to speak, but she didn't end up with any words. Instead, just nodding a few times, her eyes smiling back at him as she agreed to his request. "Sure, no problem."

Her smile had vanished from his view as she turned to walk back to the conference room.

When she noticed that she was out of sight, his eyes had widened just at the breath that he had been holding in. It didn't matter how big or important a meeting could be, Harry never got nervous. He was never worried about anything—he knew what he was getting himself into, and nothing scared him. There wasn't a reason to be.

Standing in front of Felicity was a feeling he had never imagined would give him a doubt; he never felt like he would be pushed away or turned away, and the feeling of dismissal was encapsulating, to say the least.

He pushed his hand into his hair as he went to sit in the chair that was pushed in behind his desk, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shook his head.

Never in a million years did he think that he would feel such a way—never like this.

"Let's get back to work, then."

_______________

It had been a few days since the encounter in his office. Harry had noticed that even the next morning, Felicity seemed to be in much better spirits. Her head was held high; her shoulders were sitting back, like she was prepared to keep her chin up for the day.

He could catch glimpses from his office, watching as she typed away or smiled down at her phone. A piece of him felt only the slightest bit of—he didn't know the feeling very well—jealous. He wanted to know more, wanted to understand what she could have been smiling at.

He knew that his job had been done a few days ago as he watched her spirits rise just at his words. Something about that feeling was missing now—he didn't understand what it was, but his ego may have been getting in the way just a bit.

Harry sat his pen down that he had been using to write out some tasks before he grabbed the pad of paper and started to make his way out of his office. The small desk that sat outside of his was taken by Felicity; a few photos and memorabilia sat to give her space a bit of light and personalization.

It didn't mimic Harry's own office very well, as his was kept more straightforward and narrower. There wasn't any photos or personalized mementos—just plain, really. But the photo of Felicity and another man caught his eye, something he had never really seen before. Something he never felt that he would have had to pay attention to, that is.

"That your boyfriend?" He felt himself saying, but an ultimate feeling of embarrassment rose as he watched Felicity look up at him quickly. It was clear that she hadn't really noticed him sneak up on her, and her hands flew to the phone on the desk before closing the screen promptly.

"Uh," She shook her head, "I—I mean, we've been talking a few months," She referenced to the phone before she looked back at Harry and noticed that there may have been a bit of miscommunication.

"Oh—uh, no, sorry," He shook his head, pointing to the photo that sat on her desk. "I was—that photo, I'd never seen that before."

Felicity turned her eyes towards the photo that sat on her desk in the black frame before letting out a breath of relief. "Oh! No, that's my brother." She laughed a little bit before she watched Harry reach out to grab the picture frame off her desk.

He studied it for a few seconds, letting his smile move up a bit before he sat it back down. "Yeah, you guys look alike. I just—it was new, so I didn't know."

Felicity bit on her lip before tucking her hair behind her ears, "No—yeah, I would make that assumption, too. It's fine, but yeah." She didn't know that he would notice that she set up the photo or not. She knew now that he paid attention; he had an attention to detail, it seemed.

The small moment gave Harry a bit of concern as he felt that there was some unresolved feeling between the two of them. He cleared his throat, holding the paper out before her as she piqued at the small task guide that Harry had been feverishly writing down.

"I have a few things that I need to get done today, if you don't mind." He had handed her the paper before her eyes ran over it a few times. "It's just a few little things, but I need to have a few suits dry-cleaned for our business summit on Monday in England—I'm flying out tomorrow morning on the jet, but we'll need to make sure that everything is taken care of for that. I believe you, myself, Laura, Hank, Daniel, and probably William will be there, so we'll need to make—"

"Excuse me, but," Felicity chuckled before shaking her head a few times. "Did you say me?"

Harry blinks a few times in confusion before he bites the inside of his cheek. Surely, she knew that she would be leaving in the morning– she had to have known that as his assistant, she would be most responsible for being on the trip.

"Uh, well," Harry blinked, "Yes, I mean. of course. You're the most vital person for the trip, really."

Felicity bit into her lip before she turned towards her notes, her eyes flickering over them as she realized she wouldn't need to send him a detailed email of their agenda– she'd be there to tell him in person. So, all this work—it didn't matter now.

"Right– yeah, of course. I'm stupid for not putting that together." She shook her head as she took in a sigh, crossing out a few notes on her pad. She turned her attention back to him before she cleared her throat. "What time should I be at the airport tomorrow, then?"

Harry bit his lip, shrugging as he felt the smile crossing his lips, "I don't know—you tell me. You're my assistant."

Felicity blinked at him a few times before laughing out a little bit, letting her head rest in her hands as she felt a bit ridiculous for feeling so caught off guard. "Right—right. I—yeah."

In the back of his head, there was a delicate feeling of intrigue that bit at the back of him. He squinted his eyes a bit as he settled against the edge of her desk. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he narrowed his attention down to Felicity until she looked up at him and felt the wandering look. All Felicity knew is that she didn't want to look at the way that his forearms protruded against the fabric of his pressed white button-down.

"Is everything alright?" He asked her, the smile on his lips tug briefly before he was letting it fully on display. "You seem a bit... caught up."

She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she looked at her computer screen. "I'm fine—yeah. I'm just—I was a bit caught up, I guess," She chewed on her lip as she realized that getting personal was just that. It was personal. She didn't want to bore him or let know too far in. Their relationship was strictly business; it seemed that she endeared him though.

Her eyes traveled back to him when he didn't seem to leave her alone and she noticed that she'd had another message.

"I'm just... the guy I've been seeing, well, on and off—he just asked me to dinner and he's picking me up from here tonight around five. We haven't seen each other in a while, he's a bit..." She bites her lip again as she tried to find the right word, "I don't hear from him often. But when we're together, everything is fine. So, I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed with it."

Harry pinches the inside of his bicep when she speaks, his smile fading just a bit. He didn't want her to notice that, though. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth to think that she had been excited for someone who was making her wait. Instead, he shifted a bit on the desk as he cleared his own throat before speaking.

"That's—that's great," He tells her, watching as she smiles at his appreciation and acceptance, "Where is he taking you?"

"We're just going to this place off from fifth avenue, some place he said is nice. We're really just meeting for a beer or something." Felicity's eyes light up at the realization before she turns to face him a bit head on now, her chair swiveling around before she crosses her legs and faces him. "What about you, though? That reservation I made for you tonight—who are you meeting with?"

Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.

He remembered the reservation he had moved to tonight, simply so that he could flesh out a few details with Felicity over a dinner with just the two of them. Of course, he hadn't mentioned it to her. It was stupid of him to think that she wouldn't be busy on a Friday evening, of course. He had wanted to talk to her about the upcoming week; maybe get a little more out of her if everything was off the record at a dinner that wasn't going on the company credit card, but his own personal dollar.

Harry shakes his head a bit before he scratches at the back of his head, "Uh, right. I—I might need to cancel that. I don't think that's going to happen anymore."

Felicity watches his expression before she seems to mimic with a bit of somber. "Oh. Sorry. Tough subject?"

When he pushed himself from her desk, he placed his hands in his pockets before he hung his head a little bit. It hadn't occurred to him that the disappointment had been a bit stronger than anticipated-- and it wasn't just because he always got what he wanted.

"Hm, something like that," He tried to explain before he changed the subject to get it off his mind, "But yeah. So, dry-cleaning and all that can be finished before the morning, yeah? If you have any questions about any of that, I'll be in my office. Meeting at one and then I'm going to leave here around five."

Giving him a warm smile, Felicity nodded her head at him, watching as he turned to his office.

Her attention fell back to her phone; falling back to the smile and giddiness that had been so rudely interrupted by a different kind of feeling—one that she wasn't so sure she was supposed to enjoy, in that way, anyways.

_______________

The black Suburban pulled up against the curb; Harry's phone against his ear as he moved towards the vehicle in a fluid motion.

A driver had opened the door before he crawled in the back seat. The call on the other end had been a business call that he was supposed to listen in on; he wasn't going to speak, just listen to the meeting of what was said. He decided it had been enough and clicked it to end before he looked up and out of the window.

His head turned towards the door before he watched Felicity standing at the curb. She looked uncomfortable as she stood and had her eyes searching for whatever it was that she was looking for.

It was a little bit past six then; the rest of the day was filled with a meeting or two before he really started to get more work, letting his head get wrapped up in taking calls and finishing off emails before he would be away from the office for a bit.

This was how they left each other on most days; his car pulled up, and he usually drove away before he could notice if she caught another ride or if she headed towards the subway. Her eyes were searching— almost like she had been waiting for something or someone but didn't want to seem disappointed. Harry could feel it in his chest—he could feel the way that she stood with her arms crossed over her chest in a bit of distress.

It had occurred to him then that Felicity had mentioned that she was supposed to be picked up around five—a full hour ago.

The rain had started just a bit, enough that she quickly looked to the sky for a moment as if to curse it.

He watched as her phone fumbled in her hands. A discerned look on her face made him halt the driver before they could start pulling away. Harry watched her, the knowing look on his face as he rolled down the window to call out towards her.

"Felicity," He stated, opening the door before he stepped out. "Come on, get in."

Her eyes looked to him, practically mortified. Her head started to shake a bit before he moved out of the car just enough that she noticed his offer was serious and that he wasn't moving. The door was open now as he stood outside of it and held it open for her.

"Let's go– it's raining." He said, squinting a bit as the rain started coming down a bit more.

It seriously took Harry a moment before he realized that it may take a bit more for Felicity to listen to him; her contemplation didn't last long as the rain started to hit the cement loudly—her papers and bag held over her head as she made her way towards the open door of the large vehicle.

Felicity's heels clicked against the sidewalk as she hurried into the back of the van, crawling across to the other side and trying to keep her skirt down as she realized he would be coming right behind her.

There was a brief pause of silence when the door shut behind Harry.

Once they were situated in the backseat, Harry looked at her for a moment as she seemed a bit out of sorts. Her eyes were on her phone as she cleared her throat.

Her eyes were narrowed down as she searched through some texts, a bit all over the place it seemed. Harry knew Felicity better than this, and her nerves were starting to overwhelm her hand, almost like she was completely unsure of what was happening right now.

"Do you just—do you mind dropping me off at fifth ave—" She had started, but he was already shaking his head.

"He's not showing up, so no. Peter, drop us at The Malbec."

Her head turned towards him at the bluntness of his tone and the way that he resisted her need. The way that he answered her was unlike he had ever spoken to her; that caught her off guard the most.

Felicity flipped through her texts once again before she scoffed out, "Harry, I have a date tonight. I'll just get a car from there—"

"No, you won't." He told her, before situating himself in the back. The way that her hair had a bit of windswept to it, the length of her lashes, the complete blush of her cheeks—it was all enough for him to generally bust at the seams.

Seeing her like that was a wake-up call as he looked away and tried his best to be a gentleman.

"I'm off the clock, so my duties are relinquished for the night." She told him sharply, giving herself a bit more voice before Harry really glared at her this time. He had never heard her speak to him in such a way, but something about it gave him a mouthful to bite from.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that, I'm your boss." He told her; his eyes seemingly turning a darker color the more she stared at him. It was enough for her to scoff and turn her head out of the window as they had started to drive up towards the restaurant that she refused to go to.

Harry spoke again, this time a bit softer. "It's just dinner. No work."

It takes a moment before Felicity leans into the window and lets her head rest against the glass. The feeling of the coolness takes over before she shuts her eyes for a moment. It doesn't feel like she wants to cry, but maybe there's a bit of emotion that she can't seem to let go of.

The disappointment aspect was never good to her; that was how this always worked. Something always disappointed her. There hadn't been a moment when she felt comfortable or safe—no, really, she just wandered around in this life with so much hope. So much hope and very little pride, now.

She lived for the hope of it all.

When they made their way to the restaurant, it had started to rain a little less. It was merely a sprinkle before Peter pulled off to the curb closest and the two of them were able to get out.

Felicity was instructed that she could leave her work items in the car, bringing only her purse as Harry followed behind her. When they walked into the restaurant, her eyes widened at how fancy it was—the dim lit lights were much brighter than the sky had been at this time of day, especially when the clouds rolled in.

The host was able to take them directly to their seats—the ones that Felicity had made the reservation for. It was an intimate seat; two chair and a small table that were seated close to the window, but enough away from everyone else.

The Paulliac was on the table as instructed; the host pulled the chair out for Felicity before she was able to take a seat. The only reason she would have ever been to a restaurant like this is for a work event. The host sat menus in front of them before giving them some space.

Harry pushed his sleeves up on his forearm; the littering of tattoos on him was endearing to Felicity's eye before she looked away at the attention she was drawing to them.

"Wine?" He asked her softly, taking the bottle from the table and holding it out in a means to offer her some. She had agreed, nodding a few times before looking at the menu and the items on it. Surely, she couldn't pronounce half of them before she looked up to see that Harry had been looking at her already and her cheeks grew rosier.

Felicity felt that there was a tenseness now, like she didn't have too much to say. She didn't want to say too much and bore him, she didn't want to not say a word and feel the awkwardness that seemed to linger as they sat longer.

"I mean, since we're here," Felicity grabbed the phone from her purse as she scrolled through it, pushing her hair out of her face to tame it a bit from the frizz that the rain caused, "So, just to recap some new additions to the calendar, you have a dental appointment next Monday, a meeting with PLI at 10—"

"You said you grew up in DC, didn't you?" Harry cuts her off, his question making her turn to look at him with a solid glance before she starts to nod a few times. It was a bit unwarranted, but she decided that she would settle into it.

Felicity doesn't know why his soft voice seems so foreign from the bitter sound of his usual bite.

"Y-Yes, yeah, I grew up in Northern Virginia, actually." She gives him a solid answer before she licks her lips. Her hand moves to grab the wine glass, taking a solid sip before she places it back into its spot on the white knit tablecloth.

Harry nods at her simple answer, not necessarily looking for anything else. His head was filled with the worked he had been processing through the week, and something about this felt... warranted. He wanted this to be normal; to feel like she could see him from a different perspective, maybe, without less fear in her eyes.

Something about her makes his blood boil with a derailment—it's almost like he can't seem to read her, which makes him angry and animalistic, almost. He doesn't know why but he feels a bit shy in her presence.

Her eyes read over the menu before she clicks her tongue, "Anything on here that you would recommend?"

"You have any food aversions?" He asks, pretending to look over the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order.

She shook her head, not really thinking of anything. She knew that there were foods she didn't particularly enjoy, but she knew that if something was going to be expensive, she would put that aside to at least try.

When the waiter came by, Harry took initiate to order for the table– the two of them. He ordered an entrée, three appetizers, and a spring salad. Felicity listened as he did so, knowing that he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it.

She couldn't relate to that; not these days, at least. She didn't know what she wanted, so she pretended not to think about it most days. Instead, she recognized that not putting the pressure on it made it feel like it was enough; she had to understand that she was okay to be a bit unsure at times.

The restaurant has a crowded chatter amongst the guests, but Harry can't help but pay attention to the silence of the table instead.

"So," He pulls at the tie around his neck just a bit as he leans towards her at the table. "I'm thinking of possible meeting with PLI, in person. Like you mentioned this week, at that meeting. Something about looking someone in the eye might be the best approach and making sure everything is clean."

His eyes lifted to meet hers, watching as she took another sip of the wine. Her eyes were placed now on her hands that laid in her lap.

"Thought this wasn't a work dinner." She mumbled out, but suddenly caught herself, "But yeah– yeah, I think that would be good."

Harry pressed his tongue into his cheek, tilting his head a little bit as he heard her questioned statement. His frustration at not being able to read her was posing a threat to his mood before he shrugged a little bit, "It doesn't have to be, but you are kind of quiet, and I feel like I made you uncomfortable in the car. Or something."

"I'm not uncomfortable," She lied, "I'm– I don't know. I'm just a bit thrown by the events of the evening, and I think men are kind of preposterous right now. Please don't take that personally, and really, no offense or anything."

Harry shrugged, his lips turning downwards as he contemplated the truth in her statement, "None taken. I may agree with you, but," He licked his lips, "Can we agree that women are sometimes a bit..."

As he hesitated for a moment, Felicity spoke instead. "I would suggest that you not finish that sentence, probably. It sounds like the beginning of an HR concern."

Harry lifts a brow in curiosity from her argument that seemingly pushed her a bit out of the boundaries, "You can speak, but I can't? Don't believe that's a fair view of how you think women should live in society, is it? You want fair treatment, so I'm going to be honest with you."

"I didn't limit you from speaking, I just suggested that you should not. You can definitely say whatever it is that you'd like to say to me, Mr. Styles." Felicity shook her head a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. The way that she said his name always made him a bit woozy.

There was a moment when Harry wasn't completely sure that he didn't see the glimmer in her eye—that he didn't see a sparkle that may have been a fleeting moment, just a quick nod to him before it was gone forever, making him look mad for even thinking it in the first place.

"I will say it, then, if you're willing to listen," Harry told her, "I think that men and women aren't usually equal—nor should they be," He paused for a moment before he watched as her facial expression started to contour with a confusion so loud that he was certain the chefs in the back could hear. "I think that we live in a balancing act. For instance, the guy that you were looking to see—sure, he's probably an asshole, but you continued to want to see him. The pendulum works both ways. Maybe you shouldn't have wanted to meet up with him."

Felicity scoffed out a breath before she took a sip of the wine again—she could feel that there was a growing fuzziness that she wasn't able to keep up with. "Oh, you're giving me relationship advice now?"

The way that she bit when she had a bit of alcohol in her made Harry's eyes turn a darker shade of green that was unable to be noticed by the dimness of the restaurant that sat in. It was much more direct than she ever had been with him before; he wondered if this was how she was normally.

"I like to think I have your best interest in mind." He tells her with full honesty, feeling a bit bare with the truth laying flat on the table.

There is a moment that Felicity feels her heartstring tug, wondering if he meant it to hit her as specifically as it did. But she clears her throat when she watches the way that Harry refills the glass of red wi the out her asking for it, noticing that he fingers tremble when he grabs the bottle.

"I— I really do appreciate it, like, what you– I mean, you probably don't remember, but just this week with the whole coffee incident–"

Felicity is cut-off, by him, but she can see that the anger peculates off of him as he recalls the incident, "I hate that they think people are below them like that. It bothers the shit out of me," She can tell that the thought bothers him; his eyes narrow down as he takes a sip of his own wine, "Yes, it's your fucking job, but it's also not worth their time to be shitty to you for something you can't control. And you couldn't be nicer, grateful, kind—"

Harry's cut off by the food coming to the table. He shakes his head at the possible embarrassment he may encounter from the softness of rambling he had started to portray about some of her highest qualities.

The dinner that came out was exceptional— nothing less of what Felicity could have imagined. It was top-tier; the wine that was paired with it made her giggle a few times when Harry would go on rants about the way that he thought some of the companies ran. He would start the conversation with, 'off the record' and she would smile about how he could keep their conversations low.

It wasn't until she had told a soft-spoken jab about how she believed that he needed to stop hiring old, white men that she noticed that his dimples were parallel on either side of his face. They lit up his features, turning his eyes the color of a southern sky.

When they had finished, Harry took the check with ease and signed his name in capital letters, as if he wanted everyone to know that he had spent the amount of money at dinner that she spent in a month of rent.

Harry placed his hand on the small of her back as they maneuvered out to the car. The street was starting to become a bit crowded, especially at the door for the wait. Harry had texted his driver to make sure they could be picked up, which again, he made sure to open the door for her as they flew into the backseat.

Felicity told the driver where she needed to go; back to her apartment that sat on the upper West side of the city. It was close to Central Park; a few blocks away, she'd say.

There's a moment when Harry feels that he doesn't want the night to end. He surely doesn't want to watch her leave— that's for sure. The car ride is spent with him catching her glances as they watch the lights in the city pass by; the honking of the cars and the putter of rain starts to encapsulate the backseat.

"Is this good for drop off?" The driver asks, looking in the rearview mirror at Felicity before she nods, agreeing with a soft yes, and starts to collect her things. The items she had brought from work were still in their place.

Harry watched as she goes to speak, knowing that it was going to be a goodbye. He would surely see her in the morning, but he couldn't bare the idea of flying across the ocean, staring at her across the seat from himself, without any words left unspoken.

"Uh," He shifted a bit in the back of the car, Felicity could see that he was looking up towards the building that she called her own. "Do you actually mind if—uh, I really have to piss."

Her eyes widened a bit before she let her own lips widen into a smirk. "Oh— yeah, please."

It hadn't occurred to her until they were walking up the steps and into the building that she may have had some underwear on the floor and could potentially have a sink filled with dirty dishes— she couldn't quite remember.

But what she did know was that Harry was following in her steps as they climbed a few flights until they reached the third floor.

"Quite a workout, huh?" Harry puffed as they reached the front door to her specific apartment.

"Hm," She hummed, "Imagine having to move all of my furniture up here. I had to ask random men on the street to help me."

Felicity digs into her purse before she's able to find the keys to the front door.

"I don't want to be super nosy," He looked around the small vestibule that they were standing in while Felicity tried to find her keys—even though the purse she held was naturally quite small. "But is there any reason you live in a place that resembles a prison?"

Felicity chuckled out a laugh before she found the small keyring and tried to put it into the lock. Her hands were a bit unsteady—the wine was holding the buzz over her as she steadied her hands to unlock the small door.

"This is what livable looks like in New York," The door swung open; Felicity moved into the tiny apartment before placing her bag on the kitchen counter. "Maybe I need to have a discussion with my boss about a raise."

It wasn't the smallest apartment, but it was exactly what she needed. There was no storage space, but there was a separate room for each need—living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. She had a small working office in the corner by the balcony that she had been lucky enough to score from this specific unit.

Harry looked around the place, his eyes feasting on every detail. "That can probably be arranged if I can be certain that you won't get mugged getting into your front door."

He noticed how lived in it felt—the opposite of the cool, modern, high-end penthouse he would resort to later that evening. Everything was painted a different color of beige, keeping the lightness of the empty place very noticeable.

There were photos on the walls, painting and portraits, there were words that resembled some of her favorite music and books. It was colorful and there were plants that were seemingly a bit out of control.

"The bathroom is right there, by the way." Felicity pointed, before Harry turned towards the small room to his left.

"Thanks." He stated before he moved into it and shut the door behind him.

It was the same reaction he had to the living room and kitchen; his eyes narrowed in on the details of the shower curtain and the small bottles of serum that sat along her sink. The way that her toothbrush was bright pink, matching the towels that hung on the wall.

There were delicate parts of her that he was certain she wouldn't have told him about because she didn't think that it mattered. But in the long run, he liked the bits of color and the pieces of art that hung next to her sink.

It was a detail he hadn't really thought about of her before.

When he had come back, he stared at her position in front of the sink. Her sleeves were rolled up as she washed a few dishes that had been sitting there. Her heels has been removed, but the jacket and the short skirt still hung from her delicate frame as he watched the way that she focused on a task.

She noticed that he was looking at her now before she gave a small smile and felt that he wasn't in a hurry to leave.

"I would offer you something to drink—I mean, I would offer you anything, but I'm not really," She looked around the kitchen. "I have coffee and vodka. And not like," She scrunched her brows together as she looked in her fridge. "Not good vodka. You would look down on me if I served you this, kind of vodka."

Harry let his smile tilt up a bit as he meandered into the small space of the kitchen. If she was offering him anything—

"You really think I'm that much of a snob?" He smirked.

Felicity huffed a little bit as she turned her head towards him, "The wine we drank tonight was $600 a bottle."

He doesn't say anything for a moment before he tilts his head a bit and shrugs off the comment. He wonders if she thinks of him differently—not for being her boss, but for having a high taste. Possibly the earlier of the two, too.

"I grew up that way, I guess. It's hard to decipher what's normal." He tries to explain to her, which makes her look at him with a mockery of a face. Her eyes roll with a smile, and he gives her a look of disdain.

