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angelwithdemonictendencies · 3 days ago

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my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?

qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.

(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).

like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.

if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.

regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.

"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."

so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.

you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.

she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"

you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.

"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."

you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.

"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.

this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.

his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.

he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.

his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.

you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.

"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.

he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.

in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.

"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.

he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.

"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.

you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.

it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.

you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.

he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.

he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.

he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.

you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.

the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."

you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."

"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.

so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.

already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.

he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.

you thanked him again.

"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"

he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.

the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.

was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?

"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.

the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."

quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.

the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.

you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.

he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.

"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.

a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.

maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.

you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.

"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.

you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.

"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.

"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.

as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.

you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.

and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.

you'd never see him again, you believed.

in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.

but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.

you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.

three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.

now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.

you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"

something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.

so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.

you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.

as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?

but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.

"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.

"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."

so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.

you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!

"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.

"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."

heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?

"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.

awesome save.

he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.

his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.

a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.

"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.

it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.

"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.

he gave a little nod.

"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?

he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.

you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.

"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.

he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"

were you?

you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.

you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.

"we're going!" his friends called.

"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.

his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.

"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"

your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"

and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.

"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.

and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.

do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!

oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?

you could have scowled.

and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.

everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.

teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.

it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.

so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.

he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.

this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?

"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.

you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.

ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!

but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.

"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"

not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.

"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.

"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.

and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?

why had you relinquished control so easily?

it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.

"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"

he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.

you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.

you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.

after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.

"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.

he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.

he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.

"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.

you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."

"only if i get one, too," he answered.

you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"

he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."

and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.

"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.

you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.

"did you keep your promise?" he asked.

of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.

suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.

there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.

"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"

did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.

"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.

"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.

you tried not to stare at them.

you gave him a last look before you left.

"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.

ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?

his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."

you didn't ask what was.

so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.

you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).

but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.

his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.

and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).

he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.

that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.

and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.

well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.

one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.

"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."

you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.

his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."

here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.

"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"

you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?

"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.

"good," he replied, content.

but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.

"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.

"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"

"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.

as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.

he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.

walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.

"oh god, i know that look," one said.

"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?

you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."

"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.

"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.

you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.

"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.

you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."

you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?

and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.

the air sparked.

"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."

his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.

"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.

"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.

you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."

something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."

dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.

things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.

you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.

but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.

i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.

but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."

he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."

you scrunched up your nose in confusion.

"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."

a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.

"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.

he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"

you sputtered.

"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.

"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."

you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.

"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."

his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"

"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"

he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."

he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.

so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.

a terrible, terrible idea, really.

especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.

"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."

"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.

so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"

his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.

you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.

he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.

you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.

"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.

something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.

he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?

but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.

"your turn, doll," he said.

you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.

you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.

you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.

"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"

you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"

he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."

the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.

it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.

"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.

he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.

"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"

he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."

you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."

his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.

sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.

but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.

you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.

it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?

don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.

when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.

it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.

but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.

as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.

after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.

closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.

you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.

it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.

your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.

before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.

but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.

and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.

you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.

so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.

but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.

so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.

what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.

you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.

don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.

he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?

and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.

but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?

time. you needed some time.

thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.

so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.

it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.

which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.

"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.

"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."

you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.

"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"

you were skeptical. "why?"

"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."

you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.

"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."

you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.

the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.

"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.

"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"

you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."

"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.

just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.

the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?

so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.

"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.

"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"

things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?

you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."

you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.

he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"

your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."

he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."

"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."

"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.

"you what?" you pressed.

he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."

you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.

you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.

"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.

so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.

so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."

so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.

here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.

someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.

the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.

you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.

"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."

you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.

"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."

you didn't have to think about it. "yes."

and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.

the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.

needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.

and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.

it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.

when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.

when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.

when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.

you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?

how slow could you bear?

every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.

so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.

he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"

you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."

he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"

you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?

babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.

then who was i praying to? you could have asked.

and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.

well, who answered? they would have responded.

what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."

you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.

"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.

"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"

you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."

you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.

and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.

you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.

you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.

he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.

kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.

like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.

you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.

he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.

"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.

he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"

you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.

"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"

"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."

he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.

"fuck, so tight," he rasped.

you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.

"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."

you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.

your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.

"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.

you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."

he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"

you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."

something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.

he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.

you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."

and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.

"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."

you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.

he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.

as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.

"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.

he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."

he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.

"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"

you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.

"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."

he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.

the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.

"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"

and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.

he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.

effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.

there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.

"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.

"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.

"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.

a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.

he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.

well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.

i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.

all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.

perhaps it was just none of their business.

fin.

#hockey #nhl #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey smut #nhl smut #jack hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #vancouver canucks

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willowsnook · 15 hours ago

Text

Oblivious

hi hi hi!!! can I request pulled pork with bell peppers and wheat bread please??? thank youuuu! I adore your writing, and I hope you’re having a good week!!! <333

Charles leclerc x bsf!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

It was a gorgeous day in Belgium, and you were hanging out with your group of friends in Ferrari’s hospitality area.

“I’m bored; can we go walk around outside?” you asked Arthur, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. He chuckled and held out a hand to pull you up. Together, you walked down to the paddock, breathing in the summer air and the lively atmosphere.

“Arthur!” a voice called from behind you. You turned to see an unfamiliar face waving at your friend—a guy with a youthful charm and a sun-kissed complexion that matched his dark hair. He was grinning, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked at you as if he already knew you.

“What’s up, man?” Arthur said, pulling the guy into a hug. “Have you met Y/N?”

The guy shook his head and extended his hand. “I’m Gabriel.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied with a smile, and his gaze lingered on you for a beat longer, like he was connecting some dots.

“You’re Charles’s friend, right?” he asked. You nodded, and he laughed. “Yeah, he told me to stay away from you.”

Arthur laughed, but you blinked in surprise. “He told you to stay away from me?”

Gabriel flashed a cheeky grin. “Probably afraid I’d sweep you off your feet.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. “Why would he care?”

Gabriel shot Arthur an amused look, as if they knew something you didn’t.

Back at the garage, you couldn’t stop replaying the conversation, even as Charles caught up with you. “Are you okay?” he asked, scanning you with concerned eyes. “Did you get something to eat? Water?”

“Yes, Charlie, I’m fine,” you giggled, and he relaxed a bit.

“Are you staying down here or going up to the club?” he asked.

“Maybe upstairs with everyone else,” you replied.

A slight frown appeared on his face. “Unless... maybe stay down here? It’s more interesting down here, ya know?”

“Okay I’ll stay down here,” you agreed and he smiled. “I met someone new today.”

“Oh yeah, who?” He asked.

“Gabriel Bortoleto,” you replied and you watched him look away instantly, cheeks reddening. “And he said the funniest thing.”

“He’s a funny guy,” Charles mumbled and you smirked.

“Hilarious, especially the joke about how you told him to stay away from me,” you drawled out and Charles was looking anywhere but at you.

Before he could answer, Bryan called for him, and Charles looked relieved to escape the conversation. “Gotta go! And don’t wander, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, mon cheri,” he said, giving you a quick hug before heading off.

Rebecca was already sitting by the screens, so you joined her, and the older woman gave you a wide smile.

“Watching from down here today?” She asked and you nodded, fiddling with the headset.

“Charles insisted,” you replied, and she smirked. You told her about the incident with Gabriel and she just laughed, shaking her head.

“When are you going to realize that Charles is in love with you?” she asked playfully.

You laughed. “He’s not in love with me. I’m just his best friend.”

“You’re the only best friend down here, though,” she commented, but you brushed it off.

------------------------------------

Summer break meant one thing: Charles bothering you nonstop to hang out. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around your 9-to-5, which is why you were now on a walking lunch with him, walking Leo through a nearby park.

“You should just quit your job,” Charles said for the millionth time.

“I need money, Charlie,” you reminded him as Leo sniffed the grass. “Not all of us get paid millions for working weekends.”

He ignored your comment. “Let me fund your lifestyle.”

“And be what—your maid?” you joked, rolling your eyes. “You’re asking me to be a stay-at-home wife without marrying me.”

He muttered something under his breath, and you looked at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, tugging Leo along.

You sighed. “I like my job, Charles.”

“I know. I just don’t like that I can’t see you whenever I want.”

“We see each other all the time.”

“It’s not enough,” he mumbled and you grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at you.

“You are my best friend Charles,” you told him. “It doesn’t matter if I see you everyday or just once a week, nothing is going to change that.”

-----------------------------------------

That night you were at the Leclerc’s family home, as they had invited you over for dinner along with the boys. After dinner, you, Charles, and Arthur stayed up drinking and while you paced yourself, Charles did not.

You knew he was drunk because he had been so physically affectionate for the past hour. It started with him moving his arm behind you while you guys were seated on the back patio. Then, he ran his hand up and down your thigh. Now his head was lying in your lap, and you absentmindedly massaged your fingers through his hair.

You were telling Arthur about your latest work project when Charles chimed in.

“I told her to just quit her job,” he complained to Arthur.

Arthur smirked. “And be your stay-at-home wife?”

“That’s what she said—and that I’d have to marry her,” he grumbled, as if you weren’t right there. “Which was already my plan.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, and you froze. Charles hadn’t said anything like this before. But he was drunk. Just drunk thoughts... right?

“You know she can hear you Charles,” his brother said nervously.

“It doesn’t matter, I could kiss her on the lips right now, and she’d probably just write it off as something ‘best friends do.”

Arthur didn’t say anything; you just sat there, mind-reeling. Your hand was frozen, and Charles reached up to grab it so that you could keep massaging his head. Arthur said goodnight to you, and you stayed out contemplating what had just happened. The Gabriel thing made sense to you now, but he had never said anything before. These were probably just drunk thoughts. Yeah, that made the most sense.

“I’m tired,” Charles said, looking up at you. “Will you stay the night?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said softly, and he frowned.

“Why? You always do,” he pushed back.

“I just want to go home,” you whispered, moving off the couch after he sat up. Avoiding his stare, you grabbed your keys and headed towards the door. He called after you, but you kept walking; you just needed to breathe. You were supposed to leave with Charles tomorrow to fly to Spain to see Rebecca and Carlos, but now you were very stressed.

-------------------------------

The next morning, Charles acted like nothing had happened, which was somehow both comforting and frustrating. You both fell into your usual traveling routine, playing cards and chess to distract him on the flight to Spain, where Rebecca and Carlos were waiting at a coastal villa.

As you toured the villa, Rebecca shared a bit of news with a smirk. “There’s only two bedrooms.”

