#though again I see where it comes from when you consider other continuities

[quibbs126]

I’m thinking maybe we should make another character be Orion and D’s adopted sparkling in TF One AUs. Though to be honest, I don’t know who (still not knowledgeable on Transformers characters)

Don’t get me wrong, I understand why people make it Bee, considering he’s in the movie, and in most other continuities, he’s significantly younger than Megatron and Optimus and is usually given a father-son dynamic with the latter, at least in fanon

But also we’re missing out on the opportunity to make Bee the fun uncle to this hypothetical kid, and I think that’d be cool

[sacredsorceress]

Scars / Logan Howlett

pairing: dofp!logan howlett x mutant!reader summary: every person has a soulmate. after settling in the future that he saved, logan starts to consider his next mission when a suspicious mark appears on him. word count: 3.2k a/n: good ol'fashioned soulmate AU. this is the first actual fic i've written in a long time so please have some grace. reblogs and replies are super appreciated! warnings: general mentions of logan's past, scars, self-doubt, alcoholism, reader smokes a cigar, mentions of razors, scars, wounds, two uses of y/n

logan masterlist | inbox | full masterlist

It had been a week since Logan woke up in his healed timeline.

For most people, the change would have been dramatic. But Logan was far unlike most people. The initial dreamlike state he was in when he first walked through the mansion- seeing the ghosts he had once known returned to the flesh, unscathed- quickly subsided. Logan had always been a man thrown onto a new path- how he lived life constantly changing to best fit his interests. Now, with his newfound peace he found the most complicated mission of all: what to do with the life he was now free to live?

Even before the sentinels, the battles, the wars- he had always been a man on the run. He was solo, strategic, concise. For a man who was gifted with infinite regeneration, he had solely concerned himself with staying alive. He ate for sustenance, sought shelter for safety, and nursed a bottle to find enough peace of mind to sleep at night.

The professor had once told him that for a person to reach self-actualization they first had to have all of their needs met. Logan had scoffed at the time, assuring the professor that he knew himself just fine. But now, with his problems so solved that they had ceased to ever exist, he wondered if maybe the professor was right.

Who was he? Where did he go from here?

The answer was found in the form of a scar on his hand.

"Well, everything seems to be just fine."

Logan scoffed at the blue man in front of him

"Well it's not." Logan said. "Check again."

Two days after he had come back, a large, circular scar had appeared on the palms of each of his hands. When they hadn't disappeared after two minutes, he rushed to the bathroom and nicked himself with his razor, watching as the wound healed with only blood dripping down his scruff as a remanent of it. Thirty minutes after that he found himself in the lab with Hank, Jean, and the Professor hypothesizing his miraculous marks.

"Logan, the tests came back clear." Jean assured him, leaning against the wall. "Maybe it's time to consider that it's something else."

Logan quirked his head towards her.

"I haven't had a scar in over two hundred years," he reminded her, his voice laced with irony. "I get not one, but two and you... what? Think it's a coincidence?"

Before Jean had a chance at rebuttal, the professor moved to face Logan.

"That's not what Jean's inferring, Logan." Charles reminded him. "We're simply asking that you consider other options. Less... dire options. It could, after all, be a good thing."

"Yeah?" Logan scoffed. "Like what?"

A silence hung in the air.

When Logan had first come to them with news of his scar, the thought had been on all three of their minds. Still, there were a plethora of things that could have caused that. Though, when the tests came back clear and his skin continued to heal from all sorts of abrasions, it felt as if there was only one answer for his seemingly magical scars.

However, none of them were keen on sharing this diagnosis with Logan. One wondered whether he'd handle the idea of his body failing him over fated love.

Hank was the first to speak up.

"Like a soulmate."

Oh that was rich, Logan thought.

Logan wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of soulmates.

Around the time that two fated lovers were destined to meet, there would be a sign for each of them. In some cases they were eyes changing colors, feeling the other's pain, finding their names everywhere they looked. In other cases they were new birthmarks, tattoos, scars.

In some way, the two were inextricably connected.

In his long life he had seen others experience it dozens if not hundreds of times. When the first thirty years of his life rolled around with no one, Logan accepted that he was one of the outliers. He considered it for the best and by now, with everything that he had gone through, the concept of soulmates almost seemed like an old wives' tale.

Logan glanced at their faces. When he realized they were serious, a deep laugh escaped from his gut. There was a lack of light in his eyes that admitted his insincerity.

"So I disappear for a few decades and you all start believing in fairytales?" Logan pulled the needles from his arm, the heart rate monitor going flat as he did. "What a bunch of bullshit."

Jean laid her hand against his chest, urging him back into the seat.

"Logan." She soothed him. "This is a good thing. Scott and I-"

Oh this was real rich.

"Scott and you are... what, huh?" Logan urged. "Soulmates?"

Logan scoffed, swiping Jean's hand from his chest.

"Bet you're so happy with your 'soulmate' and that's why you lead me on, huh? That it? You're happy?" He taunted, a dark laugh escaping him once more. "Spare me-"

"Logan, that's enough!"

The professor's voice echoed against the linoleum walls of the lab, reverberating off of the medical equipment throughout.

"If you want to wallow in your own self-deprivation, be my guest, but spare the rest of us your grief." Charles continued. "I think it would be best if you go back to your quarters and consider the future the universe has offered you."

The energy in the air was thick.

Jean and Hank avoided Logan’s eye contact while the professor’s nearly burned a whole through him.

Accepting defeat, Logan threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his metal chair.

“Fine.”

Soulmates. Logan thought. Who would believe in a thing like that?

-

"It's a pleasure to see you again."

The atmosphere in the mansion was a stark contrast to the lab Charles had been in days before.

Now the school day had commenced: children skipping from class to class, students chatting with their friends in the hallway, teachers grabbing coffee between lessons. Amidst the organized chaos, Charles had arranged to meet you in the foyer: the replacement history teacher for Logan's class.