She goes to respond to him, but instead he moves his body practically over top of her back to grab the vodka that sits on the second shelf of the fridge. It's a bottle that cost Felicity about $12.75 just the other week, and it has a good amount still left in it. Harry holds the neck of it in his hands before he looks at it and sets it down on the counter.

"Lemons? Juice? Anything?" He asks; taking the liberty himself to look through one of the cabinets to try and find himself a glass. Felicity stays still for a moment before she's able to grasp the magnitude of the situation.

Her boss—Harry Styles, CEO, is standing in her kitchen and trying to make himself a cocktail with her $12.75 vodka that she had bought at the bodega just a few days prior. He's perusing through the cabinets—the few that she had—before he turns to her.

"Uh, I have a bar cart." She tells him solidly, before she moves her way into the living room where the car sat. Her head is feeling fuzzy, and she wonders if adding the vodka to it will make her completely lose all faith in herself. She has a feeling it will make her say something absolutely ridiculous, to him of all people.

Felicity grabs the shaker, two glasses, a lemon from one of the small bowls that she uses for décor but also for moments like this and makes her way to the kitchen where Harry has already taken the ice trays out. When he looks back up at her, he nods back to where she came from, her eyes following his gaze.

"Go sit on the couch, let me make you a drink." He tells her, "You had a long week."

"I'm going to be completely honest with you," She folds her hands together before he looks at her with a bit of a concerned look, "I don't know if I like the roles reversed like this."

He gives her a smug smile before he turns back to what he had been doing previously; now filling up the shaker with ice before he poured a few seconds worth of vodka into it.

"You think I'm a stuck-up prick," He tells her, "Let me show you that I'm not, will you?"

The statement that he left on his lips settled in the air between them; Felicity blew it away as she breathed outwards and just nodded in place. She suddenly became a bit meek before she made her way back to the sofa where she settled into the cloudy cushions, sitting with her legs underneath of her as she tried not to flash anything from her skirt. She heard Harry mixing the cocktails in the glass shaker, shortly before coming out with two glasses in his hands.

He hands over a glass that looks solemnly... clear. Maybe a bit too clear, but she felt satisfied to know that he was trying his best to make a spot in her world. She didn't have to climb to his level, he was trying to stay at hers.

"To..." He trailed off as he held his glass up to her. The small loveseat that they sat on felt incredibly intimate all the sudden.

"To... London?" Felicity stated, "To having to be up tomorrow at five, but continuing to drink even though we can get to London."

Harry laughed at her words before he clinked his glass against hers, "To London."

The way that his accent wrapped itself around certain words held her attention briefly before she was able to take a sip of the cocktail he prepared. Strong wasn't the word; overkill may have been more like it.

"Holy fuck," She coughed softly before she felt a sting in her eyes, "That's—please never go into bartending."

A subtle look of offense took over his face as he went to take a sip of his own before he widened his eyes at the flavor of it. "Oh, shit. Yeah, wow. That—that'll do some damage."

Felicity started to laugh at his own reaction before she sat the drink down on the coffee table and watched Harry do the same.

"So, to brief then," She stated, "I believe that it's still true that you're just a stuck-up snob who can't do anything on his own, including making a cocktail."

Harry stood up for a moment but took offense to her comment. He started to remove his jacket, which only intrigued her—it meant he was staying a while longer. "Hey, to my defense, your fridge is very, very sad. There was not much I could have done to make this better. If you're going to drink vodka, at least buy a decent brand."

Felicity tucked the hair behind her ear, "I'm here to make vodka Sprite's, okay? Not martinis," She leaned against the back of the sofa, "And there you go again with being the rich snob."

It was annoying to her that he had decided to roll up his sleeve, just enough on his forearm that she was able to see the tattoos that weren't seen very often. Seldom, really. In the office, she would notice that he would be focusing on something in his office, his sleeve rolled up a bit, but that was the extent of it.

It seemed there were many more up his arm than she had initially thought, but she knew that she would never see them all.

When he went to sit down, he went to move the throw pillow behind his arm, but as he did so, he noticed something black against the white couch cushion.

Immediately, his fingers flew to the item before he lifted the lace that held his attention quite mesmerizingly. Felicity gasped at the realization before she grabbed them from his hands, absolutely mortified didn't even cut it.

"I'm so embarrassed," She finally spoke, almost trying to blame the redness of her cheeks on the strong beverage he gave her. She knew that it was the inflammation of her dignity, not the vodka.

There wasn't a word spoken before she watched that his expression changed surprisingly. He took a long sip of the vodka drink before setting it back down.

But the smile that follows from the cocktail is all she needs to see before she can smile back.

"You continue to surprise me," His words were placed with a package of slurring vocab before he swallows back anything else he'd say out of pocket, "I'm going to be very honest that I didn't imagine you as— I mean, I never imagined you in lace."

"You say that like you imagined me in something else." The words that came from Felicity weren't her own—she didn't know why she said them, but his quick rebuttal shut her up completely.

"Silk, probably," He uses his finger to touch the rim of the rocks glass that he's holding, where the condensation made a drip over the dress pants that situation themselves over his thighs, so lucky. "Or—I mean, you could surprise me even more," He went quick after a moment.

Silence. Protruding silence that is viciously capturing them in this haze of only breath that either of them can hear. It's uninterrupted until Harry leans his head back and the creaking on the sofa fills Felicity's head, rather than the idea of what's to come.

She had felt it before; the warranted tension that Harry seemed to have over her. Maybe it was her fault for leaning into it, but sometimes, she just couldn't help it. The way that he found himself taken by her was just unspoken most of the time. She was surprised that he wouldn't have pulled anything at dinner, but she could fill in the blanks as she invited him up to her apartment.

It was inevitable, she thought.

She shouldn't have done that, but should not's were not what she was thinking about as she drowned herself in the alcoholic state of the sour vodka that wafted of lemon juice and baited words.

Instead, Felicity blinked a few times, watching as he stared at the ceiling. The blankness of the pure white ceiling seemed to keep him grounded before she watched his jaw tighten.

"You're full of surprises, a lot of mystery, you know?" Harry breathed out. The tie around his neck was getting tight, but he couldn't loosen it now—if he was being honest, it was adding to the pleasure of the moment. He wouldn't speak that out, but while the tightness caused a bit of discomfort, he thought of it in other instances. "I'm not sure I can keep up with it."

There was an unresolved tension in the words he spoke, maybe even a bit of slur in them before Felicity followed suit; her head resting practically next to his as she stared at the blank white ceiling that had very little to memorize or stare at.

"What fun is a mystery if it's solved?"

He wasn't sure if she saw—he wasn't sure if she saw the way that his eyes fluttered at the thought of uncovering every instance of mystery that she kept hidden away, in this small apartment. The air was starting to become lost on them, feeling like the oxygen was being pulled as he breathed. The shakiness of his breath was caught by her when she turned her head—she wished that she hadn't.

All she could process was the way that his eyes stared upwards, lips parted in an unsure manner before she watched his eyebrows knit in a deep thought that she couldn't seem to interpret. But this pique of interest held her as she kept her eyes on him—he could feel every deep breath that she tried to mask.

"I don't know if you knew this about me," He quietly stated, "But I really can't handle the unknown."

It was then that his head turned towards her; the distance between them was much shorter than he could have thought. He didn't notice until his eyes directly moved towards the way that her lips curved in the small bow, the one that he had known so well from the number of times that he couldn't keep his eyes from her. But this was different; this held much more tension that he couldn't believe.

This time he could smell the liquor that lingered on her lips that mixed so well with the cherry of the chapstick that he knew she applied generously. He would watch the way that it slid over the lips as he sat at his desk and wondered what was on her mind.

"You're very good at getting what you want," Felicity breathed, watching as he shut his eyes for a moment. It was as if with every word she spoke, he was closer and closer to the edge of something great.

Her eyes traveled to the way that his legs sat just open—they were just waiting for someone to notice. Felicity swallowed at the idea of sitting between them, on her knees. Sitting there with her eyes laying on him; he took notice of her tense shoulders and her harbored through before he sat up just a bit. He scooted himself back on the sofa—Felicity blinked at the way that he invited her with just the flicker of his eyes.

No words needed to be spoken when the look could speak for itself, but the way that he speaks breaks the barrier of silence.

"How good am I at getting what I want?"

The heavy eyes that she held were only staring at his lips and the way that he spoke—the flicker of his tongue over the satin maroon of his lips. She couldn't contain herself, because she knew that his aura was a force to be reckoned with. She had seen it up close and personal; she knew that everything that he did was because he was in it one hundred percent.

He didn't half-ass anything—not a report, not a phone call, not a meeting, not a thought.

Everything Harry did was with the full intensive purpose of being the only thing on someone's mind, body, and soul.

Felicity trembled in the spot next to him, but her legs urged to move themselves. Her brain wasn't moving as fast as her decisions; and in an instant, her knees lowered to the spot in front of him. Her hands settling on the thick of his thigh as she allowed her eyes to hold his. For a moment, hesitation crossed his face, but she could have mistaken it for vulnerability.

The way that he breathed outwards was enough to make her gain the strength of a thousand horses—the talk that he talked wasn't as strong now, she felt a sensibility of pure radiance from her actions.

"I'd say you're the best at it, really." She let her hands settle on his thighs, but she took them away so she could drop the blazer down her arms. The tight white t-shirt settled against her frame as he watched the way that she pushed her brunette locks from her shoulders.

But his being felt incredibly taken by the way that she slowly moved—she wanted to savor every moment of this, he could tell that she was being critical, slow, and putting together each piece of herself in front of him.

That's what he thought at least, until he recognized that there was a tremble in her hand when she went to grab at the belt buckle, he barred. His hand flew to hers when she touched it; almost annoyed at himself by the look of terror that he was faced with as he knew that she had felt pushed away at that.

Instead, he pulled at her to stand up in front of him, between his legs. She did so with ease but a bit of confusion laid on her face as she stood with her hands by her side, Harry's eyes dancing along the figure—the divots in her thighs, the way the skirt just held to her so beautifully.

He let out a whimpering sound before he let his hand fall to the tightness of the front of his pants. Instantly, the pleasure trigger was pulled, and he knew what he had gotten himself into now had to be completed. It had to—he never did anything half-assed.

"Go put your heels on," He instructed her, watching as she stared at him willingly.

"A please would be nice." She tutted back, letting her lip fall into the curve of a smile.

Instantly, she knew that this wasn't a game anymore—this wasn't a fun, hushed little game of pleasure with nobody watching. She knew that the way that his eyes changed at the blink of an eye, the way that his jaw tightened at the statement: and the clear smirk on her lips faded.

"I'm not asking you," He sat up a bit, "I'm telling you."

Felicity had been used to being spoken as such; her memory fading into a moment, but her barriers kept up as she understood that her body was reacting only to the way that the words flowed from his mouth. She knew there was safety in his tone, she could see it by the way that he had stared at her with these stolen glances all night.

Instead, she followed his direction, moving back towards the door until she placed the black heels onto her feet again. They hurt just a bit from wearing them all day, she had to admit. But they made her stand taller, firmer against the fake wood flooring of her apartment. She wondered why the downstairs neighbors would think, as it became later at night.

"Come here," He told her, holding her wrist when she got close enough. He pulled her back to the place in front of him. She stood taller now, his nose practically at her bellybutton as she watched the way that he pulled her close.

Now, his hands lay on the outside of her hips, the sides of her thighs. She shuddered at the feeling, knowing that this was the first time she had been touched by him in such a manner. The musky scent of teakwood and spice drifted from the curls that settled against his forehead, she was sure of it. She could feel the heat of his breath just above where she needed him most as she stood close to him, right between his legs as he sat on the sofa.

"Do you know how many times I've thought of you like this?" He practically choked on his words, quiet, "So fucking beautiful."

She breathed out a shaky breath, holding onto every ounce of madness that she had collected over the past few moments.

"How many?" She asked him. Harry stood up, letting her take a step back as she felt the prominence of him now-- how he was a bit taller, even with her heels on. Every part of her ached—so unfamiliar to her, this feeling of need and want. It was a sensation of desperation that she hadn't known before; her inner monologue was flooded with dangerous prose as she felt his fingers cradled onto her jaw.

"More times than I'd ever be able to count." He told her, his voice deep and sharp as he pushed his hips forward. She walked backward a few steps, he followed in her lead like a waltz before he pushed her pelvis into the wall, holding it there with his own.

"You're going to be my good girl tonight, aren't you, Felicity?" His words were practically a whimper as he let his lips slide along her own; the tremble of her quivering lips made him shake in his own anticipation. "You love to listen, hm? That's why you're always taking my orders and assisting me? Getting paid to do what I say?"

It was always obvious by the pink of her cheeks and the timid ways of her soul that Harry could see right through her. From the moment she arrived on the job to the way that she completed everything task with ease; every job, every plan he needed executed, she followed in righteous order.

It made him proud, to say the least. She ran the company better than he did most days, but she didn't get half the recognition.

Until now, surely.

Her eyes nearly roll back into her head at the foul play of his words; the way that his eyes follow down the path of her lips, his thumb mapping the path down her chin before he grabbed it between his thumb and index finger.

The villainous smirk on his lips can't be seen by how close they are now.

"Does saying 'Yes, Mr. Styles' make you wet, Miss Carter?"

The question rolled off his tongue as he watched her minuscule behaviors; the way that she practically shivered against the wall made his eyes move to the way that her knees bent in just a bit.

His mouth turned up to the side as he realized that his was right yet again.

Felicity groaned in the back of her throat as she let it tip against the wall. He was practically on top of her by the way that he stood, his knee was pushing her knees apart before she was able to protest any of it. Not that she would've; she knew that it was about to turn into an evening that she couldn't have truly imagined if you had asked her just hours before.

"You're getting shy on me, again?" He remarked, but this time, it was paired with some loose kisses along her neck as he used his hand to cradle her jaw enough that she was pressing into it with ease. "What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Felicity ached as she breathed—her body pressured against the wall was her own doing, practically to keep herself from overwhelming herself. If she leaned into him too much, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." She bit her lip at the words coming off her tongue.

She could feel that the instant gratification that came from him was filtered through the stare that he barred towards her; the way that his nose brushed against the lobe of her ear as he practically fell into her graces with three simple words.

Harry groaned at the feeling of her pressed against him then; her brain sparked a few times, trying to remember how it felt before this. How reality felt. This wasn't reality in the slightest; this was a dream.

"Tell me," He urges her, "What was his name?"

She lets her eyes wash over his face as she notices that his strength and need have put him into a trance of pleasure and further need.

"Who?" She questions.

"The guy," He lets his lip gently caress right between her chin and lip. "The guy you were supposed to see tonight."

Felicity remembered how the evening was supposed to go—her interest completely lost in that game, when this one seemed a bit more daring and fun. It felt that she was seen here; like she had been stared at for quite some time, ogled, maybe.

"Uh, S-Sam." She choked out as she felt the way that his hand pinched at the small of her waist, almost like he was trying to make sure she didn't leave.

He hummed softly before he tipped her head back, the simple press of his nose moving her head against the wall. "Fucking loser."

Her mouth instantly felt his—a righteous moment of complete satisfaction bundled beneath her. It was the first time that his lips had laid into hers, moving gently against one another as they fit perfectly in sync. It wasn't too rough—just enough to know that she was in the hands of someone who knew what she was asking just by the way that his body moved. He could read her body and react to the fact that her chest may have been pressed against the wall a bit too much, so he pulled back to give her room to breathe.

The way that they flew through her bedroom door was just as shocking to her as it was to him; it made a much larger noise than she anticipated as they practically flew over the threshold and into the creamy white sheets of her—thankfully—made bed.

He landed on top of her in the heat of the moment. Their lips stayed attached through it all, almost like they were making up for all the lost time over the years. His tongue gently caressed over her top lip, which elicited quite a whine of surprise from her.

Her hands flew to his necktie, trying to loosen it before Harry grabbed her wrist—hard enough that she barked out a whimper.

"No," He told her sharply, watching as she hesitated underneath him. Now her hair was feathered out against the bedspread, her light eyes were catching every glimpse of her. After a moment, he looked at her softly, knowing that she didn't understand the game that he was about to play.

"We are going to play by my rules tonight," He told her, watching as she pushed herself up towards the headboard. He followed her lead, letting her hands rest on the back of his head as she tried to kiss every inch down her neck. "And I have a few notes you need to take, got it?"

Felicity tried her best to stabilize her breath as she was given a moment away from their lips touching to catch it. She licked over her lips, feeling her heart pounding along her chest before she nodded against the bed and the linen comforter that laid underneath them.

Harry sat up, his hair a bit of a mess, the clothes on his body were practically ripped from the front where they had been neatly tucked. The growing need for her was obvious as he felt the tip of his cock struggling beneath the waistband of his belt. The friction made it quite hard to concentrate on what his plans had been, but he knew that he had to be firm with his requests.

"First," He instructed, "The safe word is poetry."

Felicity's eyes stared at him with quiet focus as she nodded a few times to try and understand that. She hadn't ever been with someone who needed to use a safe word in any sexual act, so she struggled to wrap her brain around what that could have possibly meant. But her actions continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around his biceps to try to bring him back to earth. The idea that he had to bring it up intrigued her.

"Second," He pulled at the necktie around his own before he loosened it enough to grab and throw off of his own neck. His hands moved to place it around her own, helping to move the hair from her neck so that it could rest comfortably around her own. "I like to use props. Are you okay with that?"

Felicity felt her heart beating steadily in her chest for a few seconds before she nodded her head. He watched the innocence completely take over her face as he smirked at the all-knowing tale of it.

"Third," He bit on his lip as he moved down to let their foreheads rest along each other, "I need to hear you—no nodding or shaking your head. Consent makes me feel good. And when I feel good," He kissed her once again, a quick one this time, before his voice quieted so that it was just between them. "You'll feel even better. Okay?"

Felicity breathed in a deep breath before she tried to use the voice that had been drifting away from her. She didn't feel in her body like an echo of a voice had started to take over instead of her words. But she let out a rasp of a word, "Okay."

Harry nodded a few times, knowing that with her eyes, he would be able to continue, but only if he was able to talk her through every part of it. He didn't know her experience level or what she was comfortable with, but he knew how to make pleasure the only thing that would be on her mind for weeks. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the last time he got the opportunity.

"This is—uh," She looked at the ceiling, feeling like an idiot for starting to speak before she shook her head, and watched Harry give her a look of confusion. "No, sorry. Nevermind."

"What is it?" He questioned, hoping that something he had said hadn't scared her away. She took in a breath as she thought about how the wording could anger him—maybe it would stop whatever was happening, which she didn't want to happen now that they were in the midst of it all.

"I—uh, I mean, like, are you okay with this?" She asked quietly before pushing up on her elbows. "I—do I have like, sign something?"

Harry raised in brows in a bit of a humorous way that only made her cheeks grow red with shame at her silly question—in all honesty, it wasn't silly, but Harry was giving her a hard time about it, anyway. He bit on his lip as he felt the smile that was threatening to overcome his entire face.

"Am I supposed to be worried that you're going to tell the Daily Mail that I have a huge cock?"

"Harry!" She covered her eyes, floating back onto the comforter, "Nevermind—maybe I'll tell them it's small, though, if you don't stop being mean. I'm just trying to protect you."

"Aw," He tutted, putting his thumb over her bottom lip, but his eyes had grown a bit darker—the way that they had been a bit earlier. It was almost an illicit reaction; the way that he spoke to her, was so filthy with each word spoken that made her melt into the bed. "Dare you to say that to my face when you're choking on it," He pressed his hips into hers then, knowing that she would react to it. Hers moved upwards into him, just as he had intended, "I'm not worried about an NDA in the slightest bit."

In a teasing manner, she scrunched her nose and playfully spat back, "What if I tried to steal all of your money?"

He pressed his hands next to her head on the bed, letting her eyes look directly into his as he spoke, hoping his voice didn't falter: "You can have it all. Take it."

Something about it should have made Felicity giggle—almost like they were joking around. But there was a way that his sincerity felt more like a proposition than a source to cut the tension of their achingly needing bodies against one another.

Her body seemed to enjoy the way that he stated the smooth words, as she let her hands fall into the brunette curls that settled on the back of his neck. It didn't take long for her to pull him closer, letting her lips graze over him in such a frustrating manner. She was completely built up, her could feel the way that her thighs trembled against him.

Pushing her legs open, Harry pushed the hem of her skirt up her hips so that he could find a home between them. In doing so, flashing the baby pink of her lace panties only let his blood flow faster and faster.

"I bet you've soaked those, hm?" He tuts, pressing his nose into her cheek ask he lets his hand knowingly move to the place he speaks of, knowing that he's right. Again. "Sam doesn't know what he's missing, does he?"

The teasing was becoming a bit too much for her—waiting for his fingers to move faster, she moved her hips a bit to try and get herself the pleasure she was trying to search so desperately for from him.

Harry notices the way that she tries to squirm, and he smirks at the reaction he's giving her; knowing that within every inch of her is building up a tension that will release. It will be like a dam that overflows—a satisfaction that will be so worthy of the cost of admission. He can't help but notice, can't help but watch her need.

He can't help but know that he's going to fuck her into an oblivion so dark, the stars will be lost in space. She doesn't know that yet.

Instead of being mean, he decides it might be better for him to give her what she needs—what she's been so kindly asking him for with her pretty hips and her pretty lips.

"On your knees," He tells her, watching as she moves underneath him. She wiggles around until she's on her stomach; the necktie gets him harder as he watches it dangle from her neck like the apple in Eden. Every part of him wants to take the bite—not yet, oh, not yet.

When she does this, her back arches upwards, and Harry's knees settle on the bed as he hovers above her and watches the way that she submits to him. Every word he says she listens—he can barely handle it anymore.

In an instant, his hands reached the bottom of her skirt, pushing it up to fully show the outline of her ass in the cheeky pink lace. It's always been known to him that she would wear something so pitifully scandalous under those black skirts, but he couldn't have imagined it would be like this.

Her pretty face has been folded into the creamy duvet, waiting for the touch of him to send her into an implosion.

All he wanted was to taste her—to make all of the thoughts he had prior feel like they were significant and they were able to be adhered to. He wanted to make her feel like she was the most special person on the planet; like she could feel every inch of him, and she would be thriving in that thought for the end of time.

This may be a one-time occurrence, and he wanted to marvel in it. He wanted her to enjoy what she didn't know could be.

Harry's hands pulled at the pink lace, wondering how lucky he was to be able to enjoy this sight—and what a sight. The wetness of her folds only made him salivate; made his hungry eye a darker shade of green before he dove his tongue directly into her, licking up the mess he had already made of her.

The soft whimpers turned into moans as she practically lurched forward—the initiation hardly bearable as she scrunched her eyes at the feeling of pleasure. The warmth and invite of his tongue pressed against her, lapping her up and into a pitiful puddle. When she felt the nudge of his finger, she gasped at the feeling of him; the duo of his tongue and finger sang together in harmony like a choir of angels.

"Oh, fuck," She quietly moaned out, holding herself on her elbows as she grabbed at her pillow for a bit of leverage. She felt him hum into her, his nose gently brushing against her as he pushed her ass up to get further towards her clit which hungered for his touch, as did his tongue.

The taste of her replenished him, making his heartbeat faster as he felt the stringent feeling of tightness along the dress pants that held him in. Without letting his tongue go without, he used his hand to swiftly throw the belt from the loops of his pants, unbuttoning them quickly and without another thought.

"Fuck, you taste like I thought you would. So fucking sweet." He stated, pushing her ass out of the way when he pulled back. He threw her down onto the bed so that she would be looking up at him. The girl was fully dressed still, just with her skirt pushed up—underwear a bit haphazardly thrown to the side. The rose-colored cheeks threw him as he used his hands to pull the skirt down her thighs.