Your heart skipped, but Charles simply shrugged. “No problem. We’ve shared a room before.”

Smiling weakly you agreed and followed him to put the luggage away.

“I’m going to change into my swim shorts and go down to the beach,” Charles told you as you unpacked your suitcase.

“That’s a good idea, I’ll do the same.”

You heard him go into the bathroom to change so you decided to change in the main room. Pulling out your favorite black bikini, you slipped the bottoms on but were struggling to tie it behind your back when you heard the bathroom door open.

“Can you help me?” You called out to Charles and you heard him walking towards you. He didn’t say anything, and you felt his fingers brush against your bare back as he tied the strings. Turning around to thank him, the words caught in your throat when you saw the look on his face. He was flushed, his pupils blown wide as he glanced up and down at you, wearing basically nothing in front of him.

“Thank you Charlie,” you whispered softly and he swallowed before murmuring a response.

Thinking about what he had said last night, you felt the tension between the two of you even as you walked down to the beach. Charles went to join Carlos in the water, and you plopped down next to Rebecca.

Filling her in on what happened last night she smiled knowingly at you.

“He basically confessed he’s in love with you, and here you are, making excuses.”

“He was drunk!”

“Oh my god,” she said laughing. “He was right, he literally could kiss you and you wouldn’t believe it. I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t know,” you said sighing. “I guess it’s insecurity; he lives in this world of glamour and flashing lights full of influencers and celebrities. I’m just me, a normal girl who has a normal job and a normal past.”

Rebecca squeezed your hand. “Have you ever thought maybe he likes you because of that? That maybe you make him feel like he can just be himself when he’s with you and not Charles Leclerc the Ferrari golden boy?”

“I guess,” you said thoughtfully. You had never really looked at your friendship with Charles that way, but it made sense. While yes Charles invited you to races and fancy trips with him, you often spent time doing mundane things together, like walking Leo or getting groceries. When you really thought about it, you realized that those were your favorite moments. You would take cooking dinner together on a random Monday night anytime over accompanying him to an event.

Fuck, you were in love with your best friend and it scared the hell out of you.

-------------------------------------

The next day, you avoided Charles at all costs, which was pretty difficult considering you were basically on a couples vacation. It also was incredibly noticeable how you insisted that Rebecca be your partner for everything and wanted to just have girl time in the afternoon.

She didn’t bring him up, but she knew you were waging an internal war with yourself, so all she could do was be there if you wanted to talk it through. Your feelings were still at the forefront of your mind when dinner rolled around, and you were much quieter than usual. It was like Rebecca and Carlos were out for dinner because they were the only ones talking. You were eating silently, and Charles was just staring at you.

Fed up with the situation, Carlos stood up, pushing his chair back, “I think I would like to spend some quality time with my girlfriend, so goodnight you too.”

Rebecca smirked at her boyfriend, knowing he was impatient with the dance you and Charles were doing around each other, and got up to follow him. Gathering the plates, you walked back into the kitchen, and Charles followed you, helping dry as you washed the dishes.

You were about to turn to go upstairs when he gently grabbed your elbow, causing you to look at him, “Can we take a walk? Please?”

Those dark blue eyes looked at you with such a pleading gaze that you nodded.

Slipping off your shoes, you followed him down to the beach, and the walk was silent for a bit as you stuck in your head.

“Mon cheri, please tell me what’s wrong,” Charles said, breaking the silence to look at you. He had stopped walking, and you turned to him, eyes already filling up with tears.

“Tell me what to do to fix this,” he begged, and you felt like all your emotions were going to burst like a volcano.

“I’m in love with you Charles!” You yelled, surprising even yourself. Charles’ eyes widened and a grin broke out on his face.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost skittish as if he were afraid you might disappear if he moved too quickly. You felt a shiver run through you, not from the cool evening air but from the intensity of his gaze.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked softly, his voice filled with a warmth you’d only dared to imagine. You took a shaky breath, trying to gather the courage to say everything that had been locked in your heart.

“Because… because I’m afraid. Afraid of losing what we have, of things changing, of you finding someone who actually fits into your world,” you whispered, your eyes cast down.

Charles cupped your face gently, tilting it up so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Mon chéri, I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the parties, or the cameras, or the lights. When I’m with you, I can just be Charles. Not the driver, not the celebrity—just… me. I'd be insane not to love you,” he murmured, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your heart swell.

Before you could fully process his words, his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, testing. But as you melted into him, all your worries slipped away, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his kiss. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let you go.

When he pulled back, you could see the hint of a smile on his face, soft and full of promise. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I love you too, Charlie."

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

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kinardsevan · 2 days ago

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So I’m split 50/50 on this at this point. Because we don’t have crystal clear answers on ANYTHING, and there is a part of me that’s like “leaning into the trope actually makes sense for everything else they’ve done with this story”. But then obviously the interviews are so ass backwards, and and and…

Lou’s answers also aren’t crystal. He said he was back at SWAT, which he quite literally is right now, so it’s not like he said it and he went back weeks later to shoot SWAT. His answers about “opportunities” isn’t clear either because working actors by nature, always have opportunities. We have no idea if 911 includes those opportunities (based on my theory of this being a fake out, I mean).

I will say though. When rewatching the breakup from the understanding that Buck is very starry-eyed and “look at you, you magnificent Gay Man”, the breakup is easily understood for me. I vibe with @spectres-fulcrum’s theory. It actually makes a SHIT ton of sense. Further, I’m not gonna lie… if someone told me they wanted to take the next step in a relationship (and that step was moving in together), but I Love You hadn’t even been said… I’d be checking for a fever. It unfortunately comes across as not understanding the seriousness of the suggestion. Like obvs our little shipper hearts were smashed when Tommy was like “not only can I not live with you, but it’s unlikely that I’m the person you’ll choose to stay with”. When you couple the fear with the reasonability of what he’s actually saying, it makes sense.

This is why I’ve said that at its core, if the people writing the story have a brain and didn’t just throw shit at the wall (which will remain to be seen), there has to be a come to Jesus moment about their feelings for one another. Buck has to address whether he actually loves Tommy or if he was just along for the ride because Tommy made everything so easy. (I feel like we as the viewers know they’re in love, but it has to be expressed. And then there needs to be some level of effort in the story where Tommy is pulled into the fold.

I say all that (again) to point out that if this is NOT what the show is doing, and they just split them up because they thought it would make good drama (or some other shitty excuse)… that’s not just dropping the ball. That’s proverbially shitting the bed. And if that’s actually the case… imma see my way out (probably).

So yes, I hold out hope that everything we’ve been told over the past week is to keep us distracted. But I also know that when I reread those same quotes and rewatched the breakup with a clear head (and not from my shipper standpoint), things felt clearer.

In closing…. They did still massively fumble the way they were trying to communicate the issues in the relationship. This was not done well by any stretch of the imagination. But we’ll see what they settle on doing next.

ngl if it turns out that Tommy was coming back all along and that this was all part of the romcom ‘breaking up then making up’ trope i’m gonna be so embarrassed for getting this sad 💀 but that’s what i get for catching up with a series for once ig

#Mel’s musings #bucktommy #the god awful breakup

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confiaenanaa · 2 days ago

Text

sweet girl - eminem

fem!y/n x B. Rabbit

masterlist

synopsis: y/n finally meets Lily after Rabbit decides they're ready.

warnings: cursing, mention of sexual actions

A/N: hope y'all enjoy! if y'all have more prompts, share!

Y/N sat in bed, reading her newly-found favorite magazine. As she turned the page, she felt a buzz under her leg. She sat up, searching for her phone (which she'd presumed had made the buzzing). She opened it to find a text from none other than her beloved boyfriend, Jimmy.

"Hey baby. Can you call right now?"

She had to admit, she was a little surprised. This was supposed to be his break time, during which he never called. She texted back quickly, wondering what could possibly warrant a call during his beloved 20 minutes of break.

"yeah. what's up?"

Y/N started to grow anxious. Why is he calling? Did he want to break up with her? Did he do something he shouldn't have? Did she do something to upset him?

Before she could finish her thoughts, her phone rang. Caller ID: jimmy :)

She answered by the second ring.

-Hey! What's up Jimmy? Why'd you call?

Jimmy smiled behind the phone. He was glad he was doing this.

-Hey baby. Just wanted to know if you could come by my place today and sleep over.

-Yeah, I can come by soon. Who's your sister staying with?

Every time she'd come by Jimmy's house, it was for a quick fuck or to hang out for a few hours. And Lily was never home during these sessions. Jimmy didn't want Y/N meeting her and Lily getting attached without knowing that Y/N was trustworthy.

But, by now, he knew she was ready to meet Y/N and Y/N was ready to meet her.

-Actually, I was hoping if you'd want to meet her today. I think it's time.

Y/N was basically jumping up and down with joy when she'd heard this. But she had to keep her cool.

-Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can come by and meet Lily for the first time.

When Y/N approached Jimmy's door, her legs began to shake a bit. Whatever Lily thinks of her could make or break her relationship with Jimmy; plus, she wasn't a huge fan of the idea of her boyfriend's little sister hating her.

Jimmy heard rapping at the door and stood up quickly. He'd already told Lily she was going to be meeting his girlfriend today; she seemed quite calm about it. To be honest, she was more calm than he was. He was praying to every god known to man that they'd get along. He opened the door and saw Y/N standing there with her duffel in hand and some snacks to share.

He smiled and let her in and called Lily into the room to say hi. Y/N was a bit tense, but it was now more out of excitement than anxiety. She looked to the doorway and saw a timid little thing with bright blonde hair staggering over to the couch.

-Hi, you're Lily right?

Y/N immediately softened her voice when she spoke to Lily. She seemed so sweet and quiet, Y/N knew immediately that they were going to get along just fine.

Lily nodded and looked her in the eyes. She then shifted her eyes to look at Jimmy behind Y/N. Jimmy smiled to try and reassure her.

-Y-Yeah. You're Y/N... right?

Y/N's heart broke at seeing Lily's reluctance to show her true self around people.

-Yeah! Say, Lily, what do you like to do in your free time?

-I like to watch cartoons and draw...

-Hey, me too! You wanna go do that now?

Lily nodded and a big grin began to crawl up her face. Jimmy smiled and sighed in relief knowing that everything was going to be okay.

Lily was in bed, probably dreaming of unicorns and princesses. Jimmy held Y/N close in his arms while they laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

-She really likes you, you know?

Jimmy asked, smiling at the memory of Lily telling him how awesome Y/N was.

-I'm glad. I really like her too. You know, when you asked me over, I thought you were wanting to do something else.