"You too, professor." You smiled, reaching out your hand. "I was so glad to hear from you."

Your hand hung in the air briefly, awaiting his return. Charles examined it for a moment- a twinkle in his eye- before taking it. His thumbs brushed against the newfound scars between your knuckles as he did.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't always have these scars, did you, Y/n?" Charles asked.

You had not.

You had woken with them a few days before. Despite your powers rooted in chaos magic, it wasn't uncommon for blemishes or wounds to etch themselves into your skin. However, you often knew why. These marks, scars, were not faint, but instead quite profound. Three thick, healed over wounds patched together like a stitch on the back of each of your hands.

"No professor."

He closed his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. Though you knew he wished to ask more questions, the moment was broken by Logan.

"Ah, the man himself." Charles beamed. "Logan, I'd like you to meet Y/n. She'll be covering your class."

You had seen your fair share of news stories about the Wolverine. Who hadn't? Though the television had never prepared you for just how tall, or broad he was.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan."

"You too." He nodded, taking your hand.

His hand lingered in yours for a moment. Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just discussing the most peculiar scar on Y/n's hand." Charles said. "Appeared just a few days ago out of nowhere."

Charles nodded his head in the direction of your hand, leading Logan to squint. As if a light bulb had gone off over his head, Logan glanced between Charles and yourself and with your hand still in his, he turned it examine the back.

Three scars between your knuckles. Right where his own claws would be.

Though he liked to imagine himself as the patron of remaining suave, Logan's eyebrows shot up at the recognition. He traced his view from your hands, up your torso, to your face where you eyed him questioningly.

He thought back to the way that he woke up in the seventies, wrapped in the arms of another woman. If times had been different and Logan hadn't undergone all the so-called character development in the last forty years, he was sure that a face like yours would have gotten him in a lot of trouble. You were beautiful, and your demeanor highlighted your strength.

Your face radiated kindness, warmth and most of all, sincerity- a trait that was difficult to come by in a trade such as his.

But then Logan recalled that this wasn't the seventies and you weren't at some bar leading him on the entire night: your hand was in his and, according to everyone else, he was yours.

The idea almost couldn't register in Logan's brain.

"Interesting, isn't it, Logan?" Charles asked, breaking the silence. "Almost identical to where your claws are, hmm?"

Oh the professor thought he was quite funny.

Logan pulled his hand back from your grasp and shook his head.

"Not that easy, Charles." Logan commented before turning to you, a spiteful tone in his voice. "See you around, bub."

Before you had the chance to open your mouth, you watched as Logan stomped down the nearest hallway, his boots squeaking against the floorboards as he did. His fists clenched and released at his sides as he disappeared from view.

His reaction had come so far from left field that if it hadn't given you whiplash, it would have hurt your ego. Instead you turned back to the professor.

"Was it something I said?" You asked.

The professor shook his head, patting your hand gently.

"Logan's quite a complicated man." He assured you. "I'm sure you'll come to know that more than the rest of us. Now, to your classroom..."

Glancing over your shoulder to the void-like hallway that Logan went down, you considered the professor's words.

-

A storm had taken over the mansion by nightfall.

As you padded down the wood panelled hallways, the lightbulbs shook in their glass with each thunder clap- wind swatting at the window panes every few seconds. The pitter patter of the raindrops, although harsh, was comforting. It was almost as if the mansion had been engulfed by the storm, trapping everyone inside, while consequently making the outside world feel a thousand miles away.

When you found Logan's door, tucked in at the end of the hallway, you knocked.

"Yep."

The weight of the door fell against the palm of your hands as you pushed it open.

Logan's room was dark. The only light in the space had been from the embers of the cigar that hung in his mouth, cradled between his thumb and forefinger. Despite the darkness, you could make out his figure sitting at his desk chair by the window, feet kicked up on the sill.

Logan only gave you a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the view.

"What d'you want?"

His voice was thick and rough around the edges.

"I came for your textbooks." You replied, tiptoeing against his floorboards. "The professor said you'd have them."

The hand of his that held the cigar waved around. Minuscule ashes fell to the floor as your eyes remained trained on the light and the faint glow of the moon that illuminated the side of his face.

"Be my guest," he said. "Don’t have a clue where they are."

The professor had given you the lowdown when he saw your scars.

Charles told you that despite everything that you had learned- the history that you had known- the Wolverine you'd meet was not the same person. He was a man from a different time with far different, darker memories and enough baggage to weigh down dozens.

Amidst the silence, you cleared your throat.

"Must be hard to wake up in someone else's life."

By now you had reached his desk, your fingertips tracing the lines in the dark, lacquered wood.

You could smell him and the cigar from this distance- aftershave mixed with smoke.

"The professor tell you that?"

"Mhm."

The chair creaked as Logan flicked his hand towards the window, ushering you to come closer.

Watching your step in the dark, you maneuvered around the furniture and sat beside Logan on his desk- pushing loose papers to the side.

"He give you his whole spiel on soulmates too?" He asked, eyes trained on the rain outside.

Soulmates.

Now that was the last thing you expected to come from the Wolverine's mouth.

You'd heard of them more times than you could count. You once wondered whether every repetitive coincidence was a sign that your person was coming. But, when that never happened, you lost hope.

Who got to tell you who you belonged to anyway?

Leaning over, you gingerly took the cigar from his grasp and replaced it with your own fingers. Sitting back into the desk as lightening struck a tree in the distance, you took a puff.

"So that's what the scars on my hands were all about," You thought aloud.

The window fogged as you let the smoke leave from your mouth in a breathy sigh.

Logan tapped his fingers on his thighs, counting the seconds between a lightening strike and its consecutive rumble of thunder.

"Listen, I'm no prince charming if that's what you came here looking for."

Logan's chair creaked again as he leaned back in his seat. His arm draped against the desk as he met your gaze.

You chuckled and held out his cigar, offering it back to him.

"I came here looking for textbooks." You laughed. "You're the one who keeps talking about soulmates. I think you're more of a romantic than you let on.”