"Get naked." He ordered, watching as Felicity's hands moved to throw the t-shirt from her body as he requested, leaving her in her panties and bra. Harry threw the white button-down of his from his chest; Felicity got a bit distracted by the way that the tattoos generously scattered over his body. She swallowed back her intimidation as she held herself up on her elbows.

In a swift motion, her panties and bra were thrown onto the ground, leaving her in just the necktie like Harry had ordered for her. She hadn't even quite noticed that he had been rid of his own clothes, her eyes wandering down but not wanting to stare as she noticed that the smirk on his face was ever present.

"Think it's still small?" He asked, with a chuckle as he pulled at her knees, moving her down towards him.

"Maybe smaller than I'm used to." She played back, biting her lip at the intrigue of how he'd react. His arms grabbed at her waist before he threw himself down onto the bed.

"Ride me, then. If you think you can take it as good as you say." His words spit out before Felicity could think too much. It had been a while she had been in this situation, with a guy in her place, at least. Her hand reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom, Harry nodding in appreciation for the gesture.

Her hunger and desire for this became a bit more active as she was now in the driver's seat, moving and manipulating her body to sit across his lap. If she would lie, she would say that it was smaller than average. But unfortunately, she was taught to always tell the truth.

It was much bigger—especially as he rubbed his hand down himself, a gasp of air baiting out of his lips before he looked up at her in a state that could only resemble pleasure.

Harry rolled the condom down his length, watching as she settled into his lap. Her legs settle on either side of him before he looks up at her. The blazing fuzziness of his mind from the liquor has started to cease and is replaced with a hunger of desire for the brunette instead.

"Pretty, pretty." He tells her, watching as she looks antsy enough to move, but he pulls her down to kiss her, anyways. It's a moment that he knows he's taking away from her, but he needs some form of interaction from her. A small detail of need that overcomes him.

His hands steady her hips above him, holding his cock up to her entrance before he watches her hips move down to encapsulate him all—her movements are slow as she throws her head back in an unsurmountable pleasure that she quite practically leans forward against him to catch herself from falling.

"Fuck," He grunts, shutting his eyes just at the way that the blood moves directly to his cock at the feeling of her wetness. She's completely drenched and open and ready which makes her so sensitive and barely capable of words at this point.

Her hands steady herself, holding onto his chest as he allows her to take the lead on what she needs. But he can tell from the look on her face that she's having quite a hard time collecting herself—almost like she's quite unsure of what to do with the power that he's given her to be on top. It's not him pitying her, but him wanting her to enjoy the experience.

So, maybe, in another life, this can happen again.

"Baby," He choked out, shaking his head at the way that he knew it was the wrong choice of words, "Felicity—let me," He grabbed the small of her waist as he sat up quickly. His arms pivoted them so that he could throw them back around on the bed. It wasn't to take anything away from her, but to give to her more than she was giving to herself.

"Let me do this, yeah?" He joked with her, letting his lips kiss along hers, biting and nipping and finding small ways of showing her that the softness of him was still there even in the darkened eyes and furious gasps.

His body readjusted, his hips pushing into her in a more fluid motion. This got her to gasp, a breathy one that he liked hearing—those were the ones that were out of pure pleasure and satisfaction; ones that he felt drunk on.

In a way, this felt a lot different than before. The overhead light of her bedroom was soft; there was a significant dimness to it. He wasn't sure if it was because the room was small, but it felt like there was a intimacy that he had been missing before. His eyes tilted upwards to the paintings and lines of movie quotes that lined along her bedroom wall. There were framed simply and held color and brightness to the space, which distracted him for only a moment before he was able to lay against her.

The necktie around her took his focus back.

"I'm going to play with you a bit, is that alright?" He asked her softly, biting at his lip before he found himself pressing into her hips. His hands grabbed at the necktie before letting them start to tighten it around her neck. " 'Member you words, hm?"

Felicity whimpered out at the coax; nodding her head, "Please—please."

Harry sat up at the request, happy that she was using her words in this sense. He readied himself; thinking of what he needed to think about to try to get himself to a different place. He didn't want to cum too quickly; his cock was barely holding on as it was. The friction of her sweet wetness was enough to make him fold again and again and again.

His fist moved to grip at the knot of the tie, pushing it upwards until it hit at her chin. She raised her head, almost to give way to the pressure that it held against her. She was only briefly capable of speaking a few words, but she was taken with pleasure at the way that her breathing was manipulated.

"Breath play," Harry practically reads her mind as his hip's diver deeper into her. The feeling of her legs at his ribs, practically around his body as he feels the back of her ankle into his back. "Your words, baby."

Felicity took a deep breath; Harry moved his hand so that she could take it in more. He wanted her to feel the wooziness, the daydream-like feeling of the high that it could bring her. He wanted this moment to be special, for her to remember that she was in the most requitting love affair. That she was taken care of, adored, seen.

At the end of the day, Harry wanted to make sure that her jaw was cradled, her lips were kissed, her eyes were stared into, and her breath was taken away.

His hips snapped further, her moan sounded like a small mew before he sat up a bit straighter, loosening his hand on the tie before he grabbed at both of her hips. His hand moved to maneuver over her clit, thumb drawing a star over top of it to which she squirmed in sensitivity. He smirked at the way that she held softly against him before he let a dribble of spit land directly on her, smearing the wetness to coat her.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He stated, the blown-out pupils of them both had them reeling—he noticed he had really neglected parts of her that he had wanted to remember, but he also knew that there was a significant need that they were both needing to fill. He knew that this was just inevitable fucking from weeks—months, really—of built-up tension that they both needed to get out of their system.

"I—I want more," She nodded, her voice quiet and barely above a mumble before their eyes made contact.

He felt that she was a bit, for lack of a better word, fucked. Her eyes were a bit droopy, she may have been trying to cover up how much she really drank, but her effervescent neediness was going to haunt him forever.

"I can give you more," He nodded, "I can give you so much fucking more." His hips snapped forward, again and again and again—her headboard hitting the wall every time he did so. Their breath heavy and their eyes connected as he did so.

"Such a pretty little fuck," He lifted her leg up from around his waist before he gave her knee a gentle kiss. "I'm so hard, fuck."

The fully natured nudity of their bodies was new for him—it was usually very quick, especially when they would come to his. But this was significantly more intimate; he wanted to spend this time with her. He liked that they decided to do it this way.

She could feel the tightening of the rubber band that was about to snap. It had been building with every swipe of his thumb, the way that his tongue had gently nudged at her clit; the way he had plunged forward with every deep thrust. She was impressed with the way that he moved her body to be able to hit at her spot every single time. He had studied her, watched what she did—how she reacted.

"I'm—fuck," He pulled himself forward, letting his head drop as he fell into her touch. This was new; her hands on his shoulders, the way that they moved into his hair and down his neck. "Poetry, okay?" He reminded her softly before he kissed her lips.

What happened after that could have been a blur—to Felicity, she wasn't entirely sure if she could remember it all. His hand gripped around the tie of her neck, pulling softly so she felt a dizzy sensation.

"Fuck—fuck, Harry, I'm cumming—fuck." Her teeth bit so sharply on her lip that she was afraid it might rupture the skin; the taste of blood would come soon afterwards, but her reality was set in the pleasure kingdom that Harry's hips created for her.

It was dizzying how he snapped his hips upwards, hitting her every single time. The pressure of his thumb over her clit sent her into an overdrive; letting her walls completely break, the dam overflowed, flooding. The orgasm over taking her sent him into a state of pure shock and adrenaline, snapping his hips a few more times before he felt the absolute relief.

Her eyes shut; Harry lurched forward as he fell into the grip of her hands. It was a feeling of falling that he genuinely believed were cloud-like.

For a moment, he wondered if they would ever slow their breathing down. He wondered if the sound of her heart beating against his was real-life or just a fantasy. It may have been an orgasmic-induced dream.

The puzzle piece form of the two of them let him settle nicely into her; his nose poked at the skin of her neck, which he may or may not have left a mark or two on.

In the solemness of the air, his breathing finally evened out.

___________

"Are we cleared for take-off, Mr. Styles?"

The noise jolts him a bit, he wouldn't lie.

Harry clears his throat as he opens his eyes which have been hidden by the sunglasses that have settled on his face. He readjusts in the seat before he looks around the small jet plane that had been chartered for their adventure.

It was early, approaching on seven in the morning. His sleep had been nonexistent until that small nap that he had gotten himself before being woken up by the pilot.

"Uh," He swallows, trying to make it seem that he was more awake than he was.

"I believe that we're all here." Laura states to the pilot before she gives him a tight smile. She returns to looking at her cellphone, lowering her hands into her lap as she continues to scroll through what's possibly an email.

Harry looks around the small jet, watching, searching... wondering.

He blinks a few times to try to imagine if there's a reality where what had occurred last night was working against him—he had hoped that she hadn't been scared off, that she hadn't run away at the idea of what this weekend could possibly hold.

Not that it was going to happen all the time, certainly not. But he wondered if there could be a next time—he wondered if she would have liked that. It turns out, with the no show to the work trip that she had been informed on that—

"I'm sorry."

The sweet tone of the voice carries through the plane before he turns his body in the single chair to look at where it had been coming from. Coming up the steps, being greeted by the stewardess, a smiling face that had her sunglasses pushed into her hair—a pair of black yoga pants and a t-shirt with a cardigan sweater overtop.

He watches as she takes her bag, feeling uncomfortable by the stewardess taking it from her before she gives her a tight smile and settles into walking towards the back. The plane isn't large, but it feels incredible big when he is waiting for her to approach him.

Their eyes meet and she gives him a tight smile before greeting the others on the plane. The seat directly in front of Harry isn't taken. Go figure. Her hands are full—holding her purse, a bag that most likely has something to eat for a breakfast, a coffee, and—

"Your dry-cleaning," Felicity handed the back to him before she took her seat that sat directly across from him in the small private jet that had seemingly felt much smaller as she took in how close he was to her now, "Mr. Styles."

The flicker of her eyes to his—the way that her hair had been blown dry, bouncing with curls, the freshness of her toned-down makeup to allow the texture of her skin to show with the subtlety of the glow.

Even in the early morning hours, even though he had just left her a few hours prior, even though they had both had less than a few good hours of sleep—she still looked like she was greeting him at heaven's pearly gates.

When the bag was unzipped to check that everything had been added, his eyes fell along the purple necktie that he had unnervingly left at the edge of her bed the night prior; he must had run out of the door of her apartment without it. His eyes glanced at the way that the small item drifted over the white button-down.

It was familiar, of course, because it had been the one that he was wearing yesterday when he had entered her apartment but left without it in his hands or around his neck. He cleared his throat at the sight, knowing that it was a nod to him and only him. When he sat them down across his lap, his eyes landed on her again—the casualty of her smirk was harrowing now.

"Mr. Styles, are we waiting on anyone else?" The pilot had come back towards the rows now, to ensure that everything would have been cleared for the take-off. Harry looked back at him, and shook his head without another doubt, but a solidly aching feeling in his chest as he barred the words back at him.

"No, I—I'm not waiting for anyone else, at least." He looked up at the girl in front of him, "I'm good."

The pilot got the plane ready for departure; Felicity stared at the window as she tried to take in the experience, knowing that the exhaustion that was starting to overcome her would be able to be given a final rest when she leaned against the window.

But, for the time being, she liked being able to rest in the light of Harry's stare as he couldn't take his eyes from her.

The plane, the job, the clothes, the dinner—none of it mattered when the view in front of him was something that money would never be able to buy.

____________________

hiiiii!!

happy tortured poets department day, here's a one-shot <3

just a little fun one hehe, almost 20k words is so much for me, so thank you for reading this!

love u as always

- emily

[mimiamorewon]

—★ mdni, reblogs appreciated 

content: short angst, explicit language, slight toxicity, suggestive/ sexual content (phone $ex from one party), implied masturbation, sexual tension, pet names (doll & sweetheart)

word count: 1.9k

not proof read!

You & Toji had just got in one of the most heated fights recently, not being anything new, but being worst than before. So bad, in fact, that you stormed out of his house, vowing to never look back. part of you wanted to never to see him again but the other part— one you hated to admit— wanted him to chase you right out of that door. 

But he didn’t.

The argument had started over something petty- your tendency to leave lights on, maybe—but it snowballed into a shouting match where old wounds just happened to be reopened. You faced accusations like daggers, and he parried with cold indifference that stung worse than any insult.

once you arrrived home, you attempted to convince yourself you didn’t really mind, attempting to keep up that facade even when you were by yourself. you had just gotten in bed after taking a shower and doing all of your nightly routine things, the whole time trying to push the argument out of your head, and still- with not a single text or call from Toji. you were always the one to apologize first since you would usually initiate the arguments, and this was the first time you’ve ever left in such a rage, so you decided to test Toji.

just how long could he refrain from texting or calling you? it wasn’t like you cared or anything… but somehow every notification you got from your phone made your heart beat just a little louder in anticipation that Toji had finally reached out.

in frustration, you simply turned your phone off, and angrily turned your back to it.

You stared at the ceiling, the quiet of your apartment almost suffocating. Part of you ached to hear his voice, even if it was just to fight some more. The other part hated that you felt so desperate for him. pathetic you thought bitterly to yourself, dozing off.

-

Toji leaned back in his bed, his hand hovering over the phone. he suddenly smirked to himself, knowing the power he had over you. his thumb finally pressed ‘call.’ He always loved getting under your skin, but this time it had gone too far, and he hated how much he needed to hear your voice again

-

what felt like only 5 minutes after dozing off and finally falling asleep, you heard your phone ringing. after being woke up, you check the time on your phone, and it was around 1:30 am. 

Toji? you thought. It couldn’t be anyone else.

still groggy and half-asleep, you stare at Tojis name and contact, glaring brightly onto your face. Childishly, you debate whether you should simply just let it ring… but your curiousity got the best of you, and against your better judgement, you answered. 

You exhale, hoping you were making the right decision by answering. “What do you want?” you snapped, your voice sharp as you propped yourself up on your elbow. there had been a moment of silence in the other end of the call, a silence that almost made your stomach sink. should I have answered differently? you thought. Suddenly, a low, mocking chuckle came through the speaker, immediately taking back your previous thought.

“Took you long enough to answer y/n,” Toji continued, his voice smooth but with a familiar edge of smugness, “miss me yet?”

you roll your eyes as far as you can into the back of your skull and grip the phone tighter, “now why the hell would I miss you?” Another laugh. deeper this time. like your anger amused him to no end. “I dunno, doll. y’ tell me. You’ve been waitin’ for this call, haven’t you? Lying there, pretending like you just don’t care… you act like we haven’t been together for almost 3 years. ‘m not stupid.”

his words set a fire in your chest. he was right. he was so right that it inevitably pissed you off to your core, and before you could even think about what came out of your mouth, you snapped.

“I hate you.”

..the line went quite for what felt like forever. you almost believed that he had hung up, moving the phone from your face to check the screen. You heard a faint click from the other end, and It wasn’t until a few beats later that Toji would give you his response, long and drawn-out, as if he were savoring every word.

“Say that again.”

Your breath slightly stopped, flinching at his words, and realizing too late that this game you started was dangerous.. sooo dangerous.

you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the pulse from your chest had betrayed you. “what?” you questioned, not knowing if you had pissed him off or if he simply hadn’t heard you the first time. 

you cleared your throat slightly. “I said.. I hate you.” saying it this time felt slightly different. maybe it was because of the embarrassment that came with repeating yourself, but it made it seem as if you didn’t mean it (you didn’t.)

the silence once again dragged on. it was unbearable. you lips had parted to say something- anything- maybe even apologize. was he really hurt? but then, Toji spoke again, his voice just a pitch lower. rougher. dripping with something… hungry.

“say it again.”

you froze. what’s he getting at? you thought, removing your phone from your ear for a second in what seemed like disbelief. “what? are you deaf-“

“you heard me.” his tone slightly sharpened as he cut you off, twisting your stomach all in knots. “…well why’d you stop? keep telling me you hate me.” his words almost coming off as a challenge.

maybe if you weren’t so pissed off at Toji you would’ve heard the zip! that emerged not long after his last few words.

the demand from toji sent a thrilling heat to your cheeks, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. At this point, he’d make you repeat it until you forced yourself to admit you missed him like hell. “you’re actually fucking insane” you hissed, trying to force yourself to sound disgusted, your heart hammering louder and faster in your chest. 

“‘nd yet your still on the phone with me.. hanging on to every word. sweetheart..”, his words suspiciously breathy, not as rough as they were initially, with a hint of amusement laced in his words “if you hated me so badly, you would’ve hung up already. but you can’t, can you?”

you grew internally aggravated at the fact that he could read you so easily, clenching your teeth harder with every word he spoke. 

“Oh, I get it now,” he continued, his voice now taking on a mockingly tone. “You like that shit. that little spark of anger you think scares me off. it’s the most honest thing about you. And it’s all for me.” he cooed in a childish voice.

“what the fuck are you even talking about? The most honest thing? seriously. Are you actually trying to piss me off?” you babbled with anger, “You’re delusional.” your voice wavering slightly.

“Am I?” His chuckle was dark, laced with a dangerous sort of glee. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were lying in that bed of yours, squeezing the outside of your phone like it’s my throat. Maybe wishing it was my hand on yours instead. Or maybe…” Tojis voice getting raspier by the minute, “You’re thinking about what it’d feel like if I pinned you down. made ya’ say it to my face.” he teased in a whisper, almost as if he were taking pleasure in his own sick and twisted scenario. you could practically hear his mischievous grin through the phone.

but nonetheless, a sharp heat pooled in your stomach, your body physically reacting and slightly arching off your bed in response. “fuck I hate you..” you uttered out of frustration followed by a sigh, pinching the space in between your eyebrows and scrunching up your face in response. your voice slightly trembling in a way that made you cringe.

then suddenly, toji groaned. you almost hung up the phone then and there. the sound sent absolute shivers down your spine. “y/n,” he let out, “s-say it again.”

was he trying to tease you? until you took it back? if so… it was fucking working.“stop it-” you shot back, your face burning now.

“you don’t really want me to.” Tojis voice was a velvety poison, wrapping around you. trapping you. “you must want me to make you repeat yourself. over and over. until you choke on it.”

“f-fuck you.” you shut your eyes tightly. trying to maintain the facade of hating Tojis guts entirely (& failing miserably).

“you’d love that would’nt you?” his laugh low and almost out of breath, enjoying every second of this. “You jus’ don’t realize how much I love hearing that you hate me. you can’t even pretend to hate me, and we both know it. but the way you sound like you uhngh— mean it…” his words were followed with a slow exhale. making your thighs press together instantly. 

“Toji—“

“Louder,” he interrupted, the sick request lathered in a sinful tone. “say it like you’re about to break.”

“I hate you!” you almost screamed, more out of desperation to just shut him the hell up more than anything else.

a low groan, transitioning into a flamboyant moan grumbled through the speaker, and for a moment, you swear you could hear his breaths getting shorter and shorter. quicker. as if he were in a rush. “F-Fuck that’s good..” his voice deep and ragged. you started to hear a faint squelching in the distance of Tojis mic. your attitude slowly fading and sitting up in your bed as if that would help you hear it better. “keep going. tell me again.”

in that moment, you tried to decipher if toji meant for you to hear his length being fucked into his fist, living out some kind of sick fantasy, or if he were trying to keep up a front and act like he simply wanted you to regret your words. if that were the case, he’d been doing terribly.

you knew exactly what he was doing.

you could practically picture in your head what the scene would look like. Toji, one hand holding the phone to his ear, the other stroking viciously up and down his huge length, from the veins along it crossing every which way, to the pink curved tip. his legs sprawled out along his bed sheets and his boxers still hung around his ankles, head cocked back with his mouth lazily in the shape of an o, almost drooling while he listened to you talk. you also imagined that same face he made before he came, making him look frustrated. focused even. focused on one thing. the whole scenario was making you unbelievably wet, your cunt throbbing uncontrollably.

your mouth opened, but the words just didn’t come out. silence only stretching once again, his breath along with the faint squelching sound in the distance being the only source of noise on the line. it made your stomach flutter furiously. and just when you thought you’d broke him, his voice turned soft. too soft. the same voice he used when he wanted something from you. when he was desperate. Toji was never one to go below his “normal self” to get what he wants. but his overwhelming power only ever so often would be loosened. only ever for you.

“hey y/n.”

“…y-yes?” Your pulse quickened as his voice grew softer. darker. The way he drawed out your name made your thighs press together involuntarily. you suddenly heard three rough knocks through your front door, making you sit up in your bed, your blood running cold as you look towards your bedroom door.

“open this door for me.”

You stared at the door, heart pounding in your chest. how the fuck did he get here so fast? wasn’t he just?… His voice came through again, deeper this time, dripping with something dangerous.

“come on sweetheart. don’t make me break it down.”

in that moment you were unsure if you were terrified or thrilled. who would’ve known Toji was such a masochist?

#suprised toji can even afford a phone fr

#this has been sitting in my drafts! felt silly, might delete later

[neuvilette-tea-party]

｡ﾟ•┈୨ Le temps de guérir Part 1 ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Steb x F!reader

The herald's grip just released and all the Medics organize helps to all the wounded, you are no exception. That's when your dear Mentor reappears, wounded, disoriented, and definitely mute...

Tags: angst, pining, Steb definitely has guilt and PTSD, slow burn, trust the process

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

“There...” You judge with a voice you want comforting, “Your wounds are minor.” You tidy up your utensils in your pouches, infinitely relieved that your mentor is okay. The wounds were impressive but superficial.  

Steb was your mentor for almost two years, teaching you medicine in warzones and you grew incredibly attached to the aquatic Vastaya Enforcer. Too attached for a simple Mentor/protegé relationship to be honest, but you keep it professional. Steb never appeared inclined to try relationships other than cordial and friendly with his colleagues and kept his private life a secret. 

For all you know, he could be happily married with a large family and you would be none the wiser!   

But when you saw the blood on his blue jacket while he was helping a wounded civilian to reach the infirmary tents, you almost dropped everything to rush to him. You managed to grab his arm at some point to force him to sit down and let you examine his body. You disinfected and dressed the wounds cautiously, making sure not to cause him pain in the process. He let you do it, in his usual mutism. 

But he is... more silent than usual. 

His muscles are also hard, contracted like under a lot of tension that he cannot get rid of. You refrain from proposing a massage, not that you would mind, but he is more modest than the usual civilian, he would probably not tolerate such contact. 

Fair enough. 

You check the bandages one last time, standing behind him, silencing your beating heart. This is the first time you see him without a shirt and you wish it would have been in other circumstances…You gently pat his naked shoulder. 

“There you go, Steb.” You say warmly. 

He turns his head towards you and contemplates your face in silence. You thought he was about to say something but he just... looks at you, mute, detailing all of your face so intensely you do not know what to do under such scrutiny. 

“Hum.... Is there a problem?” You finally ask, your throat dry before his gaze. 

He blinks, like he realized he was fixing you and slowly shakes his head, his gaze returning to the ground, but he takes your hand holding his shoulder in his, and squeezes it as to say thank you. 

“You are welcome Steb.” You warmly say, still a bit shaken. 

You take off your hand and it seems to you he tries to hold it back... 

But that must be your delusion speaking. 

“Do you hold on?” You ask, turning your back to him to observe your two hands covered in dead scales. 

His organism has evidently been put through a lot of stress. You wash them and make some order on the table, putting the soiled instruments in a sink while the sterilized ones return in a large drawer. 

You only hear a deep sigh in response. Understandable. Everything happened so quickly... Ambessa’s army, the herald,... That freaky mind stuff they did, still gives you shivers down your spine. But as soon as your mind was freed from the Herald’s influence, all the medics started to organize themself, rushing to the victims despite their own wounds and fears. You have been running in all directions for almost 24 hours by now and only now did you cross paths with your dear aquatic Vastaya...  