Y/N said, slightly smirking. Jimmy chuckled and playfully slapped her on the shoulder.

-You wish that's what we were doing.

-Nah. Meeting Lily was better. They both giggled, feeling content. Then, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

#eminem imagine #eminem x reader #new writer boost #masterlist #writers on tumblr #eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #hip hop #dr dre #50 cent #eminem fanfiction #eminem fluff #marshall Mathers x reader #slim shady x reader

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antianakin · 3 days ago

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Poor Shin was a casualty of the show she was in being four separate narratives in a trenchcoat and she was only actually relevant to one of them.

I would've loved to know more about her history with Baylan, why she's so loyal to him, how they met and came together as a master and apprentice at all. The evolution of it is so interesting because you can tell that Baylan has such a completely different idea of where this relationship is going and what it is than Shin does. Shin seems to believe their goals are all about acquiring power and believes they're going to stay together probably forever (unless one of them dies). Baylan isn't actually after power at all but knows that Shin IS (or at least he BELIEVES that's what she wants) and is fully prepared to dump her in order to go after his own goals, but he also seems to think that this separation is the healthiest thing to do because all relationships come to an end and, for him, this is just their natural end. He cares about her, but he isn't DEVOTED to her the way she is to him. For Baylan, this is the last lesson he'll ever teach her. For Shin, this was an immense betrayal that came out of fucking nowhere. And I just find that dynamic so interesting, but because we have literally ZERO context, it's just a promise of something more interesting than it actually is. It's all questions that you have to hope get answered later somewhere but nothing genuinely SOLID.

The one thing that I found MOST interesting about Shin was that she was, quite honestly, the most Jedi positive person in the entire show (unless we count Jacen being excited that Sabine is going to become a Jedi). It's SABINE who asks for more information about the Jedi, it's SABINE who asks if Baylan misses them (and the idea that he MIGHT miss the Jedi is at least a confirmation that they were good enough people TO miss and that it should be sad that they were killed and aren't around anymore, which is more credit than either Baylan or Ahsoka ever give them, and a more emotional connection to the Jedi as a concept than either Sabine or Huyang really show). She's got a Jedi padawan braid in her hair and that indicates EITHER that Baylan told her about it and wanted her to have it, or that Shin knew about the tradition somehow and specifically asked to have it or put it in herself without asking because it meant something to her. Either way, that is, again, more of a connection to the Jedi than we see from ANYONE ELSE on the entire show and more of a DESIRE for a connection to the Jedi than we see from anybody else.

And it feels BONKERS that the one character on this show that doesn't have ANY real connection to the Jedi aside from Baylan who doesn't really identify as one anymore and isn't intentionally trying to train her to BE a Jedi, is the one who seems most inclined to view them positively and seek out a connection to that identity.

And I want that to mean something, I want it to be a glimpse into a depth that will get explored at some point, but I just... don't really think it is. At best I think it was a fluke and her moments of connection to the Jedi are just there to help move someone else's narrative forward, to help someone else be a mouthpiece for the show's thesis, or as a cool aesthetic without any deeper meaning to it.

At worst, I think it's possible that Shin's more positive connections to the Jedi are intended to be an indication of CORRUPTION in her. The Jedi are represented as weak elitist failures in the Ahsoka show, you're not supposed to WANT characters like Ahsoka and Sabine to truly BE Jedi. At best, you're supposed to want them to be Jedi who are very DIFFERENT from the Prequels Jedi because to be like the Prequels Jedi is to be a failure. Sabine doesn't wear the braid, she doesn't wear Jedi robes and instead explicitly dresses in ARMOR, she doesn't trust or respect traditional/standard Jedi protocols, and she doesn't believe in the Jedi's teachings about attachment. Ahsoka claims to not be training her to be a Jedi but does try to push more Jedi-like teachings of non-attachment earlier on and that theology is clearly represented as bad and repressed, while Sabine's willingness to give up everything for love is represented as HEROIC. Sabine's lack of connection to anything more traditionally Jedi-like is the symbolic visual representation of her heroism, while Shin's somewhat greater visual connection to more traditional Jedi things might actually be representative of her corruption. Shin, like the Jedi of old, is too old-fashioned, too stuck in her ways, and that will destroy her in the end.

I don't LIKE that analysis of her, obviously, I'd much prefer the idea that Shin's connection to the Jedi is actually a hint that she's not beyond redemption, but given the themes of the Ahsoka show, the second option seems so much more likely.

Overall, I DO think that poor Shin got left out in the cold in terms of development and she ended up pretty flat as a character because the show was way too overstuffed and something had to give. Theoretically she'll get more focus in the second season since the search for Ezra is over, Thrawn is gone, and they're separated from everything happening in the other galaxy, so characters like Baylan and Shin can finally take center stage in a way that was simply impossible in season 1. Whether that development will be any good or not is obviously incredibly questionable, but given her fan favorite status, it seems fairly likely that we'll see much more of her.

Kinda sad about Shin Hati's characterization...

She already has none in canon, and in the fandom she is always just a different shade of "crazy eyed girl" (a really popular trope in fandoms in general) which is extremely boring...

Like, can we try and give her something... more??? Please???

#shin hati #shin critical #shin hati critical #ahsoka show critical #anti ahsoka show

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akutasoda · 3 days ago

Note

can I request the OM brothers with a reader that’s kinda like Banica conchita (Evillous chronicles)? I find her similar to Beelzebub which is why I wanna request it-

universal hunger

synopsis - how are they with a banica!mc

includes - lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, wc - 1.2k

a/n: i got your other ask dw :) i kinda went more with banicas contract with the avatar of gluttony-

lucifer ★↷

↪as the eldest brother, lucifer preferred to have a good grasp on whatever idiotic thing his brothers had done. that included any pacts made. but he didn't quite know how to feel about the fact beel had made a pact with a human.

↪lucifer would've expected mammon or asmo (again) to form a pact with someone not beel. however that made him more inclined to believe that it was made with a much more valid reason. although he still wasn't quite sure how to react when you were the human exchange student.

↪it did bring some comfort knowing you would be at less risk of being a target of other demons with a pact from one of the brothers but other than that, he still didn't know how to feel about you. although he quickly realized that all you and beel shared, minus the pact, was your extreme love of food.

↪outside of that, lucifer did like how strong-willed you were. it was slightly refreshing and a welcome surprise to what he assumed the human exchange student would be like. maybe beel hadn't chosen such a bad person to form a pact with.

mammon ★↷

↪in all honesty, mammon found it near hysterical that beel made a pact with a human. he was one hundred percent certain that if he had done that, lucifer would've given him the worst punishment yet and yet he was fine with beel doing it.

↪although mammon could agree that you and beel were practically no different and it made sense why you two had a pact. your endless hunger rivaled the very own avatar of gluttonies and that was quite intimidating if mammon really thought about it.

↪originally, he would have to admit that he thought he could use your pact with beel to weasel out some grimm for him. but that plan was quickly thrown out the window by multiple factors - namely your genuine friendship with beel and overall lack of interest.

↪however that was something that he could secretly hope to build with you. for protection from those who claimed they were scammed by him and hopefully a quick source of money obviously. nothing else. not a genuine friendship. nope.

leviathan ★↷

↪levi couldn't care much less that the other hunan exchange student was someone who had already made a pact with beel. maybe he did find something comical about the situation but otherwise he couldn't have cared much.

↪although because of your previous connection to his brother, levi was much more inclined to trust you easier. beel wasn't exactly like a few of his brothers who made impulsive and often foolish decisions. and although beel and levi weren't really similar, levi could trust his judgment.

↪and even though you practically were beel if he was a human, levi found himself seeing you as a close friend sooner than he would've should you of been a complete stranger. although sometimes your strong-willed personality could intimidate him occasionally at the beginning.

satan ★↷

↪satan was rather surprised that beel made a pact with a human, it was just luck that the same person was the other human exchange student.

↪he could probably make an educated guess as to why beel would've made a pact with someone and his guess would've been right. the answer was evident by your hunger that rivaled the avatar of gluttonies own. now it seemed way too obvious.

↪in satan's eyes, your constant hunger and love for food was the exact same as his brothers, to the point that it was almost concerning considering you were still a human at the end of the day whereas beel was a demon. so satan was wildly surprised you ate just as much as beel - especially the devildom cuisines

↪but outside of that, satan was quite impressed by how strong-willed you were about anything else as well. a rather good candidate for the human exchange student who, outside of your constant hunger, was a genuine person to be around.

asmodeus ★↷

↪when asmo first found out that beel had made a pact with the human exchange student, prior to the programme, he was shocked. mainly about how he hadn't been told sooner - asmo hadn't exactly taken beel as the kind to go making pacts with humans.

↪so when you showed up in the devildom he was certainly intrigued as to why beel would've chosen to make a pact with you. although looking back asmo could've taken quite the educated guess as to why.

↪it really shouldn't of surprised him that you were practically a human version of beel and that's why you two had such a pact. but asmo thought it was quite sweet you two had such a bond over food.

↪although asmo did think that you were a nice person outside of that however. definitely someone he could talk and gossip with.

beelzebub ★↷

↪he recognised you immediately. how could he not when his pact mark thrummed to life as soon as you entered the devildom? and the fact that he could recognise you by your looks alone.

↪and in all honesty, beel was overjoyed that you were the exchange student - and it visibly showed when from the very first day of the programme you and beel practically became attached at the hip. it was clear you would adjust just fine.

↪it also became very obvious just why beel had formed a pact with you. your love of food rivaled his own and your open expression of wanting to try anything as long as it was edible meant that beel was eager to show you all the devildom cuisines he could - even if it could be harmful to humans as you didn't seem to care.

↪some people were even convinced that you were just beel if he was human. but it wasn't just your equal amount of hunger that beel liked about you, he also thought that you were just a genuine person who was nice to hang around.

belphegor ★↷

↪due to the twin bond between him and beel, whatever happened in their life was reported immediately back to the other. and so when beel formed a pact with a human belphie was the first to know. although he wasn't exactly happy about the fact some human had power over his brother now, he didn't let it show.

↪beel seemed happy with his choice and so belphie bit his tongue. even when you showed up in the devildom he held his thoughts back because beel seemed incredibly happy that you were the exchange student.

↪although, because you spent so much time with beel, that quickly became belphie as well. he was extremely reluctant at first but seeing just how much beel trusted you and how much he genuinely enjoyed being around you, belphie reluctantly gave you a chance.

↪it took a while, but eventually belphie saw why beel made a pact with you (minus the extreme shared love of food). maybe you weren't too bad, maybe belphie could bring himself to like you.