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cigar back into his own hand. Another lightning strike met the ground in the distance, a clap of thunder following moments afterwards.

"You don't buy it?" Logan quirked his eyebrow. It was a teasing question, one he was curious to hear your answer to.

You shrugged.

"I don't think the universe gets to tell me who to love," you said. "If I fall in love with you it's because I love you, Logan. Not because some mark told me to. I just think of it as... a little shove in the right direction.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile for the first time.

"A shove?"

"Like a... blind date." You finished. "Ever been on one of those?"

A congested laugh escaped him.

"Sweetheart, do I look like the type of guy to go on a blind date?"

You bit the inside of your cheek at the name.

Rolling your eyes, you swatted at his arm. You wouldn't admit how much it hurt your knuckles to do so. You'd have to make a mental note to remember his adamantium skeleton.

"Gosh, you're cocky!"

Logan shrugged, "You're the one who likes it apparently."

You felt yourself grow hot at his accusation.

Even though he had a mark signalling his future affection for you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by Logan's knowledge of yours. You felt like a child who's crush had just been exposed to the whole class. Was he noting ever glance that you gave him? The way you didn't move when his arm brushed against yours?

A brief pause hung in the air until another thunder clap reverberated against the walls.

"So what's your mark?" You asked.

Logan shoved the cigar into the corner of his mouth. The biting motion forced him to flex his jaw in a way that you would refuse to admit made you start to realize that maybe the universe was right.

And that maybe his cockiness was justified.

He laid out his hands for you. The room was still dark, making the ability to discern the details of his scar impossible. Taking Logan's hands in yours, you summoned your magic into your hands, watching as they glowed gold.

Logan had two large, circular scars imprinted into his palms. It was a clear indicator of your own magical power that surged from your hands.

It left a feeling you couldn't describe in your chest to know that someone else was marked for you. They were destined for you. To be with you. You had a future written together before the two of you had met. Even if he rejected you, there was a sign etched into his skin that bound the two of you together in some fateful way.

Gently, you traced your fingertips against the mark, feeling the warmth that radiated from his palms.

When your eyes flicked upwards, you noticed how close the two of you were now sitting. You could feel his warm breath against your lips as the lingering smell of the cigar drifted up your nose.

Although he wouldn’t admit it, Logan was enchanted by the energy radiating from you. Whether people hated or loved him, his ability got a lot of talk. In his mind though, he would never be a hero. He was just some guy who got lucky.

You, though? He didn’t need you to tell him that you were an Omega level mutant. Logan had heard about you from the professor: you could cast spells, read minds, reconfigure reality- to name a few. You didn't need a reason to fight for what's right, you just did. Again, and again, and again. Even here, now, you were picking up Logan's history class when he knew very well you could be on the other side of the world sipping pina coladas if you wanted.

What the hell was the universe thinking putting you with him?

Logan admired the reflection of the magic on your cheeks and the way your eyes stayed trained on his palms. Your touch was so gentle he could have sworn he was in a distant dream until your eyes met his.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, gaze locked.

Then another clap of thunder shook the mansion.

You quickly leaned back, pulling your hands from Logan's touch.

"I should... I should go." You said, pushing yourself off of Logan's desk. "It's getting late and I have my first class in the morning."

Logan leaned back in his seat. He said nothing but eyes remained fixed on your form as you made your way towards the door.

Looking back at him with your hand on the knob you made a mental note to remember the image of him with his feet kicked back on the window as he smoked his cigar.

A soft smile remained.

"Good night, Logan."

When you didn't leave immediately, he nodded.

"Night, sweetheart."

Mustering up the courage to shoot him one last smile, you pulled open the door and stepped outside.

Now, Logan didn't know how much he believed in soulmates, but he could be inclined to consider that it was one good wingman.

Leaning back in his seat, Logan sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drown out his worries with the sound of the rain.

a/n: my inbox is open for more requests! thank you for the request @welcometochilis585

[lani-heart]

ATEEZ -> HOW'D THEY GIVE ORAL?

|| lani-heart's ultimate masterlist || MDNI ||

genre(s) -> reaction, smut, anonymous request <3 paring(s) -> ( separately ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> pure smut... like all of it is smut. MDNI

-> KIM HONGJOONG 

Out of all of the members, Hongjoong is who I’d consider the biggest tease and menace. He’d mock you and overstimulate you, probably thinking of this as punishment if you act out. If you couldn’t handle cumming for the fifth time alone with him just eating you out he’d pout and also fake sympathize with you. He’d talk you through it and keep on making you cum even after your squirt. You already made a mess anyway so why should he stop? He isn’t the type to get off of your pleasure to worship you but does it more for entertainment to see you whine and squirm because of him. A huge sadist getting off on how you can’t take it anymore. Maybe even with a slight dumbification kink in there where you’d cum so many times that you can’t even think straight. Would doubt he’d even stop if you passed out ( he’d be worried and make sure you’re okay before going back at it ) and still tease you when you wake up. 

“I can’t believe how big of a mess you’ve made… who’s gonna clean it up?” he would say and go back to eating you out saying he was simply cleaning the mess and you were making the mess bigger.  “How is that my fault?” 

-> PARK SEONGHWA 

Arguably the best at oral. Also, the second biggest pussy whipped member here. I think he is one of the members who’d get off of your pleasure and want to hear you cum over and over again. He could skip the whole part of his pleasure and purely be satisfied with making you cum on his tongue alone. Not much of a talker like Hongjoong but instead is pussy whipped where nothing can pull him away from you. Stuck like this for hours or an eternity if he could. Even if you move to close your thighs while he’s still overstimulating you, he’d only chuckle. He wasn’t close to finishing… this was where he’d stay because this wasn’t just about pleasuring you but also his own pleasure. It was as if he was starving or thirsty and hadn't had water for days. 