You turn back to your mentor, cleaning a scalpel with an alcoholic wipe. 

“What about Maddie and Loris?” You ask, “I did not see them anywhere.” 

A single shudder courses him and his shoulders lower like all strength left him, elbows resting on his knees he passes a hand in his hair with another sigh. 

Oh... 

You leave the scalpel to the side and pull on the tent’s opening to close it, giving you a bit of intimacy. You come kneeling in front of him, trying to catch a glimpse of his turquoise gaze. 

“Steb...” You try, “Do you want to talk about it?” You offer soflty. 

His nostrils flare in a clear no. Whatever happened, he isn’t willing to talk about it, at least not now... Or just not to you... 

You boldly caress his cheek, making him angle his head towards you. So many emotions lay in his blue eyes 

Confusion 

Pain 

tenderness 

Shame 

Embarrasment 

Sadness 

You offer him a gentle and supportive smile. 

“Whatever happened... It was not your fault, Steb.” You say gently. 

You know nothing of what happened, but you know for a fact that Steb always does good and tries his best all the time. 

You know it in your soul. 

His pupils widen at your words and his cheek scales wave a single time as his ears perk up, proof of his inner turmoil. 

“It was not your fault, I know it.” You repeat in a whisper, giving him your undying support. 

He lets out a short breath, like he was holding it all this time, and his own hand clasps around yours, brushing his cheek in your palm softly. He seems to savor the contact and your words like it was everything he wanted to hear. 

The only words he desperatly needed to hear to go on. 

You stand up, looking into his ocean eyes, drowning with pleasure in his intelligent gaze, your thumb brushing his cheek scales fondly. 

“And if anyone dares say it is your fault, I’ll personally handle them, you can count on me.” You grin tightly, trying to make him smile too. 

Steb considers you before slowly closing his eyes and brushing his cheek in your palm before pulling your hand to his lips and tenderly kissing the supple flesh like a precious relic. 

You open your mouth agape at that move and before you can take off your hand he stands up too, towering with all his height, looking down at you, and takes a step forward. 

Caught unaware you take a step back and he follows until your lower back hits a table, blocking you between the furniture and Steb’s tall body. He did not release your hand and his own comes to cup your cheek infinitely softly, caressing the skin with the tip of his magical fingers like he would brush the petals of a rose. 

“...Steb?” You ask with a dry throat, unsure of what came over him. 

He details... 

No 

Devour your face with his eyes, pressing his body against yours, gently tilting your head back as he leans forward, brushing the tips of your noses together... 

Your breath gets stuck in your throat while his cheek scales wave and his ears shake, tension coursing his muscles like a dark ocean, keeping you on your toes. He looks deeply into your eyes like he could read your soul through them, his third eyelid blinking once. 

He seems to wait for something 

From you 

Your consent  

Obviously. 

Your brain completely blue screens, leaving you absolutely useless between his hands.  

What the hell is happening? Your mentor, about whom you’ve been fantasizing a romantic life with for two years, the man you headcannoned was already married, the man you ardently desired and thought was dead during the attack before reappearing like a flower, wounded but alive, awaits your permission to kiss you? 

Your trembling free hand discreetly pinches the skin of your thighs, making you wince and realize that no, you are not dreaming nor hallucinating this scene... 

This 

This is all you ever wanted 

To know his embrace and warmth against your body, to feel his beating heart against your palm, his hands roaming your skin, his lips brushing yours and his eyes telling you all the love no words on the planet could ever describe... 

Waking up in his arms and eating breakfast together, going to work hand in hand and waiting for the other at your favorite café, go back to the same house you both call home, but it always feels empty and cold in the other’s absence... 

You must have hit your head in the attack 

This is the only logical explanation. 

He never demonstrated inclinations toward you. Sure he relaxed enough around you to let the stoic mask slip occasionally, but this is so incredibly rare, you are no closer to him than Maddie or Loris. 

He... 

“Steb, no.” You finally breathe after a difficult gulp. 

His eyes round up slightly as his cheek fins freeze still. 

“Steb, you must be in some sort of shock. You are wounded and disoriented, you do not know what you are doing.” You continue, “Sleep for a bit, I’ll bring you a warm meal after, all right? You... You need to rest.” 

This is for the best. 

He doesn’t know what he is doing, he might regret it later!  

You are his former protege and friend, this is not like him. 

Out of respect for him, you must stop this madness. He is in no state to consent himself. 

He considers you, shock appearing in his turquoise eyes as his breath gets stuck in his throat. His ears lower as he takes a step back, letting his hands fall back to his side and you cannot help but feel like one of you two made a huge mistake right now. 

But you can’t say who. 

You force your mouth into a friendly smile and gently guide him back to sit on the bunk. 

“There... Take a nap, I’ll bring you something to eat, you must be starving. Lay down, make yourself comfortable. I... I will come back.” 

You exit the tent in shambles while Steb fixed the ceiling intently. 

You pace the entire camp, your brain scrambled, trying to make sense of what happened, biting down your thumb’s nail. 

Steb... Isn’t like himself, you saw it yourself. He needs care and rest, but maybe not from you... 

When you reenter the tent with a fuming lentil curry, Steb and his uniform are nowhere to be found. 

Like they were never here to begin with... 

[cho-aaacho]

Jealousy isn't really your style, is it?

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.

Gojo Satoru

He becomes increasingly silent—too silent until you can't detect his emotion. His appetite vanished as waves of jealousy showered on his mind. You don't even notice that at first, thinking he might be tired from work.

However, as the sun goes down to the horizon and is replaced by the moonlight, his smile fades whenever your eyes meet his. He refrains from calling you endearing nicknames, skips the usual sensual morning kiss, and avoids his favorite cookies. When you suggest playing video games, Gojo simply groans and leaves you alone.

What's happening to him? Did you hurt your sweetheart? No. Until the sky falls, you don't have a heart to hurt your sweetheart.

You can't let the stillness linger; you can't leave everything unresolved. It's so hurtful, to be honest. Why would Gojo be so selfish like this? You need to find out what's going on with your little sweetheart.

That night, Gojo stood in his favorite spot within the apartment, drowning in the beautiful goldfish in the aquarium. Golden and yellow, reflected in his eyes like sunflower petals.

He gently tapped his finger on the aquarium's glass, making the whole atmosphere feel so cold. Gojo seemed unusually relaxed, in contrast to the person he once was. 

"I know I might come off as a boring and annoying man. People often say that, and I usually don't care about it at all because I understand it's not important. But when it comes from you—please... I don't want to hear that."

You do not quite understand what he means, but Gojo appears deeply hurt. His azure eyes, his words, his breath, the cologne he uses this time, the way he gazes at you—something feels off and unplaced.

This is the first time you've seen him so blue and so pained that the warmth in his lovely presence is almost undetectable. Everything is gone.

"Hey, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it hurts me when you smile at other guys. I want you to be mine, and only mine, and no one else. Please don't do that again, because you're irreplaceable. If I lose you, I can't find another like you."

Geto Suguru 

At first, he doesn't show his jealousy because Geto is the sweetest.

However, there comes a moment when he becomes more affectionate—increased physical touch, frequent kisses, hugs, showering you with praise, texting you almost every hour.

And when he does these things, he always leaves a sarcastic comment like, "I'm a better man, aren't I?" or "Can you see how much I care about you more than anyone else?"

and "I hope you're not blind enough to understand my affection."

also "I know you're not stupid enough to leave me alone. Because I hate being a loner."

It's somewhat annoying because Geto rarely behaves like this. It's simply... so strange, leaving you confused about whether it's a prank by the twins, if something horrible has hit him, or maybe he is too much into reading a weird romantic novel.

That morning, when you are sleeping on his lap, feeling his love, warmth, and kindness, he delicately traces his fingertips across your cheeks, down to your jawline, then meanders to your nose, pinching it gently, leaving a small chuckle before circling back to playfully tease the contour of your lips.

He leaned closer, sealing a gentle kiss on the nose tip and moving before grazing your lips with a small nibble. "Did Satoru ever kiss you like this? I doubt he has done this to you."

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion etching your expression. "What do you mean, Suguru-kun?"

He sighed. "Don't think I haven't noticed, cutie. I may not match Satoru's strength, but I'm not stupid. What were you up to with him last week? You seemed quite charmed with him, didn't you?"

He added. "Should I end both of you, so he can't have you and you can't have him? But I lack the heart to harm you, sweet love. Stop talking with that man. Because I hate sharing my love with someone else."

Nanami Kento

A tough man, he doesn't even realize if jealousy is starting to invade him; perhaps you might label it as denial. 

He puts on a facade that everything is fine, brushing off any concerns by assuming them to be mere imagination or work-induced stress.

No, you didn't cheat or talk with another man. You're always a nice woman to Nanami Kento, and of course, never in your wildest dreams will you hurt your man. 

However, a weird sensation starts to trouble him the next day when his coworkers engage in silly gossip about him and you. 

Whispers float behind him, dripping with a sarcastic tone like, "How could a good woman like her date someone like Nanami-san? He's so boring."

and someone chimes in. "Yeah, I heard she dumped Gojo-san and went with him; why does she think like that?"

From that moment onward, everything feels upside down.

Each day, each time, every time he sees your face, catches your gaze, and hears your voice echoing in his ears, all of these hurt him. 

He feels like he doesn't deserve you and thinks that perhaps you can find another guy, someone special, someplace that would make you safe and happy, someone who could make you feel at home whenever you run to them. 

And that man is not me.

"I realize I might not be as caring as other men, or perhaps I come off as too boring for someone like you. Honestly, I don't wish for your kindness to be shared with anyone else—even a fleeting smile from you stirs a deep ache within me. Maybe it's an obsession, but if you allow me to share my jealousy, I don't want you to meet that guy, Gojo Satoru. For heaven's sake, I fear losing all control and ending up hurting you. I love you." 

Fushiguro Megumi

Honestly, his anger management is the worst. There are scenes when he appears calm, collected, and cute, but, again, it's merely a facade he is creating, especially in your presence. 

When the flames of jealousy shower on Megumi, flirting with his life, everything transforms into a hellish field.

He loses his temper and becomes easily offended whenever Yuuji attempts to engage in conversation with him, roasting everyone in sight. The situation continues until Maki beats him and tells him how annoying he is.

He has a terrible urge to throw punches at everyone, driven by the need to tell them that you belong to him. He needs to make it clear that you're already committed to someone else and that your heart is sealed with Fushiguro Megumi. Only with that man and no one else.

His intention is not just to show his obsession but also to dissuade others from bothering both of you. He longs to compel them to kneel, satisfying his fleeting sense of pride.

It's pretty hilarious because whenever Gojo catches wind of it, he bursts into laughter and playfully teases Megumi all day. Well, it's natural for anyone to have jealousy within them, but... doesn't Megumi take it a bit too far?

You've observed this pattern and tried to convince your dear boyfriend that everything around him is just his imagination. He shouldn't be worrying, and he just hurts himself by treating people like that.

Yet, Megumi is Megumi.

"I don't think I'm overreacting to this. When I'm upset, I express it openly. It's frustrating when people assume I'm obsessed with you—I'm not. I just don't want you to get involved with someone who isn't worth it for you. I fear you'll end up hurt. You can choose me; I can prove not only to you but to everyone that I am the one who truly deserves you."

Choso

Choso isn't typically the jealous type, but when he notices a certain closeness between you and his brothers, everything changes. 

He genuinely cares for his brothers, going to great lengths to ensure their happiness and love. He values the bond you share with his brothers and cherishes the love and affection you have for each other.

However...

It's hard for him to put it into words. Everything is stuck in his throat and sealed inside his head. 

Every time he sees you with his brothers blossoming an indescribable feeling within him, it's a burning sensation that's hard to bear. The flame is starting to burn him alive.

The way you share meals with them or laugh at their jokes—all of these irritate him to the point that they make his heart beat so fast. Choso is aware that these emotions are too complicated; he can't hate his brothers, but the heart has a way of contradicting logic. 

How could God put love in his heart?

He fondly recalls the first snow you experienced together, the gentle embrace of summer against his skin, and the golden glow of spring's sun. 

But he still wonders when he falls in love with you. Maybe since the first time he met you? Or else?

"I find immense joy in sharing my time and days with you. My brothers seem to love you as well. Everything about you is beautiful, and I cherish the moments we share. I fear losing you and our precious time; that's why I act this way when you're with them. I want to be the one you choose."

[ladyymiisa]

UP SO LATE?

summary: a late night visit from your sweet boyfriend!

tags: hawks x fem!reader, fluff, a bit of spice but it’s barely there like you have to squint to see it

author’s note: YEAAAHHH WE ARE SO BACK BABY i’ve had this idea for months now im so glad i could finally write it out it was eating me up 🤞 also on a scale of 1 to 10 how wiling would you guys be to read obey me fics 😋

it happens during the late hours of the night, when you're completely worn out from a long day of work, after you've showered, applied all of the lotions in your bathroom, and changed into your coziest pajamas. by the time you’re usually done, your eyes can barely stay open from how tired you are, and all you can think about is sleep.

just like clockwork, right as you settle into the most comfortable position in bed, you hear it: three knocks on your balcony door—one firm, two light. the all too familiar signal that announces his presence.

despite the tiredness weighing down your limbs and your body’s desperate plea to stay cocooned in the warmth of your blankets, the excitement of seeing him always overcomes your exhaustion. it drives you to get out of bed quickly, your feet carrying you eagerly to the balcony to let keigo inside.

a fact about keigo is that he never fails to arrive with some sort of gift for you. whether it’s a small flower he picked up on his way or a box of chocolates he knows you particularly enjoy, he always comes bearing something. perhaps it’s his way of compensating for the lateness of his visits.

tonight is no different. without even glancing at the shopping bag he’s holding, you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.

the action causes keigo to let out a surprised sound, which quickly shifts into an amused chuckle. as he adjusts the bag with the help of two feathers, balancing it effortlessly so that the contents inside don’t get damaged, he embraces you back just as tightly. his warmth, mingled with the faint scent of his cologne and the crisp night air, envelops you entirely, making you acutely aware of just how much you had missed him during the day.

“looks like someone’s quite eager to see me,” keigo remarks teasingly, his voice partially muffled by your hair as he plants a gentle kiss to your head. “you almost knocked the daylights out of me, babe.”

instead of giving keigo a verbal response, you nuzzle further into his shoulder, concealing your burning cheeks from his view. he laughs again, which prompts you to grumble softly against his jacket.

“keep acting cheeky and you might end up sleeping on the balcony,” you warn keigo, drawing back from the embrace to face him directly. despite your words, your arms remain looped comfortably around his neck.

now that you can clearly see his face, you take notice of the faint blush reaching the tips of his ears. sly bastard, he has the audacity to tease you as if he were any better. fortunately for him, being the considerate girlfriend that you are, you decide to refrain from commenting on it.

unfortunately for you, keigo’s fluster is short-lived. he quickly becomes more daring as his hands, which were previously caressing the small of your back, move to rest on your hips. he gives them a gentle squeeze, drawing you closer to his body while his fingers trail lightly along your sides.

honey-shaded eyes gaze at you devilishly. your warning appears to have no effect on keigo; if anything, it seems to amuse him further.

he hums softly, a lazy grin playing on his lips. “oh, really? you’d actually deprive your poor, overworked boyfriend of your warm bed?” he leans in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “and your touch? your warmth?”

before you can even register it, his lips begin to trace a path of feather-light kisses from your cheek to your jaw, gradually moving towards your neck with slow, carefully practiced pecks. he’s clearly aware of the effect he has on your body, for the moment his teeth intentionally bite into that particular spot that has your mind short-circuiting, any retort you had prepared fades away. the way he works you up so easily is enough to erase any trace of tiredness from your body, replacing it with newfound excitement instead.

your arms tighten their hold around his neck. he feels the way your fingers entangle themselves into his hair, giving it a firm tug. the sensation causes him to emit a low, appreciative grunt against your skin. as keigo continues to kiss, lick and suck along your neck, you find yourself unable to suppress the soft moans that fall from your lips any longer. the moment his ears pick up on them, he promptly lifts you, his hands moving beneath your ass to support your weight.

without any complaints, you wrap your legs around his waist, allowing yourself to yield completely to his touch. at this point, there’s no use in trying to fight back. you’re in for a long, long night.

as keigo slides the balcony door open and carries you into the bedroom, he takes care that his feathers place the shopping bag carefully on your desk. seems like you won’t be needing the lingerie set inside it tonight. no matter, he’ll ensure that you find use for it next time.

[onlyseokmins]

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you." 

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!" 

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care. 

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 

You're honestly a little offended. 

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 

"Good thing I'm flexible." 

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Cool ass party

Miguel Diaz X Female! Reader

!SPOILER WARING FOR COBRA KAI SEASON 6!

Summary: When Miguel goes to the frat party, he's far from thinking he's going to get the girl.

Warning: Use of Y/n/ violence/ swearing/ mention of blood/ alcohol/ kinda heavy makeout/ Google translte spanish/ mention of body parts?/

Word count: 1.2k

To be honest, I didn’t know why I followed Miguel, Demetri and Hawk at the college tour. I didn’t even know which college I wanted to go to, but still, I followed the guys while a random dude walked in front of us. ‘’You really think we got a chance at M.I.T?’’ Demetri asked us. I looked at Miguel with an ‘His he for real?’ look in my eyes. ‘’Dude, you guys are the Binary Brothers, if M.I.T don’t accept you, they’re stupid as fuck’’ I exclaim with a laugh in my throat. Hawk smiled as we looked around. ‘’Y/n, are you considering coming with me here?’’ Miguel shyly asked. I take a deep breath as I look at the ground.

Before I can answer, the tour guide gets tackled on the ground by two familiar faces. ‘’Kyler? Brucks? What the hell?’’ Demetri mumbles as we connect the dots. ‘’Rhea? Lip, Lip’s friend? Weird chick?! What are you guys doing here?’’ Kyler exclaimed.

After catching up with our ‘old friends’ and eating, Kyler decided to bring us to our first frat party. I usually avoid frat house’s parties, but since I was with guys that I trusted, I decided to go. I wasn’t dressed to go to a party, but who cared? As we entered the room, I stick with Miguel, plus he was my crush, so it was another reason to stay with him. Frat boys everywhere, sorority girls glued to them, alcohol, smoke and the smell of sex filled my nostrils and my eyes. ‘’That’s something’’ Hawk exclaimed, making us laugh. ‘’Let’s just, lay low, stick together and keep an eye on your drinks. We’ll be fine’’ I try to convince them.

There was a blur between the time we arrived and now, why Miguel was sticking up to Kyler was confusing. But what was more confusing was the way Miguel’s body and mine moved together. The way his hands traveled my body in a sky but sensual way. When I turned to face him, our mouths were almost on the other. I could feel his breath on my skin. The look in his eyes was almost enough to get me to throw my self control out the window. I kept looking at his eyes and his lips, I needed to kiss him. As I leaned forward, something stopped us. ‘’Where’s my vacuum?!’’ The asshole in ‘charge’ of the frat yelled, referring to Kyler. Miguel and I turned our head to our ex-bully. ‘’Men, I ain’t gonna clean that’’ Kyler tried to stand up for himself. My dance partner and I made our way closer to Kyler, in case something happened. We were joined by Hawk and Demetri, who were as clueless as we were. After Kyler tried to tell the guy off, again, things got heated, and Miguel stepped in. ‘’Enough!’’ he yelled, getting everyone’s attention. Someone stopped the music, making it more dramatic. Kyler got up from the floor, cleaned his mouth from the dirty food he picked up. ‘’Why don’t you tell him the truth?’’ Miguel confronted the frat ‘king’. ‘’The truth about what, man?’’ Kyler asked. ‘’Well, we had a good run, but you’re never getting into this frat’’ the douchebag said.

Kyler took a second to think before he grabbed a girl’s drink before pouring it on the guy’s head. I had to refrain a laugh as Hawk ate popcorn because of how good the entertainement was. The douchebag, who’s ego got hurt, tried to punch Kyler, but he was quicker and blocked it. ‘’Bitch, don’t you know, I know karate!?’’ he exclaimed before pushing the guy on a metal pole.

And there it was, another karate brawl. But this time, it was funnier than the others I’ve been apart of. Demetri, Hawk, Miguel, Kyler and I were all working together, it was amazing. But, at one point, guys started to land punches on me. But with the adrenaline, I didn’t feel any of it. ‘’Let’s go before campus security comes!’’ Kyler exclaims. As we all ran outside, I burst out laughing. ‘’That was a cool ass party" I yell, laughing. Miguel, for some reason, puts his arm around my shoulder as we ran across campus.

‘’Oh, you’re bleeding’’ Miguel said as we walked home, I lived two streets away from him. ‘’Your hair was in the way, that’s why we didn’t notice, and your lip too.’’ He says as he innocently touches my lower lip. Realizing what he’s doing, he quickly moves his hand away. ‘’I’m sorry, I, uh.’’ He stuttered. I smile as we arrived in front of his apartment block. ‘’You’re bleeding too, do you need help cleaning it up?’’ I suggest. Miguel nods and leads the way to his apartment. No one was home.

‘’It was a hell of a Superman punch.’’ Miguel complimented as I put butterfly closures on his wound. I blush and look down. ‘’All done’’ ‘’Good, it’s your turn now’’ Miguel orders. I sit on the bathroom counter as Miguel picks what he needs from the first aid kit. I look at him and smile. ‘’What’s with the smile?’’ he asks, smiling too. He delicately starts to clean the blood of my forehead, next the one on my lip. ‘’I enjoyed myself today. It was nice dancing with you’’ I whispered. Miguel blush and gets back to his task. ‘’I enjoyed dancing with you too.’’ He says back, with a flirty tone. While he works on my forehead, I say nothing, the tension in the small bathroom speaks for itself. The way we maintain eye contact speaks for itself. His brown eyes are deeply into mine and my self control is about to expire.

‘’This might hurt’’ he warns before disinfecting my lip. ‘’Y’a know, if I was a random girl, I’d ask how you know so much about fixing lips. But each time you get into a fight, I’m there’’ I chuckle. Miguel smiles. ‘’Yeah, and each time I think you look good kicking everyone’s ass’’ he flirts back. I almost fold, but I love to flirt with people. ‘’You think I look good, Diaz?’’ I reply. Seeing how red he turned when I called him by his last name, it's something I’m going to do again. ‘’Of course, I don’t think there’s anything hotter than you kicking someone’s ass.’’ he moves a little closer to me. His thumb caresses my lower lip as he uses the triangle method on me, which works. ‘’You wanna kiss me, Diaz?’’ He swallows pretty hard, but still keeps his composure. ‘’Please, you have such pretty lips. I really want to kiss you’’ he whispers, millimetres away from my lips. ‘’Then do it, Diaz’’ I mumbled before I lean in, our lips finally touching.

The kiss got heated pretty fast, Miguel’s hands making his was on my body fast. The only time we pull away from each other is to take our breath. The kiss leaves us breathless, our chest rising up and down as his black curls are getting messier and messier. ‘’I wanted to do that for so long’’ Miguel said with his dry throat. Our lips collapse together again, I wrap my legs around his waist as my hands tugs his hair. One of his hands make his way on my thigh, getting dangerously close to my wet core.

‘’Hola, ¿hay alguien en casa?’’ Miguel’s grandma announces as she enters the house. ‘’Shit, my grandma. I thought she was at the grocery store’’ Miguel babbles as he tries to fix himself. I giggle and fix my hair. ‘’Don’t worry, I’ll sneak off by that window.’’ I smile, looking at the small window. He tries to come up with an apology, but I cut him. I slide off the counter and place a quick kiss to his lips. ‘’You can apologize for your grandma later, I’ll leave my window unlock tonight, Diaz’’

[yaut-jaknowit]

Back again with yet another idea -🥤

So this could be with any of the beans but I was thinking that the reader got caught by some bad bloods or human and experimented on. One of those being something that slowly transforms them into a yautja. The reader might try to hide this from their mate (like the scales slowly appearing, how sensitive your senses are becoming) but the reader can’t hide much from an experienced yautja

The Wrong Secret to Hold

Pairings: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm (needing to rip off skin) (?)