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writeforfandoms · 8 hours ago

Text

Island 8

Find the series masterlist

The group of you are finally ready to leave the base and start on, hopefully, the final journey on the Island.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, mention of hunting, anxiety, general feelings of low self-worth, typical stuff for Survivor for this series.

Word count: 2.7k

It took a further three days to have everything as prepped as you wanted. You made batches and batches of hard biscuits, using up all the flour. Berries would still be available along a lot of the route, so you didn't worry too much about that. Jerky was fortunately something you'd been making for a long time, so you had quite a bit of it to go around. Fresh meat would also be available along the route.

Water was more of a concern, but you were still holding out hope for a drop with more canteens.

Price gave in to your logic, and finished taming the iguanodon, which was good. Ghost surprised the hell out of you by coming back with a stego. Even Soap managed to tame a parasaur.

Gaz still wanted a hyaenadon, so you and he took the ghillie and cuts of meat and started taming. You worked on one - Gaz somehow managed to work on two. It did take two days, as you'd predicted, but it worked.

Leaving the lot of you with plenty of tames to carry things and help guard the group. Hopefully you'd be able to tame a few more things along the way, since you weren't worried much about being able to feed them all until you got to the volcano.

Really, it was a pretty good start.

Soap and Gaz did a good portion of the packing, with Price and Ghost handling the weapons and ammunition. Another thing you wouldn't mind finding more of in a drop.

You kept track of everything, made sure everyone had some armor and kept essentials on them. Just in case.

You didn't even object when Gaz swapped out one of your armor pieces for something heavier.

The morning you were set to leave was… hard. Not for any reasons you'd expected. Packing went quickly and seamlessly, all the tames behaving themselves. Even Ripper wasn't trying to maul anyone.

No, it was difficult for you to leave. You didn't want to leave. You didn't want to leave the safety of your base. You weren't ready to venture into the relative unknown.

Even with the four men by your side.

“Ready?” Gaz finally prompted you, even as one of the tames snorted and shuffled behind you.

You breathed in deep one last time, hands steady as you straightened your shirt. “Ready.” You turned your back on the base and took your place at the front, leading the whole group away.

You didn't look back.

If your guesses were right, it would take about four days to reach the volcano, since the lot of you weren't pushing, and were moving more cautiously. Maybe three, if things went well and nobody got in trouble and there weren't any distractions.

You had enough food to last a week, just in case.

The first day was easy. Nothing bothered you. All was quiet. Feeding everyone was easy - the herbivores grazed as you all walked, and you let Ripper and the hyaenadons after a few dodos. Gaz helped you build up the campfire for the night, helping you cook as the others took care of settling everything else.

“Ye never did tell us how to tame a raptor,” Soap said, eyeing Ripper where the raptor had settled behind you for the night.

“I didn't?” You blinked, surprised. You could have sworn you'd told them already. “Well, it's not easy. The hyaenadons are probably the easiest, honestly.” You swallowed a few berries, thinking over how you wanted to phrase it.

“And the rest?” Price had a keen eye on you, even as he swapped a pot of boiling water for a fresh pot.

“Well, first step is to not get killed,” you answered dryly, smirking at his dissatisfied huff. “You have to trap the predators. Usually that means with something like a bear trap. Feed them while they're stuck and can't go anywhere. Tom was pretty good at building traps that were less harmful, things you could lead a raptor into without risking your arm.”

“Traps, eh?” Price eyed you, clearly considering. “Did he teach you?”

“Yes,” you said slowly, hesitantly. “But we won't have time to build any traps, not on our route. The only chance we'd have of taming one is if we found one already trapped or injured.”

“But it could be done,” Price pressed.

“Sure,” you agreed with a shrug. “Still takes time, so we'd have to pause somewhere nearby, but it could be done, hypothetically. I don't know if we'll need more carnivores though, honestly. I wouldn't say no to more trikes or stegos.”

Price sat back, his curiosity apparently assuaged for the moment.

“How did Tom teach ye?” Soap asked, still looking curious.

“Showed me what he had done with Ripper,” you said, shrugging again. “We had plenty of time. Not like we had anywhere else to be.” You paused, swallowing back bitterness. “At least, that's what we figured at the time.”

Silence settled over the camp for a few long moments, the others giving you time to calm again. You didn't look at them, instead choosing to look at the fire, letting the movement of the flames distract you from your feelings.

You owed a lot to Tom, and you'd never have a chance to repay him.

But maybe if you got these men out… maybe your debt would be closer to settled.

“What else did he teach you?” Gaz was the one to break the silence. “About tames.”

You smiled a little. “Which ones to avoid, like dodos,” you answered easily. “Which ones were easier to tame. Where to find the different creatures.”

“You seen a lot of this place, then?” Soap piped up, watching keenly.

“A fair bit. Not the snowy lands, not the volcano. But I did make the mistake of going through the swamp once.” You shuddered in remembered terror and revulsion. “Huge bugs. Terrifying crocodile-things, except bigger. Lots of fighting and hunting going on in the swamp, all the time.”

“Didn't ye have to go there to get the leech?” Soap looked faintly concerned.

You shrugged. “I stayed to the outside, only went in far enough to find a leech and run. It was fine.” You reached behind you to pat Ripper. The raptor chirruped at you, clearly pleased with the attention.

“Good thing that's not on the way,” Gaz managed to joke, his attention still focused on you.

“Very good thing,” you agreed. “Although once we get into the mountains, there will be plenty of bad shit to keep us busy.”

“We're prepared for that,” Price pointed out, seemingly unconcerned.

You decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. You'd already expressed concern about the danger, more than once, so further harping on it wouldn't get you anywhere. Especially since these four could now survive on their own. They didn't actually need you anymore.

It was what you'd worked towards with them, for them, but it was still a slightly terrifying thought. That they would survive without you.

You shook yourself, getting rid of the worst of the what ifs and maybes, and stood to do a quick round of checks. Now that dark had fallen, it would be best to sleep in shifts, something the four of them had divided up quite nicely.

You weren’t going to object. Not tonight. Tomorrow, though, you’d insist on pulling your weight.

Soap, Price, and Ghost all settled down, apparently content to go to sleep. Soap even went so far as to roll away from the fire, his hair even more of a mess than usual.

Gaz stayed where he was, seated, shoulders relaxed but gaze alert. The firelight cast odd shadows around him, flickering and dancing. Far from scaring you, however, you just thought him beautiful like this.

“You should get some sleep,” he murmured to you, voice lowered in deference to his teammates.

“I will,” you agreed. “In a few minutes.” You breathed in deep, the cold air mixed with the smell of the fire both soothing and exhilarating. “You see the island very differently.”

“Do I?” He sounded curious, glancing at you as you settled a little closer to him. You told yourself it was so you could keep your voices down, let the others sleep.

You didn't acknowledge that you just wanted to be close to him.

Well. You tried not to acknowledge that, anyway.

“You still see the wonder of it,” you murmured, letting your own gaze drift past the fire to the dark woods beyond. “The beauty of this place. I can't see it anymore. I just see danger.”

Gaz was quiet for a few moments before he leaned over enough to nudge his shoulder up against yours. “You've been alone a long time,” he murmured. “Hypervigilance is not surprising.”

You sighed softly, leaning just a little into the comfort he offered. “I'm tired,” you admitted, so quiet you were sure he couldn't hear you.

But he surprised you, turning enough to wrap one solid arm around your shoulders. “I'm here,” he whispered, head tipped towards your ear, foreheads nearly touching. “I'll help. Any way I can.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears, refusing to let them escape. “You already are.”

His arm tightened around you, comforting and grounding, letting you breathe more easily. Neither of you said another word. None were needed. The shared warmth and comfort was more than enough for you.

And when you woke in the morning next to Gaz, rather than where you'd originally set your things down, no one said anything. Soap looked like he wanted to, but he didn't. (The sharp-looking elbow from Gaz might've helped with that.)

It didn't take long until the lot of you were walking again. You had the map, mostly ignoring Price peering over your shoulder at it. You didn't need the map yet, but you wanted to be sure the lot of you weren't getting lost.

“Drops up ahead,” Ghost called from the back of the group.

You paused and shaded your eyes, looking up until you spotted them. One green drop and one white. Your heart thumped in excitement. White drops were rare, and usually had really good stuff.

“Looks like they'll be falling up ahead,” Price said, having also spotted them. “Nearly dead ahead.”

“The white one is a bit off course,” you mused. “But it should be fine. We're not that close to the horse clan here, I think we're outside their normal range.”

“You think?” Price raised one eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I was less focused on keeping up with their territories, and more focused on surviving,” you pointed out, eyes narrowing at him.

Price huffed but held his hands up in apparent surrender. Satisfied, you looked back at the drops. The green would be directly on the way, easy to stop and grab.

An ankylosaurus wandered out of the trees in front of the group, snorting once at the lot of you before continuing to look for berries.

“Slight change of plans,” you murmured, excited now. “You lot go to the green drop and wait for it there. I'll tame this anky and meet up with you.”

“You shouldn't stay out here on your own,” Gaz interrupted, having clearly been eavesdropping.

You shrugged. “So someone can volunteer to stay with me,” you said, unbothered. “Won't take three of you long to get everything out of the green drop anyway.”

“I'll stay,” Gaz immediately offered.

Price sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something too quiet for you to understand. He sounded faintly exasperated. “Fine,” he agreed, lowering his hand again. “Soap, Ghost, on me.” He strode ahead, and you whistled the tames to follow him.

From behind, it was rather fun to see the small herd of creatures following the beleaguered-looking captain. A sentiment Soap seemed to share with you, snickering as he passed.

“More tames?” Gaz asked after the group had pulled ahead.

“Ankys are pretty good defense,” you pointed out. “Not sure how much they can carry, but that tail is a good deterrent for a lot of predators.”

“Not arguing,” he was quick to say, holding out a bag of berries. “Just surprised we're taking the time to do this now, is all.”

You shrugged, pulling out a dark red berry and rolling it between your fingertips. “Way I see it, we have plenty of time,” you pointed out. “And more tames can't hurt.”

Gaz nodded, accepting your logic. “So, approach slowly and feed it until it likes you?” He guessed with a little grin.

You couldn't help your huff of amusement. “Basically,” you agreed. “Keep an eye out and shout if you see trouble.” You left him there, walking over closer to the anky.

It wasn't a long process to feed, fortunately. The anky was hungry, and eager to take berries even from your hand. By the time the other group had the drop packed away, you had the anky following you, docile as any tame.