“Let me have one more, just one more time” he’d beg after you tried to pull him away too overestimated to continue further. Though one more… turned into two then three, etc.  “Promise this is the last one” 

-> JUNG YUNHO  

I don’t see Yunho as the type who’d do oral often and would probably only do it as foreplay. Using his fingers more than anything and… we know why. When he would it would be a mix of foreplay and fingering. He isn’t a menace or as mean as other members but if you were to act out I see him more like being a jerk where he’d make you beg for him to pleasure you. He’d use oral as a way to tease you before finally giving in to what you want as well as adding fingers into the hither movement to try to make you cum or even squirt. I don’t see him doing it often for a long time but would do it briefly as foreplay. 

“Why should I?” he’d tease to get you to beg before you were a whiny mess and laugh and smirk at your expression before kissing your clit.  “Okay okay… we’ll do what you want for now”

-> KANG YEOSANG 

This man is scheming… I can see him one day scrolling on Tiktok and finding that one trend of feeding your partner pineapple the whole day. He’d go to the store and buy a bunch of pre-cut pineapple and throughout the day when you’re busy, he’d feed you one until you either notice or you’ve finished the pineapple he bought. Once you finish it he’d have to try to get you into the mood where he’d decide today was an experiment so he’d worship you and tell you later. Though… if it did change something he’d become addicted. Probably would be stuck there for a while even after you come until it's too much after each time he makes you cum. He’d just praise you and how you taste that he wouldn't be able to stop. He’d probably also decide not to tell you about what he did anymore and implement pineapple in your permanent diet. 

“You taste so good… just enjoy it” he’d say completely pussy drunk moaning into you making the pleasure even more unbearable while he wouldn’t even stop to breathe.  “I don’t think I can get enough of you”

-> CHOI SAN 

The manhandler… he would ask you to also sit on his face. He’s been working out a lot, after all, he could take it. If you were nervous about it he’d just pick you up from your thighs and lay down not letting you go. He wouldn’t even mind, he wants you to put your entire weight. However, I could see him as more of a giver than a receiver even if you offered to help him off when you're on top of him he’d deny it and whine and groan if you moved. Only tightening his grip on your thighs that you’d get bruises. I don’t think it helps that this whole era he’s been a cowboy, he probably also teased you that if you have the cowboy’s hat you’ll need to be able to ride him in return. He could do it for hours until he has no more self-restraint and you have enough pretty red hickies and even the yellow bruises that’ll turn purple tomorrow. 

“I wanna show you why I’ve been to the gym” he’d say only encouraging you to sit on him and when you did his tongue would explore everywhere it could... barely even taking breaths in between.  “Don’t be shy, princess” 

-> SONG MINGI 

I also don’t see him as someone to do oral often, probably more of a greedy lover for his own pleasure though I think he would like your reactions. Teasing you with pussy slaps in between him sucking your clit and edging you until you cry literal tears. He’d probably do it for his own entertainment rather than your own pleasure and would just tease you to later give you a bigger orgasm. He would also probably leave marks and would only stop once you’ve squirted. If you do come after all the edging he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself and want to feel himself around you. Everything for him is just to see how you squirm and cum because of him. 

“You were about to cum? I’m sorry love” he’d say teasing you and you would be able to hear his disingenuous tone. He’d go back to teasing making you cry.  “Why are you crying? Do you want me to stop?” 

-> JUNG WOOYOUNG 

Pussy Drunk. Gets off on your pleasure and will cum in his pants because of it. After a long day of choreo just to relax and get off he’ll trap you on the couch and piss your clit through your clothes until you finally agree and get rid of your sleeping bottoms. He’d probably make you keep your panties on. Tasting you through your underwear teasing and restraining himself until he couldn’t handle it and needed to taste you from the source. Would lose track of time that he’d probably get off by humping the couch or a pillow while hearing your moans and eating you out. I think he probably wouldn’t hear you if you started to whine out that it was too much and be so lost in your pleasure that you’d have to pull him away. 

“Mmhmm… please I need one more” he’d beg and cry just to continue tasting you and of course how could you ever deny a tired and pouty Woo.  “I just wanna feel and taste you some more”

-> CHOI JONGHO 

He’d definitely use oral against you. Maybe the meanest member when it comes to punishment. He would tie you up, give you what you want until you beg to cum when he’ll stop and leave you in the room for in theory a few seconds but for you feels like forever wanting to cum so badly and wanting him to come back until you finally apologize for being a brat, begging for him to come back. He would tease you until you finally beg him to finish you off, he’d really only use oral during punishments or special occasions or… when he felt that you learned your lesson and should be rewarded. 

“You’re sorry, right? I think we should reward good behavior” he’d tease seeing your pouty and tear-stained face before aiming to make you come. But when you do… it was really intense and– “You can give me a few more right? To make it up to me?”

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[riki-dazed]

Best friends can kiss, right? -- PART 1

3:00 AM -- Finding Hope · part 2 · fluff · wc: 792

"I'm so tired," You sigh, watching Riki search for another song on the computer that he's currently sat in front of.

The both of you had spent the last couple of hours together in his personal studio, turning the tight space into a full blown karaoke room. All that you hoped for tonight was that no one would come knocking at the door, considering that Riki already had to sneak you into the company building.

Your body falls backwards against your sofa, yes, your sofa. The tiny, barely-seats-two one that Riki had cramped into the corner of his studio, just so you'd have somewhere to sit, or sleep on, when you'd visit him. You loved that about your best friend the most, his overly thoughtful and sweet nature. To Riki, your comfort and happiness has always been at the top of his priorities list.

Your gaze stays on Riki as you watch him scroll through one of his spotify playlists, your head resting on your arms in which are slumped over an armrest. Eliciting a hum of approval, he finally decides on a song after a few moments. The slow, soft melody that engulfs the space causes your eyes to flutter closed. It was a familiar sound, one of your favorites. You hear your best friend humming along to the tune, the sound of his soft tone further pushing you into a sleepy trace. It's about time the both of you finally took a second to calm down, to breathe.