Word Count: 2334

Summary: Ahtaal may no be an enforcer but when he found out you were stolen right off of his ship, he became one. Just for that reason. He tracked you down through the stars until he was able to pinpoint your location. From there, he tore apart the bad bloods who stole you. But it was already too late. The bad bloods had already planted a seed.

Author Note: I love the fact you called them beans! I'm going to refer to them like that for now on. It's always great to see from you Cup Anon!

Masterlist

Ao3

Three weeks has passed since Athaal saved you from a cunning duo of Bad Bloods. He may not be an enforcer but he took upon himself to kill them after they kidnapped you. Right from the safety of his spacecraft. A mistake he has since learned from, increasing the security of the ship’s systems. He had almost lost you, his mate.

After he retrieved you, gaining the two skulls of those who wronged you. Both of them hang nicely above your shared bed. A bed you were curled up in, even after being awake for at least three hours. Three hours of rest you desperately needed. In the end, they were lost.

The nest like bed built into the floor was usually comfort, perfect to curl up in and nap. Everything was too much. The room was too cold. The air too dry. The blankets too scratchy. Then, there was the noise of the engines. They caused a raging headache to pound in your skull, driving away every rational thought in your mind.

Everything was too much.

This had progressed ever since Ahtaal saved you from those Bad Bloods. Your memory of your time with them was foggy, blurry of what they might have done to you. It wasn’t long they held you but they had changed something in you. You blamed it on the trauma they had put you through, part of the reason why you couldn’t recall what happened to you.

Athaal saw an uptick in your heartbeats. Not by much, only ten on average, but called it normal. Fear of a prey animal only reacting. That was that.

Then, the oversensitivity began to grow. Even the clothes Athaal had stolen for you from earth were too much to put on. Yet, your mind warred on the fact being naked was bad or being driving into insanity when you could feel your own skin. You had to reframe yourself from scratching your skin off every time you breathed.

All the blankets had been pushed of out the massive concave bed. They had been touching you, grazing your skin. The feel of them made you want crawl out of your own body and throw yourself into a pit of lava.

As this progressed as well, you refrained from telling Athaal. He’s been stressed since you’ve been napped right from underneath his mandibles. He’s been working hard on the ship, ensuring the same thing never happens to you again. Plus, with the killing, he also had to make a case against his clan’s court about the legal execution of the Bad Bloods. Not that the seem to disagree but it all revolve around the honor code. To keep the balances and checks in their strict system.

The last thing that Athaal needed added to his plate was whatever was affecting you. It would pass. It was just trauma. Your scenes overworking to keep you safe after such an attack.

Until you wondered into the bathroom to relieve yourself only to find… scales?! Your hands grasped the porcelain sink, heart beating at a thousand miles per second. You felt lightheaded, legs ready to give out at any moment. There were scales starting to grow on your chest.

Your fingertips gingerly touched the rough patches and winced since they were sensitive too. Tears burned your eyes, right on the edge of falling. Why was this happening to you? What was happening to you?! There’s no scientific reason for something like this to occur. You didn’t know of any disease in the universe that could cause this to appear.

What strength you had left, you stumbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it. The softness of the bed irritated your skin and made it feel like hot pokers were digging into where the cushion touched you. With an annoyed growl, you climbed back out and laid on your back.

The floor was unforgiving, cool to the touch. Yet, it was an improvement to the bed that made you want to desperately claw at your own skin. You huffed and curled up into a ball, hands covering your head as if protecting you from an attack. Your scenes were still on fire, driving you up the nearest wall. But, the energy to move was gone. Then, you were asleep. A fitful, restless sleep.

Raging hungry stirred you from your wasteful nap. A growl sounded from the back of your throat, sounding deep and dangerous. You stretched out only to bump into something warm. You froze. Then, slowly, you creeped your gaze over your shoulder to find the red form of Ahtaal sleeping at your back, chest facing you. Fear creeped into your heart, pumping into your veins. The lump in your throat was swallowed down thought. He wasn’t awake.

One of his arms was draped over your torso and kept you securely pressed against his body. At any other time, you would’ve enjoyed this soft moment with him. His loving embrace. But his heat, the texture of the scales on his chest. It was overwhelming.

Despite the love for him telling you to endure this discomfort, you grasped his wrist and held it up. It weighed a lot due to the muscles that cord it. But, you were able to roll out from underneath him. You climbed out of the bed then stopped and turned to look down at him for a fleeting moment. He was still, breathing normal, eyes closed. He hadn’t woken up.

A soft sigh of relief left you. You about faced again and snuck away towards the kitchen. Anything to quell this pang of hunger that curled and boiled deep inside of you. In all of your years, you’ve never felt like before. Even if you hadn’t ate the day before, and you had.

The open kitchen was dark as you worked inside of it, not needing light on to see. You worked diligently. Two bowls of fruits and a plate of dried meat was your preparing meal. Even that seemed not to be enough for you in the sight of your eyes.

Unease crawled up your spine. Instinct roared its head. A growl rumbled from the depths of your chest as you leaned over your prepare food, eyes darting out to the open space. Your teeth bared.

Ahtaal stood in the doorway of the kitchen, posture lax but eyes watchful. Your growl lessened until he took a step towards you. One of your hands slammed down on the counter. Part of the warnings that ranged from you not to step an inch closer. This was your food. No one would take it from you.

Through the darkness of the ship, you saw the way his head jerked back and he didn’t move any closer. The whisper of your name rolled off of his forked tongue. Questioning. Your piercing gaze refused to move away from the threat that could take away your nourishment. Food you were desperate to consume but not with him there. Eating would be an opportunity for attack.

His dark form stepped back and eased the pressure his presence seemed to caused to you. Your growled lightened slightly but your eyes didn’t wander. They were pinned strictly on him. His brows furrowed before he slowly knelt down. Anything to appear he wasn’t a threat to you, his mate. Submissive as the position seemed, he did it for you.

Your name fell from his tongue again. That’s when your scenes, this primal instinct started to clear. You shook your head, eyes flickering down to the floor. All of your thoughts scrambled as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

One of your hands covered your mouth. What was that? Terror overtook every emotion inside of you. Your gaze met his again but as the prey you were. The exit was blocked by his kneeling body. Your heart pounded like a bird desperate for escape. You back away from him and the food, back meeting the wall opposite to him.

“Little one?” he softly called out to you.

Those Bad Bloods. They had done something terrible to you. There was something terrible wrong with you now. Your terrified gaze met his again. Then, you bolted.

Strong arms ensnared around your torso before you could escape. Heat pressed against your back. Your nails raked down thick scales, failing to cause any damage. Your legs kicked and hits his thighs and stomach but did nothing to deter him. Ahtaal traps your back to his chest and stand. Now, you were up in the air as he pinned you to him.

The restless sleep and everyday waking up more tired than the day before caught up to you. The adrenaline couldn’t keep up. You slowly go limp in his hold, chest heaving for breaths.

Ahtaal sets you back down on the ground and spins you around to face him. Those dark eyes of his are scanning every inch of your face and body. They narrowed down on your eyes. His hand pinched your jaw and dragged your head up. “Your eyes… they’re lightly glowing,” he grounded out. You felt his claws digging into the flesh of your cheeks for a moment.

His gaze continued until it notices the rough patch on your chest. The red giant pushes you back until your shoulder blades touched a wall. A hand softly encircling your throat to keep you pinned. He leaned down. His free hand running over the textured skin. You hissed and squirmed in his hold. “Stop, that hurts,” you whined, voice grumbler than usual.

Next, he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. You felt his tongue rung across the skin there. Ahtaal tensed and growled shortly.

“You smell like a Yautja.” Instantly, you thought he was thinking you were somehow cheating on him or the Bad Bloods scent still lingered on your skin. He pulled back to look you in the eye again. “But it’s your scent.” The words were softly spoken, as if in disbelief.

The hand trapping your neck drifted up to cup your cheek. “What did they do to you?” he snarled but the anger was directed at the two who stole you from him. The question was meant mainly for himself but opened for you to answer.

You swallowed hard, chest still heaving to calm your racing heart. “I-I don’t know,” you cried, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Something’s wrong with me. Everything’s too loud. Everything’s too much. The air is too dry. It’s cold. My skin… I can feel everything!” Even his hand touching you was starting to drive you insane. The texture was rough against your sensitive skin.

Everything went still. But you could easily hear the engines rumbling, his heart pounding. You could smell his concern, his confusion, his anger. You could read him the same way he could read you.

His furrow deepened before his hand softly left your cheek. It was instant relief. Less contact. Less touch. Less everything.

“I keep the ship colder for you. I lessen the humidity for you,” he muttered and returned to his full height, gaze blank. He was working overtime in his mind. The gears spinning quickly to come up with a solution. You stood leaning against the wall, fingers twitching with the need to rip your own skin off again. “And… you can see in the dark, can’tcha?” Your weak sigh answered him, eyes closing to block out everything.

He took a couple of steps back and shakes his head, trying to deny this. Internally, he was attempting to put the pieces together. To figure out what they have done to his mate. Yet, none of it made sense. The site he found you at… those Bad Bloods, they- his mind stopped there. Pausing as the realization dawned upon his form. Experimented. On you. His mate. They had injected something into you to change you from his perfect mate.

A deafening growled tumbled from his chest. Your hands slammed over your ears at the sound. A pained cry leaving your chapped lips. He stopped immediately and even flinched himself. Pauk.

Instantly, his first mission was to find a way to fix this. To fix you. To save you. To help you. A firm, stern gaze passed over his features. He reached out and tilted your head back. Your eyes sliding open to find the dark gaze of your mate on you. “I will find a way to help you. I will scour this entire universe for a cure,” he grounded out, voice low to help ease the pain it may cause to you.

The Yautja was beyond pissed. He wished to go back when he slaughtered those two Bad Bloods and made their death even longer. For all the pain they have caused you that’s currently injuring you. His mandibles clicked against one another in a harsh way.

You believed him. You knew he would. He’s been through thick and thin with you. You are his as much as he is yours. The corresponding marks etched into the backs of your shoulders was physical proof enough. He grunted with a nod then glanced over at forgotten food. “It seems like you have a Yautja appetite,” he stated and pulled away from you. You dipped your head and also gazed at the dishes.

“Come,” he called and strolled over to the plates. Ahtaal picked up all three skillfully and brought them over to the table. “Eat. Eat everything you desire. It will take you time to grow accustom to this new side of you. But I will help you in every step of the way.” If it didn’t hurt, you would’ve hugged and kiss the alien to death.

Slowly, you moved over and gingerly sat down in a seat he designed for your smaller statue. Until your hunger was satisfied, he fed you whatever you wanted and needed. In that moment, you knew you could never want or need anyone else besides him.

[11rosebunny]

Hello! I absolutely love your bofurin posts so much they give me so much joy!! I was wondering if you could write bofurin boys reacting to their partners getting hurt (either by accident ir gettign caught up in a fight) tyyy!!

When you get hurt (BOFURIN + JO TOGAME)

I’m so sorry if you wanted either Mitsuki or Taiga in this, I didn’t add them to this but if you want me to include them please lmk in the requests!

-Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Toma Hiragi, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame

Haruka Sakura

When you come to him all scratched up when he's simply relaxing, it was the least thing he expected from you.

He notices right away based on the scrapes all over your body. Not deep enough to leave a scar but prominent enough for anyone to notice the significant bruises. He almost just stares at you in disbelief for a few seconds with wide eyes before raising his voice a little louder than he meant to.

"What the hell happened to you?!"

He's panicked when dragging you towards him and tries to interview you on what happened. He's a bit confused on what to do next, he's only ever been used to him getting hurt and not anyone around him. After asking you what happened he sort of shims away to get some bandages and a wet cloth to wipe your wounds.

He's calmed down by then when he returns back to you and continues on to help clean your wounds. He did that out of habit due to the fact he's grown up healing his own wounds when you questioned what he was doing.

"Why're you holding, bandages...?"

"...Because I'm gonna clean your wounds, dumbass."

"So rude..."

Hajime Umemiya

He is set off. If it was just an accident, then he doesn't make it a big deal. However, if it was intentional, he's beyond annoyed.

In the past, he's learned how to keep his cool whenever he was disrespected. Even during that instance when Tomiyama had beaten down students from Bofurin, he still managed to stay calm. However, only then things will change when he learns that someone close to him was inflicted with pain such as; Kotoha and you.

It's one of the few times where he lets his morals go. He's aware he's capable of beating the person that hurt you into a bloody pulp but even so, he knows how to restrict himself. It ticks him off to see you hurt so once the conflict is done, he's quiet.

He's still fairly pissed and drags you to come with him back to his house or somewhere secluded where he could heal your wounds himself. He doesn't care if he is also hurt or even a much more worse condition than you are.

Fight him all you want, argue even. The whole entire time, he'll stay silent in an angry mood, mad at himself that he let you get hurt. Once he's done healing you, he won't even allow you to heal him back, he cares more about your well being than his in those moments.

Toma Hiragi

Seeing you beat down and crying, this is one of the very few times he lets himself go vulnerable.

He hates it whenever he sees you depressed. So if he witnesses you getting hurt, it feels like a whole chunk of his body is cut off. Immediately, he tries to quicken up the conflict so it would be over and then check up on you right away. In the moment, he's pissed at you—telling you to back off and rest somewhere for the time being. He'll yell out to you louder than ever before with pure anger in his eyes that could make your blood run cold in just a single second.

Once the conflict is done, he goes back to you as if he's angry at you for getting hurt. He refrains himself from speaking, otherwise if he did he knows he would snap at anything you said—so instead, he quietly patches you up and practically ignores you at whatever you're saying.

He's worried and never wants to see that happen to you again.

Hayato Suo

It's shocking, the moment he sees anyone lay his hands on you, that's when his usual atmosphere changes into something very few people witness from him.

Generally, he comes as a sympathetic, chaotic person. It's something he's built in his charisma for years and enjoys it even (the small teasing and outrageous opinions). So he's kept that level of himself to be the same in almost every single scenario, but once he sees the state you're in, it's different.

He has a hard time taking in what happened, not that he can't process it, but as to why it happened. Once you explain everything to him, he won't say anything to trigger you anymore before gentle healing your wounds. He doesn't want to stress you out and have to make you recall of the horrid situation you got into earlier. 

Afterwards, he'll disappear for a day, no calls, texts, or any sights of where he was.

The next day he comes back you as if nothing happened but once you question about is whereabouts, he tells you,

"Sorry [Name], I was busy having a conference with those people from yesterday." He says smiling warmly before changing the bandage on your face. You had a feeling he did not in fact have a conference with those people.

Jo Togame

He's usually outside a lot, shockingly it's very rare for him to even respond to any of your texts so no he doesn't see your message when you're pleading out to him that you got hurt by someone else.

It takes him a while to even know of your circumstances until he comes pick you up from school and realizes you're taking a bit long while he waits outside for you near the gate. He grows impatient and for the first time and finally checks his phone to see if you said anything. From there, his eyes widen. 

In a flash, he asks around if anyone has seen you and a person finally answers him after asking nearly 10 people.

"Ah, [Last Name]? I saw her walk to the water fountains behind the school." 

In a quicker pace than he usually sets himself in, he walks to where the person told him your last whereabouts, and then, he sees you. 

Using the water to clean up the bloodied stains on your shirt. 

You don't hear his hurried footsteps that come towards you, in your head you honestly thought it was a friend or a teacher that saw the state you were in. You didn't turn around and continued your cleaning, too angry and full of resent. 

What you weren't expecting was the person to place both hands on your shoulders and turn you to face forward.

"Why the hell are you all beaten up?" He says staring deep into your eyes. It's the first time you've ever seen him this jolted rather than his laidback behaviour. He's frantic, worried, and more importantly, angry. 

It takes you a while to get used to his outward personality, you even stutter when telling him what happened as you both settled down in front of a connivence store while you held a cold drink of Ramune on your cheek. He doesn't say much or react but there is a slightest hint of wrath in the way he licks his canine tooth. 

He then gets up without saying a word before placing his hand on the top of your head and ruffling it up with a remorseful smile. 

"You stay here, I'm gonna go get Chouji, alright?"

You nod already knowing what the duo is going to do.

[for-ests]

Fine Line: Gojo Satoru x Reader

summary: friends to lovers, gojo is in love with the campus doctor, and can't hide it any longer. lovesick gojo is my favvveee<3 wc: 4.4k warnings: fluff then SMUT ^^

Once again, Gojo was in your office in the middle of the night.

"What time is it?" you asked, borderline scolded, but refrained from rolling your eyes. After every mission, he would make an excuse to find his way onto your hospital bed. And every single time, he had nothing more than minor scrapes and bruises but would always insist you look over him "just in case."

"Late, I know." He looked somewhat guilty.

"Was this curse too strong for the students again?" you teased, reaching for your gloves but not bothering to put them on. One glance at Gojo, and you knew. You just knew he was there for a different reason. The white-haired sorcerer wasn't physically hurt. He rarely ever was. But now, his excuses to see you were becoming apparent to you and others.

"You could say that." He shook his head, forcing himself to release a chuckle. He was about to cross a very fine line, one that was established the day he met you. But he was only a man, and he needed to at least try and quell the need he felt for you.

It was internal, and Gojo felt like you were one of the only people who truly saw him and took the time to listen to him. After all these years of admiring you in silence, he still couldn't come clean with it. Every time he visited you, his heart twisted with an unquenchable yearning, feeling betrayed and played by fate. He was lost in a sea of emotions, unable to make sense of it all. Despite the turmoil of his everyday life, despite the responsibility that weighed on his shoulders, he found solace in your presence. 

Would it ever go away?

You were like a beacon in the darkness of his world. Your smile illuminated the space, radiating warmth and energy that seemed to chase away the shadows that clouded his mind. Despite having the attention of any woman he could dream of, he could not tear his gaze away from you. Why couldn't he leave you alone? Why couldn't he get you out of his head?

"Y/N, look at me," he called out softly, his voice warm and inviting. It was a desperate plea to draw your attention away from your surroundings and towards the turmoil that raged within his soul.

Catching the seriousness of his tone, you froze, setting down your prep materials. Your eyes carefully rose to meet his, and you almost gasped. Gojo, the strongest man you knew, was on the verge of tears.

“Are you feeling okay?” you asked, almost getting lost in the blue of his glistening eyes. It had always been hard for you to hold his gaze for long, as the intensity of his stare made you flustered. You often wondered if he looked at anyone else like this, talked to them like this, touched them like he had you.

Breath catching in his throat, Gojo saw the subtle hint of concern on your face—it was endearing. You seemed so beautiful and so caring, and it only added to his feeling of helplessness. 

Gently, he grasped your hand and placed it over his heart, letting you feel the rapid beat that betrayed his inner turmoil.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, a hint of vulnerability in his usually confident tone. "But can you do something for me?"

“W-what?” you asked, feeling his heartbeat, which was definitely faster than usual. The fabric of his shirt bunched between your fingertips. 

Gojo continued to hold your gaze; his grip on your hand was gentle but firm. 

"Can you... just sit with me for a moment? I need your company right now," he said, slightly hoarse. “I don’t wanna leave here again without saying what I really feel…” 

“Oh, okay.” You blinked, eyebrows creased as you joined him on the hospital bed. 

Your professionalism vanished as you noticed the glassy forlornness in his beautiful blue eyes. Sitting next to him, you leaned into his embrace. 

After a moment of silence, you asked, “Did something happen?” Your finger traced the outside of his palm to try to soothe him further. God… his hands were so soft despite how large and powerful they were.

Gojo let out a deep breath as he felt you lean against him, the weight of your body against his. It was perfect. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the comfort your presence provided. He opened his eyes again at your question and looked down at your joined hands. Friends didn’t touch each other like this, right? 

"It's...complicated," he said, his voice quiet after a moment. "I just... need a distraction from my thoughts right now. Your company is enough."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips at your comfort, one that sent a jolt of electricity through him. You had always been enough, and he had always loved you. Now, it was just impossible to ignore.

“Talking about it can be the best cure and distraction,” you whispered, faintly smiling back at him. “You know you can tell me anything, Satoru, I will never think of you differently.”

Those simple words from your lips were like a balm to his wounded soul. Gojo felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and affection filling his chest.

"You're too kind," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with emotion. "But this...this could change everything between us."

He raised his free hand and gently brushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.

You sighed blissfully in response. Just the faintest touch from him flustered you. It was so tender, and you wanted more. You always savored any physical moment you had with him. God, you were so infatuated with him, and he didn't even know it.

Gojo's eyes followed the path his finger traced across your cheek, and he couldn't help but notice your reaction. He felt a pang in his chest as he saw the way your body responded to his touch, practically melting against him. Was there a chance you felt the same?

"You're blushing," he whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice. He let his hand linger on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles almost absentmindedly.

"How can I not when you touch me like this?" you responded breathlessly, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

Gojo's heart skipped a beat at your words, your sudden drunken response sending a shiver down his spine. He hadn't meant to affect you so much, but the sight of you so needy was an incredible feeling.

"I can't help it," he murmured, his thumb starting to trace the line of your jaw. "Your reactions are just too cute."

You felt like your heart was about to burst. He always looked so handsome, and you felt like an infatuated schoolgirl whenever he was around, whenever you two were alone. How immature of you; you were supposed to be working. But it was the best part of your day when you were tending to Gojo, which was far more often than you preferred. It also made you feel guilty. You didn't want him to get hurt, it was the last thing you ever wanted. You knew it wasn't normal for him to be touching you like this, for you to reciprocate in the same manner, as these actions crossed the boundary of just friends and coworkers. But maybe you were both more comfortable with this label, even if it pulled at your heartstrings. If Gojo had wanted you, he would have made that clear years ago, right?

Gojo was keenly aware of how you blushed and stuttered in his presence, filling him with a sense of satisfaction that he couldn't quite identify with. The power he had over you was intoxicating. But still, there was a part of him that wanted more, that wanted to cross the line you had set for yourselves.

As you sat there next to him, close enough for your thighs to touch, he found himself fighting the urge to reach out and pull you closer, to bury his face in your hair and breathe in your scent.

His compliment caused you to giggle slightly and glance away. But you didn't retreat from his embrace and only squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Will you tell me what's wrong?" you pressed again. "Why do you want me to distract you?"

Gojo's heart ached. He almost felt sick at how badly he wanted you to be his. But your insistence made it difficult to keep secrets, and refusing any of your requests felt impossible.

Still debating whether confessing was right, he hesitated momentarily before answering. "It's just... life," he finally said, his voice soft and low. "The weight of being the strongest. The pressure. The kids always looking up to me...It can be overwhelming sometimes."

"I'm sure it can be," you said, biting your lip slightly. "You often come here when you want a distraction." You glanced at the gauze and disinfection you had intended to use on his superficial wounds. "You pretend you're more hurt than you are physically. But you just want to vent to me, right?"

It was obvious, after all. Gojo could heal himself if he wanted to. You knew that, and so did everyone.

Gojo's shoulders sagged as he recognized the truth in your words. It was childish of him, possibly even cowardly. The pain he felt from battle was nothing compared to the ache in his heart whenever he was away from you.

He let out a sigh and nodded, his eyes meeting yours again. “You know me too well,” he said quietly. “But yes. I guess I just needed to talk to you. You make everything feel easier.”

"You should ask me to hang out with you more often," you chuckled. "I know we're both busy, but I can make time for you, Satoru. There's no need to pretend."