“Anything good in that drop?” You asked as you and Gaz walked up to the rest of the group.

“A canteen,” Soap answered, holding it up to show you. “And more ammo.”

“Not bad,” you agreed with a little grin. “I hope the white drop has more good stuff.”

The white drop seemed to be a bit off the path you'd drawn for the journey, edging closer to the edge of the Pink Ladies’ territory. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem. Hopefully it would be worth it.

This time, Gaz stayed next to you as you walked. You didn't mind his company, even when you heard a bit of snickering and hushed murmurs behind you. Soap, at a guess. And maybe Price.

The white drop was a bit larger than the average drop, and it only took moments to pry the top open.

The first thing you grabbed happened to be a bundle of incendiary arrows. You whistled lowly, impressed.

“Hardly ever see these,” you mused, passing them to Soap. “Those could come in handy.”

The jar of oil went right after the arrows, and your grin felt a little sharp. A little feral, possibly.

Those arrows would be an excellent way to defend your group, if needed.

Two more canteens, bigger and heavy-duty, met with your approval. More ammo, for all the weapons. A precious jar of cure-all. Two bags of jerky. And a bola, which you’d never had a chance to use before.

“That was a good drop,” you said, grinning, very pleased. “Very good drop.”

“Good to have supplies,” Price agreed, finishing stowing away the last of the extra ammo.

“Now that this is done, we can keep going.” You didn't bother with taking the crate this time. No need, not if you lot actually got off the island. And building took too long on the road to be helpful.

Ghost hissed through his teeth. “Got eyes on,” he said suddenly.

The shift in the men around you was palpable, shoulders drawing up, expressions changing. Gaz shifted so he was half in front of you, physically blocking you.

You'd be impressed if you weren't trying to peer over his shoulder to see what was ahead.

Three Painted Ladies stood ahead, basically in the way. Your heart sank. You hadn't dealt much with them, not in a while, but the red dye on their faces and clothes made it clear. The two marked tames behind them made you a little nervous - an anky and a dire bear. You hadn't seen a dire bear in ages.

You'd forgotten how big they got.

You breathed in slowly, eyeing the distance between your groups. The Painted Ladies weren't approaching, weren't trying to get closer. Clearly waiting.

You'd have to go to them.

“You lot stay here,” you said, quiet but firm. “They won't deal with you.”

“But–!” Soap started to protest, one hand already on a rifle.

“No.” You shook your head a little. “They won't talk to you. They'll talk to me.”

Price looked back at you, calculating. Then he nodded once, firm and steady. “Gaz, keep back, but follow her.”

You didn't object that time. Having Gaz at your back made you feel better, even if you knew he couldn't help. So you breathed in deep, until the ache of it filled your lungs.

Then you started forward, projecting confidence you didn't feel.

#island #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #f!reader

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mad-hunts · 2 days ago

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in response to the other's answer in regards to what jervis would prefer on his toast, jack simply nodded. he'd found himself at a loss for what else to say even though that was actually quite rare for him. maybe it was the idea that barton could be outside at that very moment, listening in, that made jack suddenly feel like a fog had rolled into his mind; making it so that he could protect himself without even knowing for sure that there was a threat in the first place.

barton didn't like talking about julien - he'd pretty much stowed away every single picture but one the family had with him in it, in fact. for it still hurt him too much to look at them. therefore, especially considering his father's history of not being able to regulate his moods well, jack might have to perform 'damage control' if that were the case. but crossing the bridge if he were to get there seemed to apply quite well here. so, the farceur chose to move on and it turned out to be wisely, too.

jervis did look very tense lying there with jack visibly appearing to want to curl up into himself and never come out. after going to the nearby trunk in the room, he opened it. this was done as a means to distract the both of them from succumbing to the weight of their own differing circumstances. though there was certainly a good cover reason for jack to, ❝ oh, wow. ahh... i almost forgot that its supposed to get down into the forties tonight so you might need this. its going to be cold, after all, ❞ it was also hitting sundown at that moment as well.

jack could tell by just looking through the crack in the curtains of the one window in the room. while gnawing on his bottom lip, he pulled out the plush blanket inside of the chest only to shake it out a bit. now, as jack tossed the blanket up just enough to cover jervis's body without touching him? something matilda told him a few years ago echoed in his mind during a conversation they had late at night: 'you know, i know you'd like nothing more than to get rid of all your feelings sometimes - but i hope you never change.'

jack just remembered looking up at the tent he was in that day of camping afterward, as he decided he should probably get to sleep. but it felt validating in a way he couldn't explain as well even now. because jack's first instinct upon seeing jervis was that he was struggling, so he should help him; though one could definitely say that sense of responsibility had made him suffer in the past. thank goodness sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils and exhaling could allow jack to quiet his mind then.

he tilted his head at the other's words and squinting his eyes, deep in thought. of course if jervis didn't believe in one, that was fine, but it appeared like he might. these sorts of concepts could trigger whole debates for a reason, however, as spirituality was something that jack affiliated himself with. but religion? he wasn't so sure, so he more than understood when jervis settled for saying his loved ones being at peace was simply something he wanted to believe in. with jack's sudden exit came the arrival of a much less benevolent figure, to say the least, and barton couldn't say he blamed jervis for seemingly somewhat disappointed that his son left.

jack was easy to get along with, and with just a little bit of time spent with him, he might just win someone over with his compassionate nature. barton knew this well along with the reality he had to learn other people's behaviors throughout the years to appear at least 'semi-normal.' how that was going for the doctor would often depend on who you asked, though. barton could only snort derisively at that, ❝ funny. just remember, you'd be in arkham right now if it weren't for me and my daughter. ❞ he pointed a sharpened nail in the direction of jervis as he proceeded into the room.

the same crack in the curtains jack had once looked through was soon closed with a quick 'swishing' motion. barton was personally raised with a very limited exposure to faith, as neither wesley nor winslow were particularly religious father figures. but barton could admire those who participate in it regardless of their level of involvement in it. though it could be used as a force of evil as much as it could be used for good, a lot of humanity existed in shades of gray.

so even if they were under the threat of suffering through something like eternal damnation after death... in barton's mind, it was only a matter of time before someone used a widespread thing like faith to their own advantage. and maybe this was bad of him but thinking about wesley being in such a place somewhat brought him a sense of twisted satisfaction; because at least barton would be getting a form of justice for every fearful moment wesley put him through that way. barton only blinked as his eyes trailed from jervis's face to the teacup that jack had presumably brought him.

shockingly enough, all he felt when he discovered that marty's father was a powerful figure was an incredible amount of disbelief for a moment before it fizzled away. barton was used to things getting worse even if he couldn't have seen this coming. plus, he'd gotten frighteningly good at treating human lives like this police captain's more as obstacles than actual beings. it remained to be seen which one jervis was to barton. he squinted his eyes before standing up and ultimately finding out that, yeah, he had done that too quickly.

barton felt like he was green around the gills all over again, ❝ that is one way to put it, jervis. but don't worry. you just reminded me that, although we're going to have to get creative, there are ways of getting away with it. i'd say pinning his murder on someone else might be the best. ❞ he uttered after swallowing thickly, making a 'turn around' gesture with his finger towards the other. barton talking about murder as if it was light dinner conversation said everything that needed to be said about how he felt about their current predicament.

maybe it was because he was still feeling a lot of malaise, but no part of it bothered him in particular. the doctor was more worried about jervis becoming queasy because he accidentally saw the scars where he'd stitched on yves's arm to his own body, ❝ uhh, just in case you didn't get that, turn around. i'm going to change my shirt. ❞ once that was done, barton slipped his current bloodied one over his head only to replace it with the other. he slumped down in the chair to the table opposite of jervis and looked over the tarot cards laid out before him.

barton, too, knew how to interpret them. ❝ what were you two planning on doing with these? a 'past, present, and future' reading? because i can do it while my son's gone for you. ❞

Jervis gave the barest of shrugs as he glanced at Jack through his bangs, the quiet rhythm of their breathing, the slow drip of the IV, and the faint shifting of the cards against the tabletop the only sounds piercing the air. "Either one sounds perfectly agreeable. I defer to your good judgment." A ghost of a smile, pale and wan, tugged at his mouth for an infinitesimal moment.

Call it the lingering pangs of paternal instinct or projection, whatever you felt was most appropriate, but some flicker of warmth—worry mingling with concern—stirred within Jervis' breast; softening the veneer of exhaustion and discomfort that clothed him like a second skin. Like an invisible cancer that had latched onto him, draining his vitality—a slow-acting poison decades in the making; only this time, the source was external, a reflection of Jack's own unease radiating across the space between them.

Jervis drew in a shallow breath, feeling the tightness in his chest not as his own, but as if their nerves had blurred and grown entangled. He tried to focus, willing his own breath to steady, his hands to unclench. A low chuckle escaped Jervis' chapped lips at Jack's query. The medications in his IV coursed through him, cold and prickling, sending a frisson over his skin as goosebumps rose in response. And yet, somehow, it eased the deep ache within him, dulling the edges of both pain and nausea. He could feel the weight of his discomfort receding, just slightly, as though the medicine were smoothing his raw nerves; coaxing him toward a delicate, unfamiliar calm.

Not quite like ketamine.... not like the cozy, blithesome feeling that coursed through his veins with each dose. Even when most of his prior consumption of the drug hadn't been consensual—thick enough to cut his teeth on, it ensured small pockets of blissful ignorance hardening into a dissociative shell, like callus. (God bless those poor, ministering angels at Arkham... only a trace of spite and animosity there, rage bleeding with sorrow at how his autonomy and consent was completely ignored, snatched... one wrong move, and he was left cowering in a crumpled heap, or otherwise dead to the world... but now? Would the scales be tipped, if they managed to drag him back there? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer.) If Odysseus and his crew had been desperate to escape the Lotus Eaters only to stumble unwittingly into the clutches of Polyphemus, Jervis felt quite the opposite.

For better or worse, the ketamine had left him numb to everything.

The pain, the grief, the anguish that tore gouges in his heart and mind; lacerated his psyche to shreds, in conjunction with the ECT. Somehow, he compartmentalized it... gravitated to the cannabis as an alternative upon his discharge, once he'd regained his center of gravity and emerged from his self-immurement; the fractures left by his losses and lessons grinding him to the bone. Everything it cost him and what he'd earned in exchange. Simon. Arabella. His time in Ireland. Sylvie. The flood. Alice.

The lengths he had gone...

And so Jervis chuckled; the sound dry and hollow, barely touching his eyes. He met Jack’s gaze, his expression tightening as he mulled over the question, tasting the irony in it.