Baby, it's three AM, had you on my mind...

"Here," A deep voice cuts you out of your trance, you blink your eyes open, "Lean on me, it's comfier,"

You glance over your shoulder towards the direction where the voice was coming from, suddenly finding Riki's body sat beside yours on the little sofa. You give him a small smile as you pick yourself up and off the uncomfortable armrest, you nuzzle yourself into his side. His body's warm, the fabric of his hoodie soft against the skin on your face.

He smells good, too.

"We should probably go home soon," You murmur against him, your eyes closing shut yet again. Who knows what the time must be, though, you're too comfortable and cozy to even care about it at the moment.

"Later," The boy beside you replies, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand snakes its way around to the side of your waist. He pulls you into him.

You nestle closer into Riki, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, and the comfort of his presence. Every other irrelevant thought within your mind fades away as you focus on the soft music playing through the speakers. The feeling of contentment envelops the both of you.

Cause baby, if I find a way, I'm sure of it, this love won't stray...

"..just give me a chance to say I love you, and I need you, now are you here to stay," Riki sings along quietly, his deep voice is as soft and as smooth as a cloud.

Despite the late hour, you have nowhere else that you would rather be than right here.

Wanting you more and more, I can't help but think of what we could be...

Without a single thought behind your actions, the lyrics suddenly cause you to lift your head off him. As you meet Riki's gaze, you find yourself getting lost within his sharp eyes, seeing a reflection of the emotions swirling within your own chest. Neither of you exchange a single word, yet a silent understanding engulfs the space between the both of your bodies, a mutual recognition of something unspoken, yet deeply felt. You feel the weight of the lyrics echoe within your mind, and stomach, in the form of a hundred butterflies.

As you continue to scan your best friend's face, you see a vulnerability in his expression. It's as if he's laying bare his soul before you, offering you a glimpse into his unspoken feelings.

"This feels dangerously intimate," You murmur out of the blue, the sudden seriousness had caused you to almost start feeling awkward. You and Riki were barely ever a serious pair when together, you needed to lighten the mood somehow..

Riki can't help but shake his head over your sudden remark, he lets a chuckle escape his lips. You smile at his heartwarming reaction, yet you can't shake the feeling that had just engulfed you moments prior.

You can't help but realize that perhaps the both of you had been dancing around the edges of something more profound than mere friendship.

"Best friends can kiss, right?"

Your eyes grow wide as Riki catches you completely off guard with his sudden question, your smile drops off your face.

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 8: Mommy

Mommy Sakura, I think she's a bit too hungry. Anyway, enjoy!

Length: 2.2K

Sakura X Mreader

You sweat as you carry the last box from your car to your apartment,  your muscles aching after over an hour of moving boxes up from the ground floor. Reaching your floor for the last time, you jiggle the door open and step in. You stretch your arms up to the sky after setting the last box down. You look around your new apartment, finally on your own. You consider where to start unpacking when there’s a knock on your door. You turn around to see a beautiful woman standing in your doorway. She gives you a small wave and stretches her arm out, offering you a water bottle, “Welcome to the neighborhood; I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Sakura; I live right next door, actually.” 

You take the water, “It’s nice to meet you, Sakura.” You take a swig of water, “I’ll try not to bother you; I’ll be up late at night pretty often.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” 

“I’m a student at the nearby college; I’ll be studying a lot and busy with a lot of other things.”

“Ohh, a college student,” Sakura repeats, a grin forming. “I’ve heard that you guys get busy; maybe I’ll come by and help you…like a mom away from home,” She says with a laugh. 

“Mmm,” you hum, “Yeah, well, if I ever need anything, I’ll come to you.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you around,” Sakura says, leaving you alone in your apartment. You take another sip of water before beginning the unpacking process. You work around the clock putting away clothes and arranging your space when it becomes evening. There was another knock on the door, and you head over. Checking through the peephole, you see Sakura holding a covered plate. She reaches up, ready to knock again when you open the door. “Hi again; I thought I'd bring you over some food. You haven’t eaten yet, right?” Sakura pushes the plate forward; I made a little too much and thought you’d like some. It’s curry.”

“Oh, thanks, Sakura. I was getting kind of hungry. Would you like to come inside?”

“I’d love to.” Sakura hands you the plate and steps inside your home, looking around to see how you’ve decorated it.

“It’s not much yet, but it’ll get there in time, " you say, grabbing a spoon from the kitchen before sitting in the living room. You uncover the curry; it's still warm, with condensation covering the foil she used to cover it. You take a spoonful and start eating as Sakura sits beside you.

“It’s nice, though; I’m sure your girlfriend will like it. Or she can decorate a little.”

“Ah, well, that’s a nice thought but…I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sakura feigns shock, “Uhm, I’m sorry. I just assumed that you would. I mean, you’re cute, so I just thought.” Sakura stumbles through her words. Internally, though, she’s praising God; it would make things so much easier for her. 

You wave her off, “It’s okay, maybe someday I’ll get one,” you say in jest. You take another bite of the food, “You make a really good curry, though,” you say, awkwardly changing the subject. 

Sakura smiles, “I can cook for you sometimes.” She pats her lap, excited at the prospect of getting closer to you, “I don’t really have anyone around either, so it wouldn’t be a problem. It could be here or at my place.” The two of you continue talking as you eat; while you’re speaking, Sakura's thoughts become less than pure. She manages to hold herself together as your conversation reaches its natural end and you finish eating. “It was nice talking; I’ll see you soon.” She says, taking the plate from you just as you finish. “I’ll be going now,” She bows and leaves the apartment quickly. You’re left a little confused because of how quickly she decided to leave, but you put it in the back of your mind as you get ready to shower and then sleep.

In her home, Sakura rushes to her bedroom and throws herself onto her bed. She slips her fingers underneath her jeans and moves her fingers around her clit, moaning as she imagines what you must be like in bed. Sakura just loved younger men, and you were the perfect fit for her. She imagined your hands on her body, groping her, and it drove her crazy.