Gojo felt a pang of guilt at your words. You were right, he should have just asked you to hang out with him more often instead of resorting to these tactics.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice soft. "I shouldn't have used my injuries as an excuse. I just...like having you around."

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb rubbing your knuckles. "Can I ask you something?"

Frowning slightly, you wondered if he had misinterpreted your words by the expression on his face. You didn't want him to feel guilty at all, if anything, you found his visits endearing. He refused to see any doctor but you, which instilled pride in your work. It had become a joke between your coworkers and you, all betting on whether Gojo had a crush on you.

"You can ask me anything." You set your free hand on his knee. You wanted to touch more of him so badly, not under the guise of treating his minor scratches and bruises.

His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but relish the feeling of your touch. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for so long.

"Why... why are you always there for me? Why do you treat my wounds no matter how small? I mean... you have others to look at... but you always come to me." He looked at you, his heart thudding in his chest as he waited for your answer.

"I guess you caught me, too." You blushed, feeling bashful and somewhat embarrassed that he noticed your antics. "Maybe I want to spend whatever time I can with a busy man like yourself."

Gojo's heart fluttered as you admitted to caring for him just as much as he cared for you. He had hoped it was the case, but hearing you confirm it felt like a weight had lifted off his chest.

He chuckled softly, using both hands to hold your face, so incitingly that you didn't even think to pull away. "You know you don't have to use my injuries as an excuse to see me, right? I always want to spend time with you, no matter how busy I am."

His reply was enough for you. You understood what he meant in his repetition of your own words. It was in how he touched you, how his eyes sparkled with relief. Nervously, your eyes flickered down to his lips. He was so close, and what you craved was only one movement away. But no, you wouldn’t kiss him first. You needed to have more restraint than this. 

“Is this your way of saying you like me more than a friend?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Your question was answered in the way his breath caught in his throat, in the way his gaze trailed down to your lips and back up to your eyes. He was mesmerized by you, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

"Yes," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do. I yearn to be near you more often than I dare to admit, I tried to resist but I can't anymore."

Gojo's heart thundered in his chest as your eyes widened in response.

“I feel the same," you said, your admission causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"You... you do?" he murmured, tilting his face a little closer to yours. He wanted to be closer to you, to feel your skin against his; holding your hand wasn’t enough. 

Your eyes flickered to Gojo’s lips again, your stare begging and pleading. The need for something more was evident. “I do.”

Suddenly, he felt emboldened by your words, his own feelings mirrored in your body language.

Gojo's breath hitched as he noticed the palpable desire in your gaze. It was physically impossible to resist any longer.

Leaning in, he closed the distance between you, his lips hovering millimeters from yours. "Say it again," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“Fuck Satoru,” you practically whined, your eyes closing, lulled by his gentle touch and the inches that teased between you. “I love you, okay?"

Gojo felt a shudder run down his spine at the sound of his name on your lips, the desperation in your voice sending a wave of heat through him. You loved him.

With a low groan, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. His hand on your cheek gently tilted your head, allowing him to claim your lips hungrily.

Moaning into the kiss, you inhaled deeply, satisfied to finally taste him, to finally give in to your desires. One of your hands reached out and gripped his bicep, drawing him closer against your own body.

Gojo deepened the kiss further, a thrill shooting through him as he felt the heat of your body even through his clothes, and it fueled his need for more.

His tongue traced your bottom lip, demanding entry to your mouth, as his other hand trailed up your hip, grasping with need. A low moan escaped him as he tasted you, feeling you submit to his tune, his body responding to your touch like a taut bowstring.

You were on the verge of shuddering, desire pooling in that oh-so-dangerous spot, the part of you that might lose all sense of control and decency. Your feelings for Gojo were intense and had been for some time. You still couldn't believe this was happening. Anything he wanted from you was his to take. Anything to make him feel better. 

One of your hands rested against his neck while the other ran through his white locks, refusing to let him go, wanting him to touch you further. Nobody else was in the office, it was just the two of you. You were so starved of affection from the one you desired the most, that you would take any moment you could get.

Gojo seemed to realize at the same time, and he couldn’t control himself as he picked you up and brought you over to rest against your desk. With one hand, he swiped the belongings off and onto the floor, gently guiding you until you were on your back, legs wrapping tightly around his waist. 

Hungrily, he kissed you again; his own body was on fire as you giggled at his erratic, desperate movements as if he couldn't get enough. It was as if he wanted to worship every part of you now that you’d given him permission.  

"Y/N," he whispered against your mouth, his voice rough with need. "I want you. More than anything. I love you too."

"T-take me..." you whimpered, staring deep into his eyes as your lab coat fell loosely around your shoulders. To see him so desperate for you, the yearning of his tone and the affection in his glacier-blue eyes was all it took for your own restraint to fade away.

An almost primal hum of approval vibrated in his throat. "Right here?" he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "On the desk?" His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, his body pressing yours against the cold wood of the desk.

Nodding furiously at how hot this would be, you nodded to the door. "I don't want to wait any longer," you whispered seductively, reaching out to brush your delicate hands against the growing tent in Gojo's pants. "And I don't think you want to either."

Gojo let out a shaky breath at your coyness. His control was fraying quickly, and he knew this was a battle he was going to lose.

Nodding, he reached for the light switch, plunging the office into semi-darkness. He then moved to the door, locking it with a decisive click. When he turned back to you, his eyes were dark with desire.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmured, stalking back towards you. 

You spread your legs back apart, hooking them around his waist once he reached your awaiting embrace. Grasping his face, you pulled him back on top of you. "You made me wait too long for this," you teased, though still strained with a yearning he only noticed through subtle hints throughout the months, almost a year, that you’d known each other. It had been in your eyes, through quick glances, but never in your words.

Just the sound of your voice and the longing within it made him shudder. 

He pressed his bulge against your core, his hands sliding up under your shirt. "I wanted you this whole time," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you." His lips moved to the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point.

Sighing blissfully, your hands found their way back into his hair, holding him against you as if he would escape, as if this was only a dream. 

"What took you so long?" you mumbled, slightly dazed, then gasped as Gojo's fingers hooked the band of your bra. You shrugged off your lab coat, following his lead as he lifted your undershirt and bra over your head and tossing it behind him quickly before his hands reached for your breasts. The cold air swirled around your nipples and you bit down on your lip. It was shocking to finally be naked in front of the man you’d craved since the moment you met. "S-Should have made me yours a long time ago," you whispered, gazing up at him with a sudden shyness.

“Maybe I was too stupid and scared to realize before,” he practically groaned, immediately latching his mouth onto the swell of your breast, his other hand pawing gently at the other. With your nipple still pressed against his pretty pink lips, Gojo’s eyes gazed into your own. “How can I make it up to you?”

Your chuckle morphed into a moan as his tongue swirled around your chest, a devilish smirk upon his face, your reactions stimulating him further. 

“T-this is working….” you gasped, one hand steadying yourself against the desk while the other reached for his pants, beginning to tug them down. 

“I think you should be my girlfriend,” Gojo said somewhat nonchalantly as he broke away, curling his hands around your pants and shimming them down your legs. “That would make everything better-” he bent down between your spread legs and pressed his lips against your covered cunt, inhaling deeply. 

“Don’t you think?” he asked with glossy eyes and a heavy, lustful stare. “Not sure if I wanna share you.” 

“You can ask a bit more nicely…” you teased bashfully as he pulled your panties to the side. 

“Please, Y/N…. please please be my girlfriend, I promise it's worth it. I’ll give you the world, I’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever have before.” 

Though it was dim, you could see the smile on his face and sincerity in his eyes. It felt right, as it always had. 

“You promise?” Your whisper was desperate, not just for his body but also his heart. You didn’t just want him to give you the world; you wanted to share yours with him. 

His thumb ran over your protruding, bottom lip. “I promise, Y/N. I’m so in love with you, please let me show you.” 

“I love you too, Satoru.” 

And that’s when his tongue finally lapped against your slit, a groan of satisfaction vibrating against your core. How desperate he was, how sloppy, but it worked. It worked too well, and you were already coming undone from how gentle he was with your clit, the smooth circles edging you closer and closer, opening you up and preparing you for the utmost pleasure. How sexy you were, splayed across your own desk for him, just like the way you were in his dreams, when he would spend all night longing for your calming presence, fantasizing until he worked himself into an orgasm. 

You moaned and whimpered for him, because of him, and he felt his cock about to burst just from the sight of you, from tasting you.

And after your first orgasm, Gojo leaned forward and captured your lips with his, stifling your moans so only he could hear. His name upon your lips, begging for more, begging for all of him. 

Heavenly, you were, and it was all for him—something Gojo would have never predicted. Yes, he was skilled, and yes, he was the strongest, but you were the only person to ever make him feel alive. When he said he loved you, he meant it. 

And you allowed him to finally nestle his thick cock where it was desperate to go. 

“Satoru! Ahhh….” You threw your head back at the sensation, back arching within the same movement, unprepared for how thick and commanding he would be. You closed your eyes for a moment, only feeling, only touching, only relishing in him. Your mind was filled with his rapture, his passion, his love.

“S-so big,” you whimpered, gripping the edge of the desk in bewilderment, eyes squeezing shut from the intense pressure that filled and stretched you completely. "Fuck!" Was all you managed to sound between erratic moans, only wanting to feel him, latching onto his biceps for support, bodies pressing against the other in sync from the moment of consummation. Gojo sank into you until it was painful, until you were full of his twitching cock.

You were dripping, making it easy for him to thrust as slowly as he could, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for your command to take it even further.

“M-more…” you begged, not needing to repeat your demand before Gojo ravished you. Exhilarated by your moans, he gradually began to thrust harder, obsessed with how your body trembled, pleading for more, praying for all of him.

"Fuck Y/N, you're taking me so well." Gojo complimented in a strained voice. He was vocal, and you loved it, yet you couldn't find the time to reply between your cries of ecstasy, becoming increasingly crazed. You could almost sob at how vivifying it felt.

All this time, he wanted to be this close to you, and now that he was, he needed to immerse himself in your cries and whimpers, smell you, taste you, and be enveloped by you.

"Is this what you wanted from me this whole time?" he teased, and his voice was so electrifying that even though he was still thrusting while trapping you down, your back began to arch against the desk, flush against him.

Shivers jolted through your entire body as you nodded furiously. "Yes, Satoru, so bad-ah!"

The pounding came next, so deep inside you, feeling every inch of your walls, feeling every inch of your body. Gojo moaned loudly, caging you between his arms, angled perfectly and deeply. You couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes as he thrust into you over and over again. It was so passionate, and you were a mess. Your moans mixed in with his, and it was all-consuming, it was life-changing, it was love.

It was what you imagined and so much more.

"Feels so good!" you whimpered, feeling your abdomen flood with pressure again, tightening, burning.

Gojo felt you clench around him, your body shaking. Only a few minutes had passed, and he wanted to last longer, but he couldn’t. You were too pretty, you felt too good. “Fuck baby-” he moaned. “Gonna cum-” 

He pounded into you a few more times until you cried out, gushing around him so sweetly that it was hard to pull out, he didn't want to, but he did. 

With your chest rising and falling sharply, your legs shaking and twitching, Gojo released himself with a loud, strained moan. 

"Fuck! Fuck, I love you…” he exasperated, covering your abdomen with his seed.  It was euphoric, the best he’d ever had. He leaned forward over you, grasping onto the edge of your desk, his strength and the power of his orgasm caused him to snap the molding off, completely denting and splintering the corner of your desk.

“Satoru!” you gasped, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

“Shit….” He grit his teeth in embarrassment, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck before bending down and searching for the box of tissues he saw earlier. “I’ll buy you a new one I swear-” 

And then, you started laughing. “It was that good huh?” 

“The best,” he confirmed, cleaning you up the best he could so you could slide your clothes back on. His legs were still trembling, though, and shit, he needed more.

“I love you too.” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Good enough to make you come back home with me?” 

“I would say perfect,” you smirked as he looped his arm around your waist. "Now I just wonder how much money Shoko is going to make on Monday..."

"What ever do you mean?" he asked with a goofy, lopsided grin, as if he wasn't close friends with her and unaware of the situation.

"She bet that we would get together..."

"Aww," he chuckled, looping your purse over his shoulder. "I'll double it since she believed in me," he said before whisking you away to his apartment, where the two of you immediately started round two.

[dilfl0v3rss]

choso x reader who skipped school (college) and hung out with her friends and was lying saying she was going to school everyday until her grades came in the mail and she got dealt with

YESSSSS BAEEEEE

you knew your boyfriend didn’t play that lazy shit. you were to be up every morning, dressed, ready and on time for your classes. it was a tight schedule and you felt like you were having no time to relax, so you just stopped. now of course choso wasn’t just going to let you stop going to class so you continued to make it seem like you were going just to keep him off your back. you’d wake up, get dressed at the same time you used too, and be out that door by 10:30 just like usual. the only difference is instead of you making your way to campus you would make your way to the mall or starbucks, or a fancy restaurant with your friends.

you didn’t mean for it to drag out for so long, but you were just so tired and drained when it came to all the lectures and papers so each time you thought about it the farther away you turned from it.

“gimme a kiss fore you go baby” choso mumbled, his chest bare to you as he sat up on the bed. his job blessed him with a day off today and as much as you wanted to just stay with him, you knew it’ll blow your cover. “f’course papa” your lips caressed each others briefly before you were walking out the door. you quickly skipped towards your car, giggling as you pulled out your phone to see where you and your girls were hanging out today. choso was going to go back to bed, but decided to stay awake and do some work around the house since he hasn’t been home like this in awhile.

a couple hours have went by and he noticed that you haven’t called him between classes like you usually did when he was off during the week. a flush of embarrassment running through him as he thought of his clinginess. “miss my girl” he mumbled as he pulled out his phone to send you a quick text. halfway through his message he heard the doorbell ring, his head instantly turning towards the front door as he rose from the couch in the living room. choso quietly looked through the front blinds, waiting for the mailman to be completely gone so he can come out and get the mail without having to throw on a t shirt.

as he sat back down on the couch, papers in hand, he read through each piece of mail he got. “bank, insurance, insurance again, victoria’s secret…..academic office? wha-” choso cut himself off as he slowly opened up the envelope, the sight of your grades along with the notice about your attendance made him almost rip the paper in half. you haven’t been to your classes in two weeks and your grades were a damn mess. “the hell?” he mumbled, thoughts of you leaving everyday clouding his mind as choso tried to think of what the fuck you possibly could’ve been doing these past two weeks.

he knew you weren’t cheating on him, the thought not even crossing his mind as he clicked on your location. he tried to refrain from doing this, not wanting to seem like a control freak, but since you wanted to act up he was going to have to be a little stern with you. as he looked at where you were choso could help but chuckle. “the damn mall, f’course” he mumbled as he looked at your little bubble moving towards what looked like the parking lot. he knew you weren’t going to come home right now because he was home, but since it just so happened to be the time you’d take to have lunch between classes he decided to give you a call.

as you looked at the picture of your boyfriend on your phone, a small smile graced your features. you had no idea what he knew. “hi babyyyy” you yelled, making choso smile on the other line. “hi mama, miss you” you giggled, throwing your bags in the car before sitting in your seat. “maybe i could come see you. just got outta class” you lied through your teeth. choso’s anger only grew as he listened to you lie to him like it was nothing, his jaw tightening as he kept a straight face while he talked. “i’d like that, been thinkin bout you all day” his deep voice made you smile, a tingle running up your spine as you quickly started your car. you told choso you’ll be home soon before the two of you hung up and you started your journey.

as you were on the way choso made sure to put all the mail away, only leaving the slip he got from your school in his hand as he waited for you on the couch. you rushed to the house, happy as you made every light and there was zero traffic since you didn’t even have to take the highway like you did when coming home from class, the mall was literally right there. as you walked towards the front door, you didn’t even have to knock since choso opened it for you. “hi papa!” you squealed before giving him a bunch off kisses on his cheeks. he wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a tight hug. he inhaled your scent already knowing you were spraying yourself with different perfumes in the mall because of the mix of aromas coming from your shirt. “got here quick baby, usually would still be on the road right now”

your heart dropped at his words, a quick lie flying from your lips to get him off your tracks. “i just missed you so much i might’ve drove a little fast, don’t be mad at me” you looked up at him, chin on his hard chest as you gave him a pout. choso smiled down at you, his anger already shooting through his arms as he began to squeeze you a little tighter. “never” he said before letting you go. he watched you prance over to your room, not a care in the world running through your mind as you lied to your boyfriend for the second time today. “how was class? learn anything new” he mumbled, his body leaning in the doorway as he watched you plop yourself onto the bed. “boring as always learning the same old thing” you were on a role with these lies today.

choso finally couldn’t take it anymore, slowly walking up to you before leaning both of his hands next to your thighs. just from the look he gave you, you knew you were in trouble. “so when are you gonna stop lying?” his deep voice sent chills down your spine as you looked into his tired eyes. you were too scared to lie, opting for some waterworks instead which made him scoff. “i-it was getting t-to hardddd. i couldn’t keep uppp” you whined, earning yourself a quick hand around your throat as choso stood up to his full height. he slowly dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the paper, showing you your horrendous grades as well as the attendance notice at the bottom. “so instead of asking me for help, you skip class for two weeks?” you looked up at his angry face with watery eyes, your throat already getting dry as you tried not to cry anymore.

you knew you were wrong and choso knew you were actually never planning to stop, so he was happy he caught you when he did. “turn the fuck over” he grumbled, his hand lightly pushing you back by your neck as he released you from his hold. you whined, slowly turning over in the bed and raising your ass high in the air the way he liked. choso ignored the praise he’d usually give you, getting straight to the point as he began to rub the flesh of your asscheeks through your tights. “you lied t’me three times. lied about being in class, about driving home from class, and about how this imaginary class was boring” you listened intently to what he was saying, taking notice of the way he was slowly pulling at the top of your tights.

“i’m feeling nice today so i’m not gonna count the amount of times you’ve been lying t’me for the last two weeks, but you still getting a punishment for it eventually, understand?” you internally whined, your face going into a frown as you looked straight ahead. “y-yes” choso gave you a quiet “good” before gripping the back of your tights with both hands and ripping the fabric down the middle. you gasped at his strength, letting a whine slip as you realized he just ripped up for favorite pair. his big hand landed a hard smack on your ass, making your body jolt forwards before he used his other hand to quickly grab your waist. “ima spank you three times ‘kay?”

you nodded your head while giving him a quiet “okay” before choso continued on. “that first one was for your whining so it doesn’t count. you don’t get to be upset when you get caught being bad y’hear me?” you slowly nod your head, your cheek squished in the sheets as you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the consequences of your actions. choso kept his eyes on your ass, knowing the sight of your teary face would weaken him. he slowly raised his hand, letting each day you woke up and lied to him play through his mind before landing a rough slap on your ass.

you immediately moaned from the contact, your pussy soaking your panties as you tried your best to hold still for him. “what was that for mama?” he asked, his rough palm rubbing around the area as he awaited your response. you had to take a deep breath before you spoke. “f-for lying about being in c-class” a smirk adorned his features at your obedience. choso didn’t expect you to be able to speak, but the need for forgiveness always seemed to get you to do unspeakable things. “good girl” he mumbled, his deep voice sending more wetness through your underwear as you felt his hand leave your ass again.

the second slap was a bit harder, making your entire body jerk forward as you quickly tucked your lip behind your teeth to keep you from screaming. “unt uhh baby i gotta hear you. how you gon talk t’me while biting your lip like that huh?” you slowly complied, freeing the glossy skin from the confines of your mouth as you felt his hand begin to rub up and down your back. choso slowly released himself from his sweatpants, rubbing his thick dick along the fabric of your wet panties as he spoke. “tell me what that one was for baby” he groaned, the feeling of your arousal sending shivers down his spine. “was f’lying ab….about driving home f-from class….please daddy m’so sorryyy” your moans were music to his ears. choso slowly moved your panties to the side, a low “mhmm” leaving his throat at he looked at your glistening folds connecting to your panties with strings of your arousal. “what’s this last one for mama?”

you opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by the feeling of his rough palm colliding with your ass. the sound so loud it bounced of the walls as he sunk his dick deep inside your entrance. a loud moan escaping your mouth as you felt inch by thick inch of him being sheathed inside of you. “ooohhh fuckk i can’t” a rough slap was brought to your ass again at your words. anger ran through choso’s veins as he listened to you lie to him again. “stop it baby, yes you can” he started at a slow pace, letting you feel each and every part of him as he kept a tight grip on your hips. his dick dragging in and out of you, touching everywhere all at once as he let you moan and whine into the air. “why you makin me do this t’you, huh? why couldn’t you just ask me for help?” his deep voice caressed your ears as you felt his pace begin to quicken. you wanted your words to come out, but the faster he fucked you the harder it got for you to think. coherent words being replaced with mumbles and whines. choso chuckled at the state of you, his dick twitching he put his hands flat on your back to deepen your arch.

“papa pleaseeee” you whined, your walls tightened around him as you felt his dick begin to push into your stomach. you went to reach for his abs, lightly trying push some of his inches out, but you were met with a big hand around your wrist. whines flew from your lips, your tears continuously soaking the sheets as you tried to plead with the man behind you. “p-please i can’t ch….cho-” “s’not my name mama. if you finish that sentence ima make you go to your next class after this. with my cum leaking down your thighs” he roughly threw your hand back in front of you, continuing his brutal thrusts as he watched your pussy take each and every inch of him. “why couldn’t you jus ask for help? you know i’d never tell you no to somethin like that”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mind all over the place as you confessed the reason for your actions to your boyfriend. “d-didn’t wanna bother you. y’work too much….work too hard and never rest….just wanted you t’rest papa” choso’s eyes softened at your words, his thrusts slowing at he pulled you up to him by your neck. his broad chest pressed against your back as he spoke deeply in your ear. “that’s not the way t’look out f’me mama. cause now i gotta do even more work to catch you back up” a low cry left your lips as you realized how right he was. cries if “m’sorry” and “please don’t be mad at me” flew from your lips like a prayer as you felt choso regain his quick and deep pace.

“s’okay tho baby, papa’s gonna be off work for a couple weeks since the building is under construction. ima get you right on track” at that you felt his thick fingers rub quickly on your clit. his thrusts deepening as he continuously hit your g spot. your body melted into his arms as you felt your release begin to approach you. “d-da m’gonna cum…can i?” everything in choso’s brain was screaming at him to tell you no, but the sorry, far away look in your big, brown, glossy eyes weakened him to the point where he felt his release approaching him as well. a low groan escaped from his lips as he quickly nodded his head. “yea mama give it t’me. don’t worry about a thing jus let papa handle it okay?”

without a reply the both of you chased after your orgasms. your hips moving back onto choso’s dick, clenching around him tightly as he continued to rub quick circles around your clit. “c-cum in me p-please” you whimpered, tears running down your face as you and choso connected your lips together. he sloppily kissed you, moaning a “mhmmm” as he let both of your salivas mix together. before long neither of you could focus on the kiss as your releases crashed through you. your lips parting into each other as you felt your juices squirt all over the bed as well as choso’s cum shooting deep into you. “fuckk baby” he moaned, his head falling back as he clenched his eyes shut. “m’sorry pa” you breathed, your hand slowly moving back to caress the back of his sweaty neck.

“i know mama, jus don’t do it again”

bonus!!

you practically sprinted into the house, your slides flying off your feet as you went straight to your room to your boyfriend. choso was just getting out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around his wet, muscular body as he used another towel to dry his hair. “baby baby baby baby babyyyyy” a smirk grew on his face at your excitement, his tongue swiping over his pink lips as he gave you a deep “hmm” you skipped towards him, your hands behind your back as you looked up at your beautiful boyfriend.