“An afterlife…” he murmured, his eyes drifting. Thoughts and memories broke the surface like apples bobbing in a bucket: Simon and Stephen putting aside their differences over the blessing at Passover; his and Arabella's quiet, but spirited discussions of Heaven and the saints and catechism, the differences between the Old and New Testaments as they strolled along the shoreline. Stories of the witch trials in Ireland, of John Calvin and his legacy in Scotland.

All the old beliefs he’d grown up with circled back and hit like a tidal wave, tied as much to memories of family as to the concept of religious faith itself, all its beauty and diverse forms, yet it left him feeling frigid now. For a little over three decades, he'd told himself that he could appreciate the mythology of it all, even found it strangely comforting at times, but belief? That had always been a different thing entirely.

Jervis' mind tugged him back to reality. He could sense Jack’s curiosity pressing at the edge of his own awareness, a secondary presence so strong it was almost rendered a physical form. "That's.... a complicated notion, from where I'm standing.” He let out a slow, careful breath; curled his fingers back around his necklace as he dissected the question. “But... yes. I'd like to think our loved ones are at peace."

He could map it all in a dozen lines, right down to his own lived experiences, the rules he tried so hard to follow, the ideals that always seemed to warp and fray. There was karma, consequence, perhaps even the lingering shadows of what people might call a curse. But the idea of any higher being calling the shots? It gnawed at him like an old wound. And so Jervis looked back at Jack, almost apologetic, the faint sting of an old ache flickering beneath his words.

He was spared from elaborating with Barton's sudden appearance; lurking on the threshold like a wraith. Poor Jack's confidence and ease withered like a hapless petunia caught in the dead of winter. A few quiet words of dismissal and a pat to the shoulder were all that heralded the reluctant, leery departure of his one potential ally in the wolf's den.

'As phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.' Jervis sighed, slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, looked Barton in the eye; as well as he could, anyway, with the lingering gray spots and his missing glasses still impeding his line of sight. “Maybe we each make our own heaven—or our own hell.”

Perhaps that was petty or harsh of him to say out loud... though that was the truth of the matter. Jervis didn’t need religious belief to drive him, after all; he needed only his own peculiar code, that precarious balance between curiosity and cynicism, and the sense of duty he still felt for a daughter who had deserved something far more stable, more secure; safer than the patchwork life he had known. Whatever his flaws, his faults, some small part of him still respected the right to believe—what faith meant to others; its power to inspire, to build, to destroy. The cause and effect of human history, the double-edged promises of faith. And maybe that was the root of it: faith could be a tool, a guide, a balm.

But then the stark, often bitter truths he’d learned through survival would come rushing back. Besides, he reckoned, Barton likely wouldn't give a damn about any of his prior train of thought. In any case, on the topic of hell, Jervis never pictured the vast, cavernous expanse of fire and brimstone that Jonathan Edwards had once preached about in the summer of 1741. No. Hell always conjured up fevered images of a frozen lake in the deepest, darkest part of the center of the earth, untouched by light and warmth and life—the last of Dante Alighieri's nine circles.

'I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.'

He was torn from the thick mire of his thoughts, yanked back outside his mind as if caught in a sudden hurricane at Barton’s next revelation. Jervis shut his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, then reached for the cup of tea Jack had brought him. The liquid within was a warm, golden amber—like sea glass he’d once collected as a child in Bermuda, or the bits Alice would gather along Gotham’s coastline on their rare visits when she was little.

How simple those days were...

"Well." Jervis' voice was completely flat, his brow creasing with incredulity and disgust. Barton’s outline weaved and blurred before his eyes like a will-o’-the-wisp. No more, no more… no room, no room. He felt completely hollow. "Trading one problem for another, are we?" His scarred knuckles bulged as his fingers curled around the delicate porcelain; his grip hard enough to produce a faint, foreboding crack.

He would weep, if he had anymore tears left to shed over their predicament. For Marty and his partner, for the trouble Jack and Matilda had been brought into by association… but none for himself or Barton. He wasn’t certain he was worthy of it; and Barton had no qualms over their actions, he’d freely admitted it at that bistro earlier. Jervis’ hands tingled, as if they were still covered by the bloodied gloves he wore when he dispatched the driver in order to retrieve Alice’s rabbit, wielding his hatpins on pure impulse; there was no premeditation involved, but there was no discounting how surgical his actions had been in their efficacy with each targeted nerve cluster and artery. He wasn’t indulging in self-pity, oh no… nothing so shallow or solipsistic. Not like that at all. Just a pure ant mill of growing dread and horror and regret, one that couldn’t be encompassed by words alone.

His teeth sought the gouges in the corner of his mouth from where he’d previously bit himself in the throes of his nightmares, worrying at the cuts till they began to sting anew.

‘Despair has its own calms.’

#divingdownthehole #tw: religion.#tw: unhealthy family dynamics.#tw: mentions of child abuse.#tw: illness.#tw: mentions of murder.#AHH i mean it took me a bit to reply to this one as well so you're all good LOL #and ooh gosh i remember hearing about the food poisoning you'd gotten but i'm so sorry that that happened to you again ):#though aww well i sometimes wonder what i did to deserve you myself but you did so by just being you okok <33 #but GAHHH you are too freaking sweet for words! ILY2 and you're so welcome!! but yesss you haven't hit a roadblock at all or anything #like that i promise you!!! your replies have been just as if not even more top-tier than they usually are in my humble opinion but PLSSS #you're about to make me cry in the club right now ;u; TYSMMM it makes me so happy that you like my portrayal of barton and my writing!#but omg... i was about to say like 'oh do i need to tone it down with everything going on in the RP? because i can if you need me to' but #its good to know that you meant that in a positive light haha though same here if i'm being honest (': like i know i could technically #make it less suspenseful right now but where's the fun in that am i right / hj LMAO i kid i kid... well halfway anyway but that is such a-#good comparison of them. like i truly couldn't have said it better myself and AHH trust me when i say after inserting some of the things #that i did in this reply i'm even more hyped than i was before for what's to come but i'm also kind of UHHH. concerned for barton-#though i know i'm the one writing him OFC i just... man's has some serious issues that he needs to address and they kind of came through #here more than a little. but i loveee how you inserted quotes from dracula and dante's inferno here?#like you big-brained that FR and ohhh okay. that's interesting as i didn't know that was a thing until now. the brain really is fascinating #in its complexity but jervis having schizophrenia cannot be easy. i know that it can be severely debilitating when left untreated but-#i'm not an expert either of course. that is just based on my own research as well but nahhh don't worry! i didn't take it that way at all #the muse doesn't equal the mun after all so its all good haha. i know that barton is being a bit SICK and TWISTED here but that ain't me

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nompunhere · 2 months ago

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Shakes a cup with like 2 coins in it PIRATE VORE CAN WE GET SOME THOUGHTS ON THAT

*SLAMS S/ilver from T/reasure P/lanet on the table*

THIS MOTHERPHUCKER CAN HOLD SO MUCH TRAUMATIZED APPRENTICE/MENTEE FIGURE IN HIM

or like. Enemies. he could also do that. he probably Would do that

#this is probably not quite the answer you were hoping for #but it is a little bit Late here #and I knew if I didn't respond to this with Something the moment I saw it I probably never would #I may come back to this later with non-fandom thoughts or at least more specific fandom thoughts #(also my friend and I made a HK/TP crossover AU last year so if anyone has any questions about that #you can probably ask)#ask #extreme cuddling #yeah idk what else to tag at this point

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therosevest · 1 year ago

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something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.

#and i am quite lonely yes thank u for asking. yeah someday id love to get to know someone again in the context of falling in love #what about it. so what now. i dont think im meant for our understanding of romantic love but boy do i crave it #why am i having this moment rn. well ok consider im on my period all i could think about this morning was [redacted] and both parties #of my dyke drama were back in class today. and the one gay person that i think has a crush on me but we dont see each other super often #so im just. guessing based on the way awkward lesbians communicate. idk #and i feel really just mean but i quite literally dont have it in me to pretend to be nice to this person anymore #i wasnt like. some villain for realizing we were acting really coupley and being like oh shit because i didnt want to hurt them #. and trying to communicate and put some distance between us when i thought they were probably in too deep. it's unfortch it took me a sec #but jesus christ yk i cant walk around and feel awkward about it forever. and im frustrated by the fact that we're just acting so odd #but again frankly i think it's largely bc they have an unhealthy relationship with dating. THROWING HORIZONTAL PUNCHES HERE.#OK. STONES FROM A GLASS HOUSE. IM AWARE. REAL RECOGNIZES REAL.#and YET. despite my past insanity. ive been kind. i can understand disappointment and a little awkwardness #but jesus would you rather i pretend to be in love with you for months and then really break your heart.#this is where i get mean and make a joke like well hey if we couldve had weird really mediocre sad angry dyke sex abt it #that would have been cool with me. but alas. we're here instead and it's fucking with my friendships too #and like we were kind of ok friends too. what now. its just u me and this brick wall u built between us bitch #now was EYE not answering texts for a minute. we dont need to get into it.#because the thing IS if i dont play things exactly right. and im not good at that without prior planning. i will accidentally say or do #something that i know. again. from being insane myself. would be just enough for them to hold onto hope #and im not trying to do that to them you know. i was trying to help with the detachment. shitty as it may be. i dont fucking know dude #this post is going to make me look kind of. well. whatever u guys have seen me at my worst. mostly. and post #ok one last thing sorry if this makes me sound like i have a giant ego. like wow heres this person who really liked me and im just shitting #all over them. not what im meaning to do but whatever

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mettywiththenotes · 2 years ago

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So know how the chairwoman had that one assistant when talking with Hawks about infiltrating the league? Then he kinda just disappeared? I may have found him.

Is he one of the the suit guys on far left of this page?

If so, then it might explain why Mera was suddenly promoted seemingly out of nowhere. It'd also mean that he wasn't trained to be a chairperson like the chairwoman and the other guy might've been.