Over the next few weeks, as your classes began and you found yourself busier and busier with work, Sakura wormed her way into your routine, bringing you food, doing your laundry, and occasionally cleaning up around your apartment. Sakura even began referring to herself as your mommy, teasing you as she did all the work around your apartment. She did it to help you, but she was also getting something out of it. She would smell your clothing before washing it, your scent fueling her desires. She thought to herself about how to bring up the topic of taking things further. You appreciate her help and buy her a small gift as a thank you. You wrap it nicely and hold onto it until Sakura comes by again. 

Sakura came by the next day; she greeted you warmly and put on an apron as she prepared to cook you something. “Hey, Sakura. I got you something to say thanks.” 

“Huh? You didn’t have to. I just wanted to help you. You’ve been so busy with college that I thought an older woman like me should help you.” Sakura protests, waving her hands.  

“It’s something small. Here,” you place a small box on the counter. 

“You really didn’t have to.” At that moment, the idea popped into Sakura’s head; this was her opportunity to push things further. She unties her apron, placing it on the counter next to your gift. “There’s actually something else I’d like.”

“What is it?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone. So…I’d like it if you’d…” Sakura considered what word to use, one that was more reserved or one that she felt best described her desires. “I want you to fuck me,” She says plainly. Sakura inches closer to you, grabbing your hands and placing them around her waist before wrapping her arms around your neck. “I’ve played the role of your mommy by helping you around here. Now I’d like you to return the favor and help mommy cum.” Sakura said in a low, sultry voice, unlike any you’ve ever heard from her. “Please?” She asks, tilting her head to the side.

You had to admit that you hadn’t expected this sort of situation, but you didn’t mind getting this kind of attention from Sakura. She was a beautiful woman, after all. “Alright, if that’s all you want.”

Sakura smiles, “It is; Mommy will show you how good she can take it.” You move your hands down to Sakura’s thighs and lift her, taking her to your bedroom. You toss her on the bed, and she quickly strips off her clothing, her craving for you hitting an all-time high now that she is so close to getting you. You strip off your clothing and crawl over Sakura, who quickly rolls you onto your back.

Sakura straddles you, rubbing your cock against her wet slit. “Mmm, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” She leans over, kissing your cheek. “Now, fuck mommy as hard as you can. Make me cum, and don’t stop until I say so.” She aligns your cock with her entrance and pushes you inside. Sakura groans as she feels you stretch her cunt. “Oh, you’re so big,” she grunts, adjusting herself. She places her hands on your thighs and leans back as she begins to move. Your cock slides in and out of her with ease. You enjoy the feeling of her walls clamping down on your cock for a moment, letting Sakura do all the work before grabbing onto her waist. You slam yourself into the deepest part of her cunt, knocking against her womb. “That’s it, baby, fuck mommy,” She moans, feeling you deep inside her. You hold her as you begin thrusting, ramming yourself inside her tight cunt. Sakura leans back, her moans filling the room, and she smiles with pure glee. She was happy to have you finally; she focused on the feeling of your cock stirring her inside. The pleasure was making her lose her mind. You had just started, but you were already pushing her to her climax. 

Sakura’s walls only got tighter as you went on. You wanted more of her. Rolling her onto her back, you push her legs to her ears and drive your cock deeper into her. Sakura groans, her toes curl as she reaches her climax. Her walls clamp down on your cock, and she cums. Her nectar splashes onto her stomach and chest as you continue to thrust. “Baby, keep going!” She cries out, gripping the bedsheets so hard her knuckles are turning white. You steal a kiss from Sakura as you continue to ruin her, driving her crazy as the pleasure continues to crash over her. She can feel herself slipping away as your cock reshapes her cunt. You sucked on Sakura’s tongue after she stuck out unconsciously. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as you pushed her to another orgasm. Her cries of pleasure flowed endlessly as you pounded away at her body.

“I’m cumming, mommy.” You grunt, struggling to keep your pace now that your body is on edge. 

“Inside!” Sakura shouts, her arms reaching out as she tries to hold you. You bury yourself inside Sakura, flooding her pussy with your cum. A euphoric smile is plastered on her face as your warm cum invades her body, heating her from the inside. You gain your bearings and drag your cock out Sakura, letting her legs fall down. Cum leaks out of her as she remains on the bed. 

She slowly rolls onto her back and raises her ass into the air. “Keep going, baby; I want more. Please fuck your dirty mommy more,” Semen drips from her cunt as Sakura presses her face against a pillow, waiting for you to take her again. 

You grasp your cock and press it against her entrance. You slip in easily, returning to her snug cunt. You grip her ass, the soft cheeks melting into your hands as you bury yourself inside her. Sakura moaned into the pillow as she felt your cock fill her again. She was thanking God she met you with every thrust. You enjoyed the sight, watching Sakura's ass bounce on your cock. You reach back and slap the jiggling meat. She yelps and begs for more. “Spank me, baby, make me yours.” She moans. You continue to punish her ass, leaving your hand imprinted on her skin as you drive her further into the mattress. You push her face into the pillow as you angle her better. Sakura's brain stops working as she cums a third time; her body shuts down and is only held up by you as you continue driving your cock into her womb. Your climax approaches slowly, but you reach the peak once more and fill Sakura’s cunt with another load of cum. You keep yourself inside Sakura and bring her down with you, using her as a cockwarmer.

When morning comes, you find Sakura between your legs, her tongue caressing the sides of your shaft. “Good morning, baby.” She says as she pulls away, her hand strokes your cock gently, “I thought it would be nice to wake up to mommy give you a nice blowjob. Does that sound good?” 

“That sounds good,” you coo as she rubs the tip with her thumb. 