“lemme see mama” he said, a chuckle erupting from his chest as he watched how quickly you pulled your phone from behind your back. choso inspected your screen, scrolling through the different grades you’ve been getting in each of your classes. “an A in anatomy, A in psych, A in sociology, ooouuu a C in stats? wassup wit that i thought we was doing well?” choso gave you a confused look, waiting for you to let him know what was going on. you sighed, eyes reverting to the ground. choso opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sight of your latest exam from your stats class. the big 95% being exposed to him in red ink.

a smile grew on your face as you spoke. “he said he was a little behind on grades so once this is in i should have a B!” a smile spread to choso’s face now, his big hands grabbing at your waist before giving you a light kiss on the lips. “m’proud of you, good job” a hint of mischief twinkled in your eyes as you gave your boyfriend and expecting look. “sooooo….can we?” a chuckle flew from his chest as he gave you a sexy smirk, his pearly white teeth peaking from his lips as he looked you up and down. “on your back mama, spread your legs real wide f’me” his deep voice rang in your ears, making you move almost instantly towards the bed.

you quickly removed your pants and panties before laying on your back in just your pretty pink crop top. choso made his way to his dresser, pulling out the black vibrator he promised to use on you if you got all your grades up. he slowly walked towards you on the edge of the bed, his towel wrapped securely around his waist as he leaned his body over yours, his hands right next to both sides of your head as he leaned down to plant wet kisses on your neck. “been working hard, huh mama? been doin all your work like daddy said?”

you quickly nod your head yes, your eyes already rolling just from the sound of his deep voice. “yes sir” choso slowly kissed down your body, moving to his knees until he was face to face with your glistening pussy. “what’s this for baby?” he asked, the sound of the vibrator powering on making your walls clench in anticipation. “f-for being a good girl” choso lowered his mouth to your clit, letting his wide tongue run up and down your folds before moving two of his fingers towards your entrance. he lowered the vibrator down until it was only mere centimeters away from your clit.

“that’s right ma. s’for being a good girl”

[armpirate]

Better than fiction | Choi San

Bf experience

pairing: Idol!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), protected sex, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, dom!San x sub!reader. (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content).

Summary: You never thought what your boyfriend's reaction to you writing fanfic would be like, but you certainly didn't expect him to end up so jealous of himself to end up making your fantases come true

Aprox. time of reading: 19 minutes

MASTERLIST

Your blood stopped running for a few seconds. You could feel the way some parts of your body went numb, only keeping your attention on the live San started not that long ago, and that you decided to hear because his voice just had that calming effect on you. It didn't matter if it was through video call, audio messages, or those lives. You could hear him talking for hours and feel at ease all the time it lasted.

Except that day.

The way he made an understanding sound, followed by a scoff, that reached the deepest side of your brain, had you almost sitting at the edge of your bed, holding your phone with your two hands. The clicking sounds of his keyboard were the only thing that could be heard, while the chat went crazy, trying to distract him from his own curiosity.

There was a thick silence that made you aware of how hard you gulped, moving over the bed, feeling uncomfortable whatever the position it was.

"I see you, guys, are having fun" he teased with a honeyed voice.

That mocking tone, and the chuckle he let out after had you silently screaming, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand.

Even if he didn't know you were part of that small group of people that loved living in delululand, although you were already in your personal fanfic every day with him, you felt exposed, more like you'd never been before. It felt like you were caught doing something wrong, even if San wasn't speaking to you directly.

You didn't know how long you stayed in your bed, laying on your back as you stared at the ceiling. Only thing you were hoping for was that San didn't bring it up the next time you saw each other.

Basically because you were bad at lying, but San was also great at noticing when you lied to him.

You raised your phone to your face after feeling it buzz, biting your lip when you were aware of his name popping up at the top of your screen.

Sannie: Babe, did you watch the live? You didn't comment today...

You could imagine him pouting, with his lips pursed while he gave a lost kitten look to his screen. And he probably would've used his thinner voice if he had said that out loud directly to you.

Usually, you'd always leave a few comments. At first it started because you just liked teasing him, and seeing him getting nervous when your username showed up in the middle of the livestream. But it ended up being something he got used to, to the point of wondering if something happened to you if you didn't do it.

You: I did! But I was busy with work, so I just heard it while doing other things.

Sannie: Oh. Do you want me to go see you tomorrow better, then?

You: Nope, come here! You owe me a lot of cuddles

Sannie: I've only been away for a week...

You: Even a day is too much. Come here when you're done, pleaseeee.

San smiled when he looked at his screen, imagining your squared smile as you tried to convince him to go to your place for cuddles. Not like he needed much to be convinced, just the idea was convincing enough, but it was always cute to see him react like that -mainly because it was something you barely did.

"We're gonna order some food. Do you want anything?" Seonghwa's head peeked through his door.

San shook his head, not even trying to hide his playful smile as he got up from his chair "I'm going to Y/n's, so don't wait for me".

"Who's ever waited for you, any way?" Mingi teased, showing up in the corridor.

"I do" Seonghwa replied, looking back with an obvious expression.

Mingi rolled his eyes "He never leaves the house unless it's to see Y/n. And we know he never sleeps in when he goes to see her".

"Send a text when you get there" Seonghwa asked him, ignoring the boy behind him.

"And tell Y/n we said hi. You're gatekeeping her" Mingi complained, continuing his way to his room.

San simply smiled at that, pleased with the way all the members grew closer to you the longer your relationship went on. It always worried him that his friends and his significant other wouldn't get on well, but with you it was an automatic click.

Could be it was that you had that type of personality that molded into everyone else's easily, finding a bit of your humor and comfort in each one of the members. And while it sometimes made San jealous, deep inside he genuinely appreciated it.

You smiled widely when, after fifteen minutes, San knocked on your door with his arms opening big as soon as you stood in front of him. His arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you to his body and lifting you a few centimeters in the air before he was moving you back inside, kicking the door with his foot to close it.

"Did you shower?" after digging your nose in his neck, you could recognize the floral scent of his gel, which you loved.

Whenever that smell got into your system, your first reaction was to snuggle to him and hide your face on his chest. It really seemed like he got ready for those cuddles that night.

Not leaving you on the floor, but making you stand on your tiptoes over his feet -only covered with his white socks-, he started walking through the short corridor. "Yup, we had a schedule today. And I didn't want to go around all sweated" he tilted his head. "By the way, the boys say hi".

"It's been a while since I last saw them" you sighed. "Are you gatekeeping them from me?".

San rolled his eyes at that question, confirming that, in fact, you did spend too much time with them all during that year and a half.

"No, I'm gatekeeping you from them" he replied, stealing a peck from you. "Now seriously, we could plan something for the next time you're free" he suggested, stopping in the middle of your living room.

"Sure" you nodded, tapping his biceps so he'd finally let you stand on the floor again. "I'll prepare some snacks, why don't you look for something to watch".

His hands carefully put you back on the floor, while his lips were together as he saw your body disappearing behind the white door to your kitchen. He groaned, slowly taking a seat on the couch, resting his head over the backrest for a few seconds.

When he looked to his left, he could see that small surprise you prepared for him two weeks back, unable to control his thoughts as he remembered the weekend you spent together, barely moving from that corner before he left for the festival.

It was the physical reminiscence of how lucky he was to have you.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, having him lifting his head to look at it for a quick second before he went back to the relaxed position.

Until it finally hit him. He forgot his back in the dorm, which meant Seonghwa would be ranting at him for not announcing he arrived well, and for being careless enough to leave the house without the cell.

"Love, can I send a message through your phone? I left mine at the dorm".

"Sure" you mentioned, still places all the gummies and the cookies on a plate. "No, wait-" it was the only thing you were able to say when realization hit you.

Although you ran as fast as you could, it was already too late. Peeking over San's shoulder, you could see that he wasn't in your chats, but scrolling down a really different page. His first idea was to send the text and move on, but the notification at the top caught his attention.

You never hid your fan side. He knew you were part of the fandom as soon as you started dating, even before, so it wasn't anything new for him to hear you using Twitter slang sometimes, and knowing about some things long before he did. But that day there was an app he didn't recognize, with an ask from an anonymous person seemingly freaking out after what happened in the livestream that took place some hours back.

Time to close it all now. San will expose us to the rest of the members and, like that one, several other posts.

"Give it to me" but San moved faster, getting up from the couch to move the phone away from you.

"San x Y/n?" he frowned, scrolling down your page through some of the most recent one-shots you had posted.

He looked over some of the details, smirking when he noticed you chose the pictures where he looked best to top the stories that would come under them.

"For your own sake, stop reading" you asked, finally snitching the phone from his hands and hiding it on your back.

"Since when do you write fanfics?".

"You mean about you, or in general?".

"There's been others?" his eyebrows raised, but you could tell by the way he was smiling that he was just mocking you for your reaction. "Why are you so embarrassed? It's probably cute".

"No, it's not" you assured, scoffing after that confirmation.

"What? You paint me like a douchebag or something? Are they sad stories?" his head tilted to the side, with his smirk slowly dropping at that idea.

"No, they're actually fun for the people that read them" you muttered.

"I won't judge you. Honestly, if this is important for you, I want to know what it is".

Ever since you started dating there was nothing that he liked more than learning things about you, and adding them to his life just to make you happy. If you liked a cake with a certain flavor, he'd always manage to have it for any celebration you two made. If you liked one song in particular, he'd learn it and sign it to you, or add it to his playlist so you'd listen to it when you're together. Every small detail counted for him, and whatever it was you were hiding on your back was no different from all those things.

"They aren't sad stories. Cute neither" you nervously stated.

"Horror stories, then?" he frowned.

You shook his head, handing the phone to him "They're... explicit" you summed up.

San looked confused when he took your phone, clicking over one of the short stories. Seeing the warning in red had him gulping thick "dom!San, choking, spitting, rough sex...", eyeing you up quickly before he looked down at your screen again.

It was weird to read about himself in that context, never thinking he'd end up doing it, and even less because it came from you. When he found out earlier that evening that fans were writing that type of content, he wasn't entirely surprised, but it didn't cross his mind the idea of you being part of that niche. However, there he was, supporting his weight on his lower back -which was laying against the backrest of the thick armchair in front of your couch- while he read through one of the stories.

His heart pumped against his chest, a bit harder with every line he read. Every description, every detail, everything was so realistic yet seemed so unreal at the same time. He could almost touch the sexual tension between the two characters, before the San of the fanfic forced the main character into a rough sloppy kiss that almost made his knees tremble.

He could feel your eyes on him. And the only thing he was hoping for is that it wasn't as evident how much he liked what he was reading, while he hawked when his throat went suddenly dry at the roughness that was represented in the fanfic.

"I can delete it all" you assured him. "I will..."

"Do you like this?" he interrupted you, finally lifting his gaze to yours. "Are you into being treated like that?".

"Well, I don't know" you hesitated, confused by his question. "It's just fiction" you shrugged, stepping towards him.

"No, Y/n. Be honest. Do you think our sex boring?".

Fiction sex was blatantly different from your real sex. On fiction sex you were able to dig on those kinks you didn't know you had, but that had your whole body burning just at the thought of doing them with San. While real sex was just you two, loving each other.

"What? No" you stepped towards him, cupping his face with your hands. "They're just dumb stories I write when I'm bored".

"Or when you're horny" he muttered.

"Look, they're just fantasies, that I didn't even try. I like the idea of them, because I think it'd be hot, but that's it"

"Why didn't you tell me you liked that?"

"Because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with it".

Despite his looks, San was the most gentle and careful person you had ever met. He'd stop the whole thing if something that he thought would hurt you or bother you happened, and you appreciated that. You loved the way he looked after you in every single aspect of your relationship. That was why you never mentioned the idea of having him spanking you, and even less choking you through sex. It'd be crossing a limit for him, and just like San took care of you when you had sex, you wanted to take care of him.

"So you do want to try it?" he asked, lifting one of his eyebrows.

After licking your lips, and softly pressing them, you ended up nodding shyly, lowering your gaze to your feet.

Something about that story didn't allow him to think straight. Maybe it was the way he could imagine you squirming and twisting with pleasure, or how loud and desperate your moans would sound -when usually they were little whispers you gifted to his ear. Or could be it was the slightest glimpse of jealousy he felt over the San in the fan fiction, who was able to pleasure his girlfriend better than he did.

He didn't give you time to react, holding your wrist before he dragged you to your bedroom. You had no time to process anything that was happening, before he made you turn on your feet and make your lips collide. San was demanding, moving your lips over yours, not giving you any other choice than trying to keep up with his pace as he held your neck with his two hands, slightly letting his fingertips dent on your skin.

A moan burned your throat when his tongue sneakily moved between your lips, meeting yours for a brief second before he was dominating the way they twirled, having your core begging for him in a matter of seconds.

He left you hanging in the middle of a fast breath, turning you around so your back was stuck to his hard chest. His hands traced the curve of your waist, with your knees trembling at the soft touch as his fingers kept moving up, taking with them the thin fabric of your old t-shirt. Once the piece of clothing was gone, his palms covered your exposed breasts, making your back arch almost perfectly.

There was something so strange at being controlled that way, or feeling like you didn't have to worry about anything because San knew perfectly what to do. And you loved it. You could feel the pool in your panties as time went by slowly, and the way your heart raced in your chest when his fingers pinched your nipples before he went back to pressing your tits with his palms.

"Did you ever touch yourself thinking about this, hmm?" his voice sounded unrecognizable. It was harsh and raspy, making its way to your guts and clicking to one part of your brain that almost made you moan the answer.

San didn't know if he wanted to know. He could understand you touching yourself because he was away, but because he wasn't pleasuring you like he should? He couldn't deal with that.

He didn't let you answer. As he saw the way you gulped and took a deep breath to let him know, his hand flew to your covered pussy, sliding his fingers over it until it was completely covered by his palm.

You desperately seeked for his lips, this time starting the sloppy kiss. Trying to keep your balance while standing on your tiptoes, while your head went in circles was suddenly the most difficult task.

Although you knew San had you.

He grinded against you, letting you feel his growing bulge against your ass while his hand slipped inside your panties. He wasn't able to hold back the moan when your wetness coated his fingers as soon as he slid them through your slit, just being able to think of how good his cock would slip in and out of you with barely any effort.

"Can you feel how hard you made me, babe?" the circles on your clit were barely leaving any room for your brain cells to work properly, although you were still able to pick up some of the things he said. "Time for you to do something about it, right?"

Your hips collided against the headboard with every deep thrust he made, making you feel completely trapped between the wall and his body, thinking that probably your pain senses were too fucked by pleasure to be able to feel hurt at the way it kept bouncing against the hard surface.

San enrolled his fingers on your jaw, moving your head up slightly to give your back the perfect curvature, so your pubic bone would come up against the bottom of his cock and giving his thrusts the perfect angle so his tip would end up rubbing against that spot that had you whimpering and grinding against him in a matter of seconds.

"All this time wanting to try this, and you're barely able to take it" he groaned, with a shaky voice due to the power of each one of his movements.

All the times you thought of being in that situation, San was harsh, he was animalistic, just like he was being in that moment. But you didn't count with the extra threat that were his hips. You should've known better than pushing a dancer, mastered in body rolls and hip thrusts, to his limits. He found the best position for him, having you completely caged so his only worry would be pounding in and out of you, concentrating on the killing move of his hips, letting you feel all of him inside of you, but also making your skin clap every time.

You scratched your thighs, having nothing else to your reach as your head was held up "Please" you moaned. You don't know what you were begging for. Pleasure just felt a little bit too much to contain it for any longer, you just wanted it to blow and have it leaving your system.

"Please what?" San forced your body a bit higher, sinking his teeth on your collarbone. "Use full sentences, babe".

"Please, don't stop" you begged, your voice cracked in need.

He wasn't going to stop. And even less after seeing you like that. There was nothing that could make him prouder than seeing you being a mumbling mess for his cock, sure that he was closer to losing himself completely to his most basic instincts just to have you looking like that for the rest of the night.

The echo of the slap made you squirm rather than the itch that his palm left after it, making your pussy instantly clench around him, with your walls closing tight around him as if you didn't want him to leave you empty ever again.

"You take me so fucking good" he hoarsed, circling your swollen clit with two of his fingers.

With his eyes fixed on you the whole time, he was able to tell the exact moment you were going to cum. He saw that spark in your eyes, momentary and fast, but strong enough for him to see it before your eyes went blank with a long moan, that sounded in sync with the way your legs trembled and your body convulsed on his.

He wanted to drink the last drop of your high, moving your neck so your face would be towards him, taking your lips in his with freedom while you blindly followed his moves, weakly sucking on his lower lip.

At that point you could only feel the way San moved on the mattress, dragging your body along with his until the two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed. Although he tried to let go of that caring side to please you, you could sense it was still there, taking over him for a brief moment as he made you roll on the bed and lie on your back, carefully to not hurt you, and making sure at all times that you were okay.

One of his hands rested on your stomach, caressing the spot between your belly button and your pubes as he waited for you to recover. When you looked up to him, you felt so small... San was big, but that night he felt twice his size. The way he looked at you, brushing his hair back to expose some of the sweat drops that stopped right on his eyebrows, giving you what you had named as his "stage gaze" had your pussy throbbing again.

Your body squirmed when he leaned over, moving his tongue over your clit to steal a whine from you before he sucked on the bundle of nerves.

He swore one day he'd be completely addicted to your taste.

San slipped his full length back again, only warning you with his tip pressing on your entrance before he was stretching you out in that new position. He was completely lost in the way you looked, eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips parted as you weren't able to breath through your nose anymore, and tits bouncing with every thrust he made. Only to go feral when he lowered his eyes a bit more to find his cock covered in your arousal whenever he moved it out, hiding himself in your walls not even a mini second after. Whole shaft was shiny with your juices, with some white thicker cream on the base.

"The mess you made on my cock..." he scoffed, squeezing your flesh. "My girl does love to be treated like a hole meant to be used by me only, hmm?".

At the lack of response from you, other than the way your fists closed on the sheets and some of the whimpers you tried to keep hidden in your mouth by pressing your lips together, San moved his fingers around your throat again. His digits' pressure on your skin tightened with every thrust, giving you one thin line that allowed air to make it to your lungs. His left hand kept you glued to the bed, that squeaked under you a little bit louder as time went by, while his other hand hooked around your knee, keeping it as high and spread as possible.

The eye contact, the grunts, and his cock rubbing deliciously on your walls... All of it was the perfect mix for a ticking bomb in your guts that started a countdown to wipe everything out.

"Are you going to cum again for me?" he teased, recognizing that spark in your eyes again. "Let go, babe. Cum around me".

He combined those words with the twirls the fingers on his right hand were doing on your clit, feeling it throb on his digits before you reached your orgasm with a loud moan, arching your back in a way he thought it would break.

"Come here and make me cum now, love"

You crawled on the mattress to where he was, smirking at him as you took the condom off. He growled over you when your lips wrapped around him, barely giving him any time to get used to the subtle breeze in your room before he was feeling warm again. Your head bombed fast, eager to feel the way his cock twitched against your tongue when you least expected, while your hand matched the movements of your mouth.

San guided the way your head moved, with his fingers grasping on some of the lock of your head to move you a bit faster, while his hips just buckled against your mouth. He just needed one last flick of your tongue on one of his veins, and he was already spilling his seed in your mouth with a deep moan.

You still licked him off for a bit more, cleaning him completely, until there was no trace of everything you had done.

"Spit it here" he hollowed his hand at the height of your lips.

You bit your lower lip, moving your body to be on the same height as he was and confront that confused expression he was giving you.

"I swallowed it" the pride and playfulness in your voice made him smile, and break character almost instantly.

He moved right after you did, placing his hands on your hips while your arms wrapped around his neck.

"Was it better than fiction?" his head tilted as he asked that question.

"It was better than fiction" you admitted, playing with the sweaty locks on his nape. "Did you like it, too?".

San nodded, curving his lips slightly "More than expected, actually".

Before you could smile widely in relief, your boyfriend leaned over to kiss you, gently and caring, moving his lips sweetly over yours to get rid of any drop of his saltiness. "Let's clean ourselves, and let me give you those cuddles you were asking for earlier, alright?".

San helped you move out of bed first, holding your hand carefully so you wouldn't fall, joining in front of you right after. He stopped midway, having you looking at him confused. "Let me tell Seonghwa I arrived well. I forgot to send him the text".

"Go, I'll wait for you in the shower"

As he stepped away from you and turned around, you couldn't help yourself. Your palm smacked against his ass, having him turning at you surprised, giving you an eye smile before he shook his head and made his way to the living room.

It was a good thing he found out about fanfiction after all.

[megalony]

Proud Papa

This is a Tommy Kinard imagine, based on a lovely Anon request. I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @shauna-carsley @dottirose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1

@rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: Tommy can't wait for the day of (Y/n)'s C-section so they can meet their twins. They know exactly what to expect; but there's room for a few surprises.

Enjoy.

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

"So, next week? Are you coming, I can give you a lift if you like."

A grin spread across Tommy's lips as he zipped up his bag and let it lay between his feet. His elbows moved to rest on his thighs and he tilted his head back, squinting up at Eddie against the beaming afternoon sun that was casting rays of gleaming white to shine around the court.

He could feel his smile twitching into a smirk when he thought about how busy he was going to be next week.

"Uh, no, sorry. I can't make it next week." It would be the first time in over two months that Tommy would have to skip the weekly basketball game that had been set up for almost a year now.

He was usually lucky that he didn't work Thursday afternoons, he either had them off or he worked the Thursday night shift and still turned up here for the basketball game beforehand.

But not next week.

"No?"

"You're missing a game?" Buck huffed as he ran his fingers through his sweaty locks, brushing them back while he huffed. He had been to about four of these weekly games so far and he knew Tommy had been to each one. He usually picked Eddie up on the way and brought him down here so they didn't have to take two cars.

"Yep, I'll be missing the next few games, actually. You'll have to make do without me."

"How come?"

The disappointment in Eddie's voice and the confusion on Buck's face was almost endearing. It felt good to have friends that actually wanted to hang out with him and who clearly were going to miss his absence next week. Tommy was a friendly guy and he was easy going, but that didn't mean he made a lot of friends.

He only had a small circle of close-knit friends that he relied on and trusted and who he hung out with regularly. It was refreshing to meet Eddie and Buck and reconnect with Chimney and Hen and feel like he had more people to be around and get to know again.

"My wife's gonna be having the twins next Wednesday." Tommy couldn't quite keep his excitement at bay.

Although his expression was contained, his smile was dampened down so it didn't take over his face. And he took a deep breath to stop from overexciting himself or babbling about everything that would happen next week. He refrained from blurting out every little detail that was planned down to the dot.

And he revelled in the tender smile that lit up Eddie's face, while Buck grinned, but his eyes narrowed somewhat in confusion.

"Ah, you, you mean her due date is next Wednesday?" Scratching the back of his neck, Buck tilted his head to one side and grinned across at his friend. He would have to be psychic to know the exact date when his wife would go into labour.

"No, we're having them on Wednesday. (Y/n)'s having a C-section. As of Monday, I'm off work, and as of next Wednesday, I'll officially be a dad."

Tommy had enjoyed watching everyone become confused when he told them he already knew his children's birthday ahead of time. He loved that he had it circled on the kitchen calendar in red pen that next week would be their birthday. If he wanted, he could add it in his work diary and save it to his phone as a reminder that every year, that would be a special date he would need off work.

They had it all planned out from (Y/n) being five months pregnant that she would be having a C-section. Suffering with extreme morning sickness and then having a minor placental abruption put (Y/n) more at risk, along with having twins. The doctor thought it would be better if they had a C-section so neither of the twins got distressed during labour and so the placenta didn't start moving again and cause any bleeding.

It was more likely that (Y/n) would go into early labour too, since she was having a multiple pregnancy. They would be at thirty-six weeks next week which was a safe mark to have the twins.

"Oh wow, congratulations."

"Do you know what you're having yet?"

"We're having boys."