Maybe? Kinda looks like he might be the guy lying on the floor on the far left. I can't really tell if it is him, but in the case that it is, that would make sense

We have seen him before apart from when he was with the chairwoman

This is the one you're talking about, with the specific guy

But before, we have seen him here in chapter 95

Same eyes, same hair - same guy

But in that scene, he is in a big meeting room

Let's assume this is the HC building. He is also in the same room as this guy

Which, if you don't know, is the same guy who confronted Nedzu about the festival

(He's in a higher authority than Tsukauchi and the dog officer I think)

So my thinking is the guy you're talking about is actually a part of the national police agency, who joined chairwoman in that scene in order to elaborate on Hawks' mission and the importance of it

But even if we're to assume that he is her assistant too, it would make sense given the fact that the HC is understaffed - meaning that people will likely be doing more than one job. So it's not hard to imagine that he could be

My thoughts are that he's with the national police part of the agency though

But as you say, in the end, whether he is in that screencap or not - other probably-more-fit-for-the-job options have been wiped out. That's likely the reason why Mera is the only one left to be put in the position as chairman. And temporarily too, which means he was only put there as a placeholder for a different, more experienced person, likely not trained to be in charge like this

I feel like I need more information on the HC tbh. And Mera. He has always been described as "with the Hero Commission" or a "HC member", never anything specific. He was tasked with helping to set-up the license exam as an examiner twice, maybe that is his main job?

In any case, he also appears in the Rikiya!clone scene - a scene in which the HC ambush Rikiya!clone with police, Heroes and backup all ready to go

So, why exactly was Mera there in the first place? It just doesn't make any sense, unless 1) he was chairwoman's assistant - which I kind of doubt - or 2) Due to just how understaffed the HC is, Mera has been involved in quite a few jobs and therefore got involved with the attack too somehow

I'm more inclined to go with option 2, but it really depends on just how understaffed they are

I would need more info for the HC tbh? But that's what I'm going with atm

#listen im not saying mera is More Than What He Seems (dramatic) or whatever #im saying that due to how understaffed the hc may be #he's probably involved with quite a few things #one of them being a supervisor for the license exam #maybe also doing some stuff for the chairwoman personally?#i have no idea #in any case #i believe that whether the guy you were talking about is chairwomans assistant or if it was actually mera #fact is that the hc is understaffed #so there's a chance that whoever it was - they may have had more than one job anyway #thank you for the ask!😊#asks with metty #bnha asks #hero commission #i hope i answered this okay

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redflannelsheets · 3 months ago

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#a mystery grab-bag of thoughts:#sometimes i just want to send you dumb memes out of nowhere and hope that the randomness and absurdity will make you laugh #when i do my daily crossword puzzles i wish we were sitting across from each other racing to see who finishes first #(but working together on the really difficult ones because god knows I’ll never get a Sunday NYT by myself)#i think of you often but especially when it’s raining #I’ve taken to making a pie every week—nothing fancy just something in a graham cracker crust that sets in the fridge #(so far i have one ol’ faithful recipe and I’ve had a couple of failures but they were still tasty)#my phone sometimes suggests a selection of pictures of you and it used to make my heart stop a little bit #but now i just look at your face and smile and think about how lovely it was to see you every day; I’ll cherish that #i never thought you were a ‘media bully’ but if I could return the favor I’d urge you to watch amc’s interview with the vampire #it’s so GOOD and so GAY and i have a small crush on Eric bogosian that goes in the same category as my crush on Greg Davies #and it’s quite funny in places like a dry humor that leans surreal/absurd #i dunno i think you’d appreciate it even though you’re not a horror person #i wish i could hold your hand and kiss your fingers and probably nibble on them a bit #(what can i say? I’m a cat)#i made some new glitter bottles this week and they look so pretty in the sun #today my Spanish lesson was about telling time #i have no problem remembering ¿a qué hora? but get tripped up on the format of answering #(son las (hora) y (minutos) and son (minutos) para las (hora) and i could get around it by only ever answering on the half hour)#I’m not like *confident* about my Spanish but I’m picking up more than what’s in English captions when i watch stuff which is neat #i do wonder if it’s sad or weird to still feel you here with me in my heart #but i think when someone is precious to you time and distance can’t really touch that love #anyway I’m going to go do my dishes instead of blithering here all night lol #sending you care and love and sunshine and flowers my darling dearest #💜#🌻

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lukesaprince · 3 months ago

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The Other Man H.S

Summary: Where y/n's husband opens up her marriage and she meets Harry on Tinder...

Warning: Smut, oral (f & m recieving), penetration, dirty talk (degradation & praise), spanking, squirting, I think that's it?

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: Hellooo long time no see! It feels like forever since I posted anything and I do apologise for that my brain was taking a hiatus apparently but hopefully I can get back into the groove! This probably needs editing but I hope you like it anywayy.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

“What do you mean?” You took a sip of your wine, trying to sate the erratic nerves jumping within the walls of your body. Not even a few drinks before you arrived to your date could save you.

“Go on Tinder dates.”

Harry, the man who effortlessly charmed you when your friends encouraged you to swipe right on him seemed as relaxed as ever. He had this calm and sensual aura about him that existed through every little thing he did. His smile, the way he thanked the waitress, the way he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and guided you to the table with a hand on the small of your back. Everything.

It was all a little too charming for your first date back in the game. Part of you even wished it would be a disaster. Then you reminded yourself that there had to be a first date. That you had to reclaim your desirability and get back into the dating scene to find yourself again. It had been three months after all, nearly four since your marriage blew up in your face and everything about your life changed.

You felt like you were ready. Or at least willing to give it a crack.

“You seem a little nervous, that’s why I ask. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Harry spoke up again when you didn’t answer right away.

“You didn’t offend me,” you assured, blushing at the way you got so caught up in the attraction of him, “but is it really that obvious?” You shook your head, laughing softly like the idea of actually being on a date was unfathomable. It was. To you anyway; especially given the fact that the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your husband. “This is my first date in… a while.”

“It’s not obvious.” Harry laughed softly, running his hand through his hair. “But it’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“You are?” Your eyes widened, “it’s not because I’m married, is it? Because I put it in my profile and-”

“It’s not because you’re married,” He assured, interrupting your clear panic. He found it quite adorable actually. “It’s because I like you and I think you’re beautiful. I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”

Oh.

Harry didn’t want to overstep. He had only been chatting with you for a week before meeting in person, but he already liked you, at least from the few bits of information he learnt about you. And you were quite pretty, insanely pretty actually. Harry thought you were attractive from your profile, but seeing you in person only solidified that. It would take some serious differences between you two for him to not want to pursue things.

But this was a first date afterall and he wasn’t going to put pressure on something so fresh. You were clear before even meeting him that you weren’t looking for anything serious and Harry was happy with that. Whatever the outcome of this date, he at least wanted to make sure you had a good time. Even if it meant you two never saw each other again.

“Oh.” You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the compliment. Even his eye contact was making you a jittery mess. Harry made you nervous. Giddy even and you had barely known the man a week. “Thank you.”

Carson still complimented you, even still said he loved you, but nothing really felt the same after he wanted to open your marriage. It was like a wrecking ball to your life. Your heart broke instantly and your self esteem took the biggest hit you had ever experienced. Your own fucking husband asking to open your marriage after nearly three years of being married, six of being in a relationship. How were you supposed to take it?

He gave you those same reasons many guys give when they want to open a relationship; that you just didn’t fulfill his needs sexually anymore and that he needed more to be satisfied. You tried to explain that you’d be willing to explore his fantasies if he just communicated them, especially since he had been the one leading a very vanilla (but good) sex life since you two got married, but he didn’t like that idea.

You came to the conclusion there was someone else. Carson denied it and told you he still loved you, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that this was all some fucked up coverup to excuse cheating. So you said no. Safe to say that didn’t work out because a divorce ultimatum and three months later and you were here, trying to reap the benefits from an open relationship you were too reluctant to explore.

Carson of course was happy to follow the rules you two set and be out nearly every damn night with someone, but you could never bring yourself to do it. You were still hung up on the hurt and pure embarassment you felt being forced to open a marriage you thought was happy. In the end you realised that you deserved the pleasure Carson was getting from someone else. You deserve to be desired and taken out on dates. It didn’t seem fair that only one person was benefitting.

“You’re welcome, love.” Harry smiled, “let’s just not put any pressure on it, okay? No expectations or anything. We’ll just get to know each other and see where the night takes us.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the sound of him calling you ‘love’ even more.

“Okay,” you nodded, “I like the idea of that.”

“Good.” Harry raised his wine glass in a toast and you couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerised by the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass. Shaking yourself out of it, you raised yours as well. “To us.” He offered.

“To us.”

The date with Harry went far better than you ever could’ve expected. He was sweet and charming and all the things that drew you to him via text were even better in person. You two had far more in common than you realised and even the things you didn’t only added so much interest to the conversation. He made you laugh harder than you had for months and was the perfect gentleman all night.

You two didn’t sleep together, not that you went into this date wanting to sleep with him anyway because you weren’t really sure what to expect, but you came out of it hoping he’d offer to walk you up to your hotel door and maybe continue walking you right to your bed. Harry didn’t do that of course and instead offered you a kiss on your cheek and an invitation for dinner again next week, but that only made you want him more.

Leading up to the date was so overstimulating and so much all at once that you decided to book a room at the hotel in the same complex as your dinner (which he so kindly paid for), just so you’d have time in a clean environment to process your thoughts afterwards.

Carson was out with his girlfriend April tonight, as that’s what she was to him now, so he wouldn’t be home anyway. But you didn’t want to be getting ready in your own room near the bed you and your husband shared, only to return to it after a date that could’ve been terrible. You wanted something just for you so no matter the outcome and no matter how you felt about it, you had somewhere free from any memories relating to your marriage.

When Harry offered the second date, you told him you’d think about it. He understood, took it like a great guy (the bare minimum, yes, but you were also expecting him to be too good to be true) then waited until you were in the closing doors of the elevator to say goodnight. It didn’t take long after you were clean and in the comfort of a fresh Carson-free bed that you texted Harry to let him know how much you enjoyed the date and that you would like to join him for dinner next week.

He was nice and handsome and you had a really good time with him. The thought of seeing him again made you giddy and you wanted to hang onto that feeling.

Harry: I’m glad it didn’t take you too long to think about it. I had a wonderful night. X

You were practically giggling as you read the text, feeling like a little girl dating a cute guy she liked for the very first time. It was exhilarating. Only one date in and you already understood the appeal Carson was talking about, as much as you wanted to disagree with him.

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

“So what did you get up to last night?” Carson asked, “you have a nice night away?”

“I went on a date, actually.” Your back was facing towards him as you unpacked your overnight bag. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the surprise radiating off him.

“Oh, really? With who?” Carson walked around until he was in your eyeline. He was trying not to act surprised, but you could see it even better with him in front of you that he was. His tone didn’t come off judgemental though and if it did you’d have a few things you could throw back at him. He couldn’t really say anything when you had remained silent on all his flings and relationships.