“Great, let me finish.” Sakura presses her soft lips on the tip and slowly pushes you in. Her tongue swirls around the tip before running along the underside as she bobs her head. She moans softly, your musk flooding her nose and making her hungry for more. She allowed you into her throat, relaxing her muscles around you as she reached your pelvis.  Sakura pulls back slowly, letting you enjoy the pleasure. She strokes your shaft as she focuses on the head, running her tongue around the head.  “You can cum whenever your want, baby. Mommy will drink it all.” Sakura was sure of that. She wouldn’t waste a drop. She latched onto your cock, working her tongue all over it until you came into her mouth. As soon as the first drop hit her tongue, she was in love. She swallowed every drop, drinking your cum as it came. 

Once you were done, she popped you out of her mouth and let you look inside. Her mouth was empty, and she was proud of it. Sakura kept her hand on your cock, stroking it gently. “Listen, baby, while you’re here for college, I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning. You don’t have to pay me; all you have to do is fuck me like you did last night. It’s all I want. Mommy will be here for you to use whenever you want, too.”

“You have a deal, mommy.” You groan as she jerks you off. “And I want you right now,” Sakura smirked, happy you’re taking advantage of the last part already.

[ovaryacted]

JAGGED EDGE

─ QZ Joel Miller x f! reader || WC: 900

CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Age gap implied. Possible dub-con. Rough sex. Degradation. Dom! Joel. Dom/sub elements. Hair pulling. Daddy kink. Joel is a meanie & a big scary man. Ambiguous/toxic relationship.

A/N: This is literally something I wrote and typed out based off of this singular picture that was shown to me. I had to do this, for the people! Proofread by moi.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

Joel was pissed.

Coming back to the QZ with less supplies than he’d like had him on edge, a shit deal led to two less bullets in the magazine of his gun. A waste of his time, a waste of his energy and whatever fucking else he managed to have left in this dying world.

The parasitic things around him continue to take, and take, and take until he’s a dog fighting for scraps again. He’s already worked for the current rations he has, bribed or killed for the rest, did whatever he had to do just to get by and ignore the stench of rotting bodies he has to dig up and burn. He’s already dealing with enough, he doesn’t need to lose any more of what he had.

At least he had you.

Steady. Solid. Real. The only constant in his world, something so tucked away from other people's grasp they couldn’t tell the difference between their Joel and your Joel. He holds you at arm’s length, just close enough to let you touch him, but far enough to consider you an outsider, another survivor amongst the rest of the poor unfortunate souls that seek purpose with death creeping around every corner.

Though the moments where he grants you closeness, you don’t take it for granted.

Pliant. Malleable. All for him to have and to hold. You’ve come to learn that Joel was a naturally rough man, all of him was. You can’t blame him, he was a product of the losses that haunts him in his nightmares, slowly chipping away at his wavering humanity one death at a time. A predator with razor sharp teeth containing a bite full of jagged edges. You just happened to fit the role of his prey, a lamb that has ventured too far from the herd, ensnared in his grip with no way out. Not that you’d ever want to leave.

His molars grind in his mouth as he growls from behind you, the pistoning of his hips filling the dingy apartment with an audible slap of skin. Large hands kept you pinned by the neck underneath him against the tattered mattress, your nails digging into the comforter as Joel pummeled into the arch of your back. Every brutal thrust he gave you sent you inching higher up on the bed, spine curved to keep your ass high in the air, right where he could see you at your best.

The glistening skin of your pussy wrapped tight around him, clutching at his cock every time he slipped out just to punch back into you with a snarl, your body wishing to keep him inside for as long as he allowed. His heavy balls slammed into your pulsing nub with each resounding drill of his hips, amplifying the sensations and sending you closer to your impending release.

Joel fucks without mercy, his touch as ragged as the rest of him. But this was your Joel, and you loved him in any way he came, in any way he’d allow. After all, you weren’t given any other option.

“Joel, please…” your gasp was followed by a moan, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when the tip of his length kissed your cervix with precision. You shrieked as your head was quickly yanked backward, thick digits pulling on the strands of your hair, now wrapped around an iron fist.

“Please what, hm? What does my fucking slut need from me this time?” He bit harshly beside your ear, the tone of his sharp voice forcing your walls to clench around him.

“I need to cum,” you cried out meekly, his unforgiving pace had your eyes fluttering, wishing you could look at Joel at this angle, but he wouldn’t let you get more than what he decided was enough. He tugged at your head harder, the pain rushing to your sensitive nub between your thighs, throbbing from his intensity.

“What you need is to take what I give you. You fucking got that?” Joel muttered next to your temple, your heart pounding in your ribcage at his command.

“Yes.” Another forceful jerk to his body made you jolt, deepening the curve of your back.

“Yes what?” The gears in your head began to turn, finding the right words in the back of your mind to avoid pissing him off any further.

“Yes daddy.”

He slams you back down to the mattress with a groan, grabbing hold of your hips and fucking into you with such force you know you’ll be left with an ache in your pelvis afterwards. You know he doesn’t mean to be so aggressive, that’s just who he is, it’s within his nature. You understand him despite others viewing him as anything but human. A man with so much blood on his hands shouldn’t have the ability to make you cry for him, to make your body sing and crave him when he deserves nothing of the sort.

Yet when the textured tips of his fingers reach your slick pearl to circle it with intention, sparks fly under your eyelids and you spill around him with a loud wail of his name, tears stinging the corner of your eyes as you fall apart. You’d consider it an act of kindness on his end, the only time you’d ever think the man, or any man, touched you with such reverence.

He’s rough all around, but perhaps you’ve always liked them that way.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[livinghalfway]

Magic Mirror

Summary: A magic mirror shows what a person desires most in the world. It shows Damian his twin standing next to him. Word Count: 1202

“Come on Damian, all you have to do is stand in front of it.” Dick pleaded with him while gesturing for him to step closer to the magic mirror they had recently obtained from a villain’s lair. 

It was a rather plain mirror as well for being a rare magical item; nothing but a full length mirror with a simple black frame. The only interesting thing about it was that it had the ability to show what a person desired most in life when they stood in front of it. 