Tommy wouldn't tell anyone yet that he and (Y/n) already had the names picked out. They would be walking into that hospital next week knowing the exact date they would be having their boys, roughly what time, and with their names already chosen and sewn into matching blankets (Y/n) had made.

It was as scheduled as anything else in their lives and they both preferred it this way. No walking on egg shells, no panicking that Tommy might be at work when (Y/n) went into labour. No worrying that something would go wrong or labour would end up with complications or something would happen to their boys.

It was all pre-planned out and next week, Tommy would be sat with one son in each arm, feeling the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

(Y/n) tilted her head to the right and looked across at Tommy, quirking a brow as she gazed at him curiously. The smile on his lips was one that made his cheeks puff out and the end of his nose scrunched up as he looked down at his phone.

She moved her hands to run them up and down her legs, feeling adrenaline spark through her stomach at the prospect that in less than an hour, she wasn't going to be able to feel the lower part of her body anymore.

"Something funny?" She murmured softly, smiling as Tommy tore his eyes away from his phone and looked across at her before he held the screen out for her to see.

"Just the guys wishing us luck." He swiped across to the next text, watching as (Y/n)'s eyes lit up and she nodded.

It was sweet. Buck had wished them good luck, and cheekily asked for a photo of the twins once the operation was all done and dusted. And Eddie hoped it would go well, and said Chris has asked when he can come down and visit them which was endearing.

Tommy had been a little surprised but nevertheless touched when Hen and Chimney both texted early this morning to say they were happy for him. And said they would come down to see them all soon.

With a smile, Tommy turned his phone on silent and tucked it safely into the bag they had brought down to the hospital with them. He didn't need it going off in the operating room or sitting uncomfortably in his back pocket. He wasn't going to need it.

He pushed up from the chair and ran his hands up and down his jeans, wiping the sweat from his palms before he sat down on the edge of the bed beside (Y/n)'s knee. He reached out and began to trail his hand across (Y/n) knee while she sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Her hands stopped drawing patterns and reached out for Tommy's wrist instead, holding onto him as tightly as she could.

"Are you ready?"

Her lips curved up into a tender smile and her eyes flitted down to her stomach.

It felt strange to know that in over an hour, she was going to look and feel totally different. Her stomach wouldn't be this rounded anymore. It would feel squishy and flatter and she might have better chance of seeing her knees and her feet which she hadn't caught sight of in the last few months.

In an hour, they would have a boy each to cuddle and feed and adore and love.

Everything had been leading up to today, but now it was here, everything felt strange, in a good way. (Y/n) was ready to be able to walk and feel like her back wasn't crippled and feel like she could stand up straight without her stomach trying to touch the floor. She would be able to push a pram rather than stare holes into her stomach and wish to see her babies.

They would be waking up during the night as of now. They would be swamped with baby grows and nappies and cries filling the house. And they were ready for this.

"I think I'm gonna be a stone lighter after this." She spoke wistfully while she moved her hands to cup her stomach. She was definitely going to feel like a whole new person after today.

A chuckle passed through Tommy's lips before he leaned forward, moving his hands to cup hers that were on her stomach. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her bump, smiling against her skin when he felt (Y/n) lean down to kiss the back of his head.

"Well I'm gonna miss this," He murmured into her skin, causing shivers in his wake.

He had loved wrapping himself around (Y/n) and attaching his lips to her stomach and feeling the boys move and wriggle around and react to the sound of his voice. But they both knew having their boys in their arms was going to feel a whole lot different to this, in the best way possible.

A soft knock at the door caught their attention and Tommy sat up straight but kept his hands enveloped around (Y/n)'s.

They both watched as two nurses walk into the room, eager looks of excitement on their faces.

"Are we ready to go to theatre?" It wasn't the best way to word it, but (Y/n) nodded all the same.

The longer they waited up here in this room, the more nervous she was becoming. It was the thought of the epidural she was going to have that made her feel queasy. But she knew once she'd had the injection and everything was set up, she would feel a lot calmer.

And Tommy was going to be there right beside her.

(Y/n) could feel her nerves sparking and igniting when they finally got into the operating room. She had never had an operation before. The worst (Y/n) had done was broken a few bones in her life, but this was different. She was going to be awake for this which was something strange and unusual in itself.

She sat on the side of the bed, keeping her eyes on her knees as her nails punctured into the edge of the operating bed like she was going to extend claws like Wolverine and cut it apart.

But when her eyes lifted, she managed to arch a brow and some of her anxiety died down when she looked over at her husband.

He was wearing scrubs. Somehow, Tommy looked even taller and bulkier in the dusty pale blue scrubs that barely seemed to fit over his arms or his shoulders. But the tender smile dancing across his lips made him look soft and when (Y/n) reached a hand out towards him, he all but melted on the spot.

She felt his lips pressing against her temple as he moved to stand in front of her and interlocked their fingers together.

"Okay, let's get you on this epidural. Do you want to lie down?"

"Can I sit up?" (Y/n) looked over her shoulder at the doctor who they had seen two weeks ago in preparation for today. He smiled kindly and nodded.

She didn't want to lie on her side, something about that made (Y/n) feel a little too uncomfortable. It would make her feel better if she could stay sitting up like this and then when the epidural started to work, she would lie down ready. They knew it would take up to twenty minutes for her body to go fully numb and she didn't want to lie on her side or her back for that long and wait.

"Okay, this is going to feel uncomfortable, but since you can't see any of it, that should be a little easier. This is the anaesthetic first, to numb your back."

Lifting her gaze, (Y/n) locked her eyes on Tommy, but the calm smile on his face made her feel better already. She leaned forward until her forehead was pressing into his chest and her right hand stayed tangled with Tommy's while she reached her left hand out and curled her hand around his torso. She felt his right hand move to cup the back of her neck and he began to hum quietly while his eyes focused over (Y/n)'s shoulder to watch the doctor.

He watched curiously as the doctor slowly pushed a needle near (Y/n)'s spine to numb her back. He felt (Y/n) twitch and push into his chest even more and he was glad she couldn't see this. Tommy had lost count of the times he'd had to hold (Y/n) in a chair or catch her when she fainted while having her bloods taken.

"Epidural going in now (Y/n). This will feel a bit uncomfortable, but not painful."

Tommy smoothed his thumb up and down the back of (Y/n)'s neck while he watched the thin tube thread into her back, between the columns of her spine. It made his breathing quicken, but he had seen much worse while he was on shift with air support.

It was still strange to watch the fluid seep through the thin tube in her back and watch the way (Y/n) twisted and tensed, trying to stay as still as she could so she didn't move anything.

(Y/n) began to sway their entwined hands back and forth, giving herself something to focus on other than the sound of Tommy's gritty, melodic hum that quietly flooded her ears.

This was what she had been worried about. Feeling this uncomfortable and feeling the injections and then having to wait for everything to turn numb. The thought was almost as uneasy as the action itself and after just less than ten minutes, (Y/n) slowly lifted her head to look up at Tommy. She nodded silently and moved their entwined hands down to pat her legs that she couldn't feel anymore.

Well, she could sort of feel them, but it was like a switch had been flipped and they had been momentairely disconnected.

There was a small part of (Y/n) that worried this epidural somehow wouldn't work or suddenly wouldn't be properly effective. She dreamed that when the doctor began cutting through the fat and muscle in her abdomen, she would suddenly feel agonising pain and begin to scream. But feeling how numb and tingly her legs felt, (Y/n) was sure that wasn't going to happen today.

"If we can get you laid down now, we can get set up and have these two. Do we know what we're having yet, or is it a surprise?"

(Y/n) kept her hands latched around Tommy's and smiled gratefully when his hands moved to hold her upper arms. He helped the nurses turn her and move her legs so she was sitting up on the bed. Both (Y/n)'s hands moved to clutch Tommy's bicep which caused him to smile.

"Okay honey?" He whispered softly while he eased her to lay back down and let her curl both her hands around his right hand.

(Y/n) nodded but she pulled his hand down to pin it to her chest and she scrunched her eyes closed when the doctor started to get ready. She didn't want to see him prepare the scalpals or set up the sheet so she wouldn't see. Part of her wanted to see, she wanted to see the exact moment their boys were brought into the world. But the other part of (Y/n) knew it wouldn't be a sight she would easily forget or would really want to see when she felt a little woozy already.

She knew Tommy would look. He wasn't squeamish, he couldn't be in his line of work and he wanted to watch. If he couldn't be the first person to hold their boys, since that would technically be the doctor's job, then Tommy at least wanted to witness them being born.

Her fingers began to glide up and down Tommy's wrist and over his arm, sorting out the creases and wrinkles in his scrubs. She focused her eyes on him and watched the way he smiled and squeezed her hand every now and then to keep her calm.

"Alright, here we go."

The way (Y/n) clenched her fingers into his hand and closed her eyes made Tommy smile. It was almost as if she was anticipating the pain she knew deep down that she wasn't going to feel. (Y/n) might feel some level of discomfort because of the odd sensations, but she wasn't going to be in any sort of pain.

When she opened her eyes, (Y/n) tried to keep watch over Tommy. Noticing the way the lights caused flecks of white to cascade off his eyes like glittering sparkles. Or how he kept biting the corner of his lips and narrowing his eyes every few seconds. Each time he twitched or moved, (Y/n) wondered if the doctor was peeling away another layer of skin. Tommy's reactions and movements were reflecting the procedure.

But she couldn't feel anything. It was a relief to know the doctor was cutting through her skin and all (Y/n) could feel was tiny touches like she was being prodded whilst being deep in slumber.

No pain, no actual sensations or touches or movements at all. They could be slicing her apart and she wouldn't know about it.

"Let's get baby number one out. Nurse."

Tommy let (Y/n) keep his hand pinned down against her chest while he leaned behind the protective white sheet they'd pinned up across the middle of (Y/n)'s stomach so she couldn't see the procedure. It made shivers course down his spine to see the doctor reach into (Y/n)'s stomach like was a magician's act. The clamps keeping her skin pulled apart didn't bother Tommy almost as much as seeing the doctor reach in like that.

It looked invasive. It looked horrific rather than like the miracle he thought it would be.

(Y/n) felt Tommy suddenly tugging on her hand and she lifted her head, adrenaline sparking through her body when she heard a soft cry.

She could feel her heart trying to burst out of her chest and it took all her effort to stay still and prevent herself from trying to move and sit up. But she didn't have to wait long before the nurse was bringing their first boy round behind the curtain so she could see him.

"Here's your first boy." She spoke softly and carefully laid the newborn down onto (Y/n)'s chest who was shaking his arms and fists like he was fighting off invisible hands. His cheek nuzzled against (Y/n)'s chest and she kissed his temple, trying to stop herself from crying but she couldn't help herself.

"Hi baby," Her left hand moved to brush over the top of his head while she felt Tommy lean down to kiss her temple and run his free hand across their boy's cheek.

(Y/n) almost whined when the nurse gently lifted him off her chest again and took him out of sight. But she knew it was because she was going to clean him up and to let her hold her second boy.

"And here's your second little boy."

The smile on Tommy's face when (Y/n) looked up at him was unlike any she had seen before.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) saw Tommy cry. Only in the dead of night after a vivid nightmare or after a rough shift or the very odd, few days when he was feeling low. (Y/n) could probably count on both hands the times she had seen Tommy cry and the only time she saw happy tears was when they were dancing on their wedding day.

But now, with just a few tears in his eyes and one trickling down the side of his nose, he looked so endearing and beautiful.

When he leaned down to kiss the top of their boy's head, (Y/n) tilted her head up and caught his lips in a kiss. She nudged their noses together, grinning when he let go of her hand to brush his fingers along the side of her cheek. With his other hand still cradling the back of their boy's head.

(Y/n) leaned their foreheads together, barely hearing the nurse whisper that she would get their second boy cleaned up so they could hold them both in a moment.

But (Y/n) opened her eyes and looked up at Tommy when they both heard the doctor mutter "When was the last sonogram?" Panic fluttered to life in (Y/n)'s eyes and she moved her hand up to hold Tommy's hand again while she watched the confusion spread across his face like a wildfire.

"Last week… why?"

They'd had a scan last week to make sure the twins weren't moving or facing down. They had to make sure (Y/n) wasn't going to go into early labour before the planned date for this C-section and they needed to make sure the placenta hadn't moved down either. Everything had been fine at the scan. The boys hadn't moved, the placenta was in place. Blood flow and heartbeats had both been normal and healthy.

Was something wrong now?

What could have happened now? When both the boys were already out and they had seemed fine and healthy?

Was (Y/n) bleeding? Had she had some kind of internal trauma or haemorrhage that they hadn't noticed earlier?

"Tommy, w-what's wrong?" (Y/n) pulled on Tommy's hand and stared up at him while their second twin was taken from her chest. She tilted her head back and tried to look for both the boys but seeing the room from a flipped angle made her head spin and made her blood thump in her ears. "Are they okay?"

Surging panic propelled through (Y/n)'s system while she tried to find someone in the room who would tell her what was going on.

She felt Tommy grip her hand tightly while he nodded. He could see the nurses in the far corner of the room, they were cleaning up the boys and both of them were whimpering and wriggling around. Neither nurse seemed panicked or overly worried about the boys, so it couldn't be anything to do with them.

But that thought made Tommy's heart drop to the pit of his stomach like a stone. If it wasn't something to do with the twins, then it had to be about (Y/n). Was his wife okay?

"What's wrong?" Tommy leaned around the curtain and looked across at the doctor with such a stern look that it made the room drop ten degrees and had everyone shivering.

"No, no it's nothing to worry about."

Somehow, (Y/n) didn't believe the doctor's words. She pulled on Tommy's hand and tried to push herself up on her elbows until Tommy gently nudged her back down. She leaned to the left to try and look at the doctor, but her view of him was obscured and she realised his eyes were focused intently on her stomach with something akin to surprise written across his face.

"(Y/n), it seems we have a third wriggler hiding away in here." He smiled through his words which made (Y/n)'s heartbeat ignite and bring the monitor to live beside them.

"T-triplets?"

That couldn't be right. None of their other scans had showed any signs of a third baby. They were having twins. They had been preparing for the last six months to have twins since they went to their first appointment and found out.

It had been a shock that they were having twins on their first pregnancy. Two for the price of one. (Y/n) had even joked that Tommy had planned this somehow because they had been so eager to have a baby after they got married. But they hadn't thought about triplets.

(Y/n) desperately wanted to move her hands down and run them across her stomach but she felt Tommy tugging on her hand like he knew what she was thinking and was preventing her from doing so. She didn't think she looked big enough to be having triplets. She hadn't always looked like she was having twins. The first five months she just looked a little further ahead in her pregnancy. But even now, whenever she told people she was having twins, they were surprised.

How could there be three hiding away in here?

"Really?" Surprise flooded Tommy's voice and when (Y/n) looked up at him, she saw a mixture of emotions on his face. His eyes looked dazed, as if he was going to pass out, but the way his lips parted into an open-mouthed smile showed he was growing excited at this prospect.

"Another boy?" (Y/n)'s voice shook as she waited, watching Tommy's expression as he watched the doctor gently scoop up a third baby.

He wasn't mistaken. He wasn't trying to make some kind of joke out of this or torment them or just play around. They really did have a third baby hiding away in there.

They were going to have to make a few adjustments when they went home. They had prepped for taking two babies back home with them, not three. Two cribs. A double pram. They were going to need extra sets of bottles and a few more baby grows. About a hundred more nappies. The nursery was going to have to be changed around- again.

Tommy was going lightheaded at the thought and he tried to drag himself out of his mind and focus again while his eyes locked on his third little baby.

"Oh, you have a little lady, this time."

(Y/n) choked on a laugh when she watched a tiny bundle be laid on her chest. They had a girl. They had been preparing for the last six months to bring two boys home. Now they were going to have to prepare to bring a little girl home with them too.

"She's so small." (Y/n) carefully danced her fingertips over her daughter's cheek, feeling her smile spread until she could barely look down at her little girl.

She was miniscule. With her legs curled up to her tummy and her arms pinned into her chest, she barely looked the size of a teddy bear. No wonder (Y/n) hadn't looked like she was having triplets. She would barely look pregnant at all if she was just having their daughter and she came out that small. The boys had clearly been hiding her away from them. Keeping her as a surprise.

"I think the boys got the most preference and nutrients… she's going to need a little bit of extra help."

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) nudged her head against Tommy's hand when he let go of her hand so he could crouch down beside her. His hand brushed against her cheek as more tears started to fall down his face and (Y/n) was sure this was the happiest she had ever seen him. And her eyes lit up when Tommy reached his free hand across and started to drag his fingertip up and down their daughter's cheek.

She was going to be tiny when she was in Tommy's arms.

"Where were you hiding her, honey?"

***

Hen: Congratulations! How's (Y/n) and the boys, did everything go okay? xx

Chim: We're very happy for you. Are you all okay and settled?

Eddie: Hope everything went smoothly. Whenever you're up for visitors Chris would love to come down and say hi. x

Buck: Happy Birthday! (To the twins) Can I see a picture? Please?

(Y/n) rolled her lips together, obscuring her smile as she looked at the texts that had popped up over the last few hours. She could almost hear all their excited voices and feel the love radiating from their messages. It was heart-warming.

Buck's message played on (Y/n)'s mind as she looked across the room towards her husband.

He was starting to fall asleep.

His head was tilted down until his chin was just about resting on his chest and he was slouched in the chair with his knees pushed forward. But he had Grace in the crook of his left arm. The newborn was miniscule and swamped when she was laid in Tommy's arm. The way his bicep flexed and how his forearm tensed around her almost engulfed her from sight with how broad Tommy was compared to how tiny and compact their daughter was.

He had been holding the boys for quite a while earlier and had switched to Grace when James and Jake had both fallen asleep and were now in the cribs in the corner of the room.

When she looked back down at Tommy's phone that she had been holding for the last hour, taking photos and sending pictures to family, she smiled.

She set up a group message to Hen, Chimney, Buck and Eddie and attached one of the photos she'd taken an hour ago. A picture of Tommy with one of the boys in each arm and the widest smile she'd ever seen on his lips.

*Here's the proud papa with the boys. Say hi to James (left) and Jake (right). xx

She attached the message to the bottom of the picture and hit send before she slowly sat forward, being mindful of the new set of stitches across the very bottom of her stomach.

She held the phone out towards Tommy, waiting a dew seconds when his eyes began to flicker before they fell closed again and she took the opportunity to snap a quick picture. Loving the contrast in the photos which showed just how small Grace was compared to the boys. Along with the fact that she was wearing a smaller, blushing pink cap over her head and had a tube taped into her nose to help her get a bit more oxygen

*And say hello to Grace, our surprise. xx

When the message sent, (Y/n) was about to put the phone on the side table. She had been too hyped to sleep earlier but the epidural was starting to wear off now and she was beginning to feel drained. But before the phone was even out of her hands, it began to vibrate and ping with messages.

All of them simultaneous. All of them saying the same thing. Just one simple word.

*Triplets?!!

[danveration]

I have a Alastor × fem!reader request. Imma be real with you, I own an Alastor stuffie and for the longest time I wondered, 'What if it morphed into the actual Alastor while I cuddled it?". I know, odd but I think it could possibly be a cute idea? (in the verse Hazbin is still a show, this fic takes place irl)

OH MT GOSH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHH!!! i’ve got to get me an Alastor stuffie too.. If only this would happen irl 💔❤️❤️ i hope this is what you wanted/had in mind :’)

Parings: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: You have a Alastor stuffie and you cuddle it. And it…. turns into the real Alastor?!?!

You have a favourite character from the show Hazbin Hotel, by favourite, you mean FAVOURITE. His name is Alastor, the radio demon. You’ve had a stuffie of him for the longest time, it’s always brought you comfort and it felt good to have a sort of physical version of him. Plus, it’s so cute:)

You’re currently sitting in bed, when you grab your Alastor stuffed animal and hug it. Shockingly, you feel it sort of vibrating. You look down at it and see that there’s shadowy smoke coming from it. You gasp and let go of it.

You’re wondering what on earth is going on, when something that you would’ve NEVER thought to happen, it morphed into THE Alastor from the show.

You think you’re dreaming so you do what everyone does, pinch yourself.

“Shit.” You mumble. Definitely not sleeping, that hurt like a bitch.

You look to your side and you see him laying there, looking confused, but smiling.

He looks around and his eyes land on you.

You’re sitting there in shock, unable to say anything.

Alastor hasn’t ever had this happen to him before, where he unwillingly got teleported. He usually just teleports using his shadow magic. He’s very puzzled on what happened.

As he looks to see you, you’re most obviously alive, and human. He doesn’t know anyone in hell that looks like you, and he knows almost everyone. Is he.. back on earth?

You two are just staring at each other in equal confusion.

He looks over you and sees a “Hazbin Hotel” poster on the wall and raises his brow in confusion even more.

“Who might you be?” He asks.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you manage to stumble out you name. “I-I’m Y/n.”

“I see.. now do you have any idea what I’m doing here?” He asks you.

“No, I don’t.” You shake your head. “I was just cuddling my stuffie of y-“ You stop yourself and refrain from telling him exactly who the stuffie was resembling.

“..Of something. And you just.. appeared!” You say.

“Hm. Now that’s quite the mystery then, isn’t it?” He says. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you then, Y/n. Though the circumstances are quite outlandish. The name is-“

“Alastor.” You whisper out, still in a state of:“wowmyfavoritecharacterfromatvshowjustappearedinmybed.”

Alastor tilts his head and says with confusion in his voice, “Precisely..”

He moves to get up off your bed and stand up, looking around your room. He notices a picture of him on your dresser and he looks back at you with a raised brow.

“Um.. I can explain-“ You start. “You’re not.. real. Well, you’re real because you’re here right now but- You.. You’re not real in this world. Um.. You-“ You ramble on and he stops you.

“I understand.” He says with a smile.

“You.. understand?”

“Ah, yes! I am the radio demon after all. I must be aware that other universes exist. It seems something happened and I was quite literally spawned here.” He explains. “Usually I’ve only heard this happening if it was a vessel of the person, like.. let’s say.. a statue. But it seems there’s no statue of myself in this room?” He laughs.

This makes some sense now. The stuffie must apply to these rules.

“Oh um. I think I know what happened..” You say.

He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Well?”

“So um.. I have a stuffied animal of you.” You say in a low tone, your cheeks reddening.

“What was that, dear?” He asks.

“I have a stuffie of you..” You say.

“A..” He starts. “A stuffie? Of me? Now why would you have that?” He laughs.

“I.. for comfort?” You answer, hoping he isn’t too weirded out.

“Comfort? Well that’s a delightful!” He says in amused tone.

“Yeah um.. you’re basically a fictional character in this world.” You say.

“A fictional character?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You answer.

“I see..” He looks as if he’s trying to piece together everything. “Well, my dear! I’m not quite sure on what exactly is going on. But I assume it’s only momentary. Maybe a glitch in the system or something.” He laughs.

“Y-you..” It’s finally setting in that Alastor is in your room.

“I?” He asks with a smile.

“I LOVE YOU.” You blurt out suddenly without thinking.

Alastor jumps a bit at that and steps backwards, his eyes wide.

“S-sorry. I just.. I cant believe you’re here.” You say. “How did this even… THE Alastor is in my room.. He.. Oh my god..” You mumble on to yourself.

Alastor is a clever man, he knows that you must be a “fan” of his. He notices that he obviously doesn’t exist in your world. Though he finds your reaction quite adorable. Especially that you have a stuffie of him? You’re idolizing him? Out of all people? He’s charmed.

“Dear.. You alright there?” He asks you.

You look back up at him and smile.

“Very very alright, yes.” You answer.

———————————————————————

Suddenly, you bolt awake. It was just a dream..?

You sigh and shift on your side, still holding your Alastor stuffie. If only dreams were real.

As you fall asleep, you don’t notice but the stuffie begins to vibrate…