“His name’s Harry. I met him on tinder.” You shrugged, being honest but trying not to appear too excited about the whole thing. Carson didn’t need to know you thought about Harry before you went to sleep, or that you spent a good half an hour on the phone with your friends squealing about your date with him.

“That’s great.” Carson’s reply seemed genuine and he held that kind smile that you fell in love with. “How was it? Did he treat you right?”

“It was really good, actually,” you paused your unpacking and looked at your husband, seeing the kindness in his eyes as he listened attentively to what you were saying. You wished he’d look like that all the time. “He was the perfect gentleman and we’re going on another date next week.”

“He must’ve really liked you then,” he teased.

Carson was just joking and being quite civil about the entire thing, but you still felt that churning in your stomach. It would never feel normal talking about a date with someone else, even if it was your date instead of his now.

“I guess so. It was only one date though.”

“Did you sleep together?” Then came the dreaded question.

You both agreed that you had to disclose when you slept with another person and a condom always had to be used. No details had to be shared and it was preferred that there weren’t any, but for your own health and safety, you had to share it with each other. It only really mattered when you two were having sex with each other, which, with work and Carson’s busy schedule with other people, only happened once a month if that on your scheduled weekend together.

Opening the marriage seemed to completely eradicate that part of your relationship and while you were unsatisfied, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to try and change that. Not with Carson at least.

“No. You know I’d tell you if we did.” You didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, not when this conversation was ruining your once-happy mood.

“I know,” Carson replied softly, moving forward to place his hands on your hips. “I love you, you know that. I hope you find some joy in Harry, or whoever. Whatever makes you happy, y/n. That’s all I want for you.”

That felt like the biggest load of shit ever but you chose not to say that.

So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remember when you used to do it and not feel a sense of dread. “I love you too.”

You went on a few dates with Harry. You tried to plan things around when Carson was busy so you wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking about what he was doing and that seemed to do the trick because you hadn’t thought about him once on any of the dates you had with Harry.

Things had progressed to a goodbye kiss then a hello kiss when you decided to be a little brave and greet him with one when he picked you up one Saturday morning. And God Harry just knew how to kiss. Even a peck was delicious. His mouth was so soft and sweet and the way he held your face or your waist while kissing you made your entire body light on fire. The more time you spent with him, the more desperate you were becoming to sleep with him.

But Harry was such a gentleman. You didn’t want anything serious and he knew that and yet he hadn’t made the first move. Kissing you was as far as he got and when things started to get a little heated when you two said goodbye, it would always end far too prematurely for your liking.

In your head, a lot of men just wanted to have sex and most of the time did anything and everything to get there before moving on once their post-nut clarity hit. That’s kind of what you expected from Harry. Someone so good-looking and out of your league could find sex easily so you assumed he’d be eager to sleep with you. That was part of the allure, wasn’t it? To sleep with a married woman? The nasty, scandalous thrill of being with someone that belonged to someone else.

Yet Harry never treated you like that, in fact, he didn’t even bring up your marriage unless you started the conversation. Harry just treated you like someone genuinely interested in getting to know you.

“Can I ask you something?”

It was only your third date. This conversation should’ve come up earlier, maybe even on one of the many text conversations or calls you had, but you were a little caught up in his charm and romance to think about it then and you wanted to see his reaction in person. In the very beginning you weren’t even sure if you’d be seeing him again but now that you were up to date three and he just never brought up the fact that you were married… well you wanted to know why. He knew your marriage was open but you didn’t quite understand why was he okay with it? There had to be a reason, right?

“Of course you can.” He leaned back against the chair and tucked his elbow on the edge of the balcony you two were sitting at. It was a picturesque little cafe overlooking a river and it truly felt like you two were on some romantic holiday. The sun was gorgeous even despite the cold breeze and Harry looked effortlessly handsome.

“Why do you… I don’t know how to put it.” You sat a bit straighter in your chair, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Your wedding ring. You weren’t sure why you still wore it on your dates with Harry, but it was a habit and you were married. “You never bring up Carson or the fact that I’m married and I want to know why…”

“Why I don’t care?” He asked, finishing off your sentence.

“Yeah…” You nodded, “I guess I just don’t get it. You’re a lot younger than me-”

“I’m 27 and it’s only five years.” He corrected, looking quite amused by your comment. Five years was a big gap when he was younger than you, at least you thought so.

“Still.” You pressed, “You’re young and I’m married. I just don’t understand why you’re choosing to go out with me and not someone else. And the fact that you’re okay with my marriage it just… I don’t know.” You looked away for a moment, needing to break free from his eye contact so you weren’t completely swept up in it. “I’m not sure if I’d be the same. I’m not the same and I’m the one who’s married.”

“I’ve been married before…”

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?” Your eyes widened and Harry nearly laughed at how shocked you were.

“I was only 20 at the time and it was stupid to say the least but we were happy and in love and marriage seemed like the answer to all our problems.” He smiled at the memory, tracing his finger around the rim of his water glass as he thought back to that time in his life.

“And it wasn’t?”

“No.” He chuckled, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “Marriage caused more problems than it was worth. Steph and I were broke and both in school. We could barely afford our degrees let alone rent and it just caused so many arguments. Too many arguments. We still loved each other and we made it work but over time… the love faded.” Harry shrugged. This felt like too intense of a conversation for breakfast, but you weren’t really expecting to find out about a marriage.

“Wow…” You breathed. “I’m sorry. Um, how long were you two married?”

“Three years. We were just too young and going through too many changes. In the end, we were more like roommates than husband and wife. Didn’t have sex for the last six months because we were too busy working and emotionally disconnecting from each other.” He looked out to the water, turning back to finish off his point. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that shit happens. Relationships aren’t clear-cut. I can tell you’re not just trying to get some exciting thrill by cheating on your husband so as far as I’m concerned it’s just you and me.” Harry bumped his foot against yours under the table, smirking ever so slightly. “If that changes I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Harry spoke about it in such a respectful way. You imagined it was far messier than he made it out to be, but he didn’t blame Steph or attack her character to make himself the good guy in all of it. It was refreshing and mature. Was it bad that him being married before only made him more attractive?

Maybe it was because you now knew that he understood you.

“That’s a very… refreshing outlook, Harry.”

“Refreshing?” He chuckled, “No. Realistic.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, nudging your foot again. “And to answer your other question, the reason I’m out with you and not ‘somebody else’ is because I like you. I told you that on our very first date and I’ll say it again. I like you. Simple.”

“You act like things are so easy.” You laughed, blushing at his honesty.

“They can be.” He reached for your hand, threading your fingers together before squeezing. “It feels easy with you.”

Yeah… it did.

To make things worse… or better? his admission only made you more insatiable for him. Nothing he said was remotely casual, but it had also been a long time since you were dating. Aside from Carson, only one other man had touched you, so you didn’t really have a good gauge on navigating new beginnings or sex with a new person. You knew how to please a man but all your skills were honed in on one man.

So when Harry offered to host dinner at his house for your next date, your stomach was a mixture of nerves and pure excitement. You hadn’t been there before, but with his invitation to stay the night, you didn’t really care what his place looked like, just that he had a nice clean bed to fuck you on.

You never thought you’d be in this position, but you also never thought you’d be in an open marriage with a man you imagined building a family with. You didn’t see that happening now, but what you did see was you enjoying yourself and getting to explore another man for the first time in years.

Harry wouldn’t have just invited you to spend the night if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. He didn’t fit into the dump-and-run stereotype you created in your head, but he sure as hell wasn’t uninterested in sex. He practically oozed it from his fucking pores.

“Y/n!” Harry beamed, opening the door with a big charming grin. He looked gorgeous and you were taken aback at just how good-looking he was. He told you to dress casually and while he matched the criteria with a pair of jeans and a loose white button-up, he looked anything but casual.

“Hi,” you smiled, stepping inside. You barely made it into the doorway before he grabbed your overnight back from your shoulder, slung it on his and then cupped your face to bring you in for a kiss. You gasped a little into his mouth, humming when you relaxed into it and grabbed onto the sides of his mouth to reciprocate.

It felt so young kissing like this; languid and passionately right in the open doorway of his house where anyone who drove or walked past could see. But you didn’t really care who saw when he was nudging you against the doorway and crowding you with his body. It wasn’t an innocent kiss that’s for sure.

His mouth moved expertly against yours, tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until it was brushing against yours. He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you flush against him until he was consuming every part of you. It was delirious the way he sucked on your tongue and groaned at the taste of your mouth.

If this was setting the tone for the evening, you could barely wait.

“Did you miss me or something?” You joked, breathing heavily as the kiss broke.

He smiled, nodding while running his thumb over your mouth. He dragged his eyes over your body, taking in your nice fitting jeans and top with the most perfect amount of cleavage he could die. You were radiant. “Very much so.”

God.

“Come in, love. It’s cold out.” Harry stepped out of the way properly this time, closing the door behind you while you looked around his entranceway.

��Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Harry walked you straight through to his living area. It was a warm, inviting home with soft lighting and lots of texture. He had a musical influence throughout but in the most tasteful way ever. Posters, vinyls and a gorgeous record player front and centre in his living room. His style was envying and you wished Carson would let you do even half the things Harry had done to his house.

You could see yourself being very comfortable here.

“Your house is gorgeous, Harry.” You complimented, looking around the space in awe.

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date.

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this.

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating.

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man.

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt.

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day.

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is.

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you?

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts.

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to.

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table.

“They are.” You defended.

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face.

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else.

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him.

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?”

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon.

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you.

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones.

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic.

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up.

“What?” You chuckled.

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.”

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently.

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy.

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe.

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck.

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now.

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap.

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again.

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands.

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table.

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too.

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans.

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could.

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so.

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face.

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done.

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out.

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it. “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth.

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you.

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.”

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could.

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body.

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it.

“That can be arranged.”

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless.

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear.

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out.

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him.

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit.

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire.

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.”

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth.

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.”

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more.

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous.

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would.

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received.

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth.

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling.

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him.

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours.

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband.

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.”

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you.

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table.

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him.

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately.

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you.

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist.

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy.

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene.

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling?

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again.

Starting with tonight.

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch.

“Yeah”

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek.

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air.

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again.

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved.

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.”

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close.

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way.

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny.

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh.

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick.

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him.

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you.

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him.

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious.

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down.

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards.

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms.

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.”

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom.

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind.

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself.

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue.

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down.

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat.

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.”

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced.

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now.

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?”

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle.

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name.

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.”

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue.

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.”

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum.

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you.

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it.

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever.

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion.

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more.

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over.

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going.

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.”

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

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