Once that little trick was discovered the others had quickly jumped at the chance to stand in front of it. Which was foolish in Damian’s opinion; allowing everyone in the room to view your deepest desire. 

“Tt, I think not Richard; I after all already know what the mirror will show me.There is no point in me standing in front of it.” 

Before Dick can continue his beseeching his case though Jason cuts in from across the room; next to the mirror. “Oh yeah? What do you think would show up, Demon brat; you dressed up as Batman?” 

“He wishes,” Tim snickers next to Jason, “It’s probably gonna be something embarrassing and that’s why he doesn’t want to do it.” 

"Drake, if you know what's good for you you'll stop talking!"

Tim gives Jason a nudge with his elbow before loudly whispering, "That sounds like a conformation if I've ever heard one." 

"Tt, how dare-" Damian is quickly cut off from his incoming tirade by Dick jumping back into the conversation.

"Okay! Let's not start arguing with one another." Dick says to all of them before directing his focus towards him, "Damian, if you really don't want to try out the mirror you don't have too. No one is going to force you to." 

Damian merely rolls his eyes as he walks towards the mirror. The only reason he does so is because being Robin is what he desires the most; he knows it. Looking into the mirror will merely be about proving Drake and Todd wrong. "I'll do it Richard if only to shut these two imbeciles up." 

The moment he stood in front of the mirror waiting for the magic to change the reflection Damian knew that he shouldn't have let Tim and Jason get to him. He had done something foolish and there was no going back now as the mirror swirls with a gold shimmer. 

When the distorted image clears once more Damian swears he feels his heart stop. The reflection shown is not one a million years could have prepared him for. It is not him standing at his father's side, Batman and Robin, as he thought it would have been. 

Instead it shows Damian exactly as he is at the moment. He would almost think the mirror didn't change anything if it weren't for the boy in the mirror standing next to him. Even after all these years it was someone he would never be able to forget. 

His twin brother, Danyal, and him standing side by side once more. While Damian stands rigid and shocked, Danyal's posture is relaxed. He's even smiling as he leaning towards him until their shoulders touch in the reflection.

He doesn't feel it though; he wants to feel it. 

All of a sudden it hits Damian that this is what he desires the most out of everything in the world. The only thing he wants is for his brother to be alive and with him at the manor. With the family Danyal not got the chance to know; the family that doesn't even know he exists. 

In the blink of an eye the magical gold swirls take over the mirror once more, and when it clears it is once again just himself looking back at him. 

After what must be an eternity of staring at the mirror Damian realizes that everything around him is too quiet. He snaps his head to the side where his brothers are, and sees the three of them staring back at him. All of them are in varying degrees of shock and curiosity at what they had just seen. 

He considers lying at first. Saying that he had no idea who the boy was. He can't find it in himself to do that though. Damian had kept his brother a secret long enough; maybe it would be good for the others to know. "That Richard was my twin brother; Danyal." 

With those words Damian practically collapses on the nearest chair; feeling drained and exhausted. The others follow suit as they too take seats next to him. 

"Danyal … Danyal was kind. He understood people much more than I ever will." He takes a deep breath, "He was smart and curious. Always asking questions and wanting to understand everything around him. It was always the stars that fascinated him the most."

"Sounds like a good kid," Jason starts, "must have gotten all the friendly genes in the womb."

"For once I think I agree with you, Todd." 

The silence that follows is thick and suffocating. It is luckily broken after a few seconds by Tim's hesitant question, "What happened to him?"

That was the big question wasn't it? What happened to Danyal; to the twin and brother that wasn't with him when he arrived at the manor?

"Danyal … died a couple years before I came here. The two of us were attacked by a group of rogue assassins after our study lessons." Damian swallows, his throat feels tight, "I wasn't as focused as I should have been, and Danyal ended up taking a fetal hit meant for me."

"Damian-" 

"Let me finish, Richard." He snaps. He doesn't think he would be able to finish if otherwise interrupted. "Danyal was dead by the time he was finally brought to the pits. I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work, but I didn't think it would take him completely. His body was never recovered from the pits.I never got to bury my brother." 

It's when his vision starts to blur that Damian realizes that he's crying. Danyal always did have a way of making Damian show emotions that he would rather keep hidden.

He feels himself being pulled into a chest, and for now he doesn't fight against it. Damian's not sure if he honestly could at the moment. 

“Father doesn’t know about this.” Damian continues after a few minutes of silently sobbing in Dick’s arms. 

“He needs to know.” Tim states, “Maybe not today, but soon.” 

“You tell him when you’re ready, short stack. The old man can deal with not being told right away.” Jason reassures him when he doesn’t answer Tim right away. 

"What am I not being told?" Damian feels as if he's been dunked in water when he realizes that his Father had heard the end of their conversation. 

"Father."

"Damian?" Bruce takes in his youngest son's appearance and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's in some kind of emotional distress.Which in of itself is very rare for him to be in.

"Father, please take a seat. There is something I need to tell you." 

[inkedinshadows]

Where You Belong

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: last part of "A Helping Hand". When Y/N realizes Azriel is her mate, it's only a matter of who will admit it first.

Warnings: language if you really squint, Azzie being a little (just a little, I promise) cocky, but honestly who can blame him

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: here it is. Sorry for the long wait. Hope you like it! 💙

A Helping Hand (part 1), Echoes of the Bond (part 2) + Unraveling Truths (bonus)

֍֍֍֍֍

Y/N didn't see anyone until dinner.

She spent the day alone, roaming the family library in the House of Wind, sifting through the books until she found one that piqued her interest. From that moment on, she'd been curled up in one of the cushioned armchairs that dotted the room. Occasionally, thoughts of her last conversation with Azriel interrupted her reading, but she did her best to block them out. She didn't want to think about his mate.

Only when her stomach grumbled did she rise from her comfortable position. Placing the book on the table next to her seat, she left the library and headed toward the dining room.

Indistinct chatter was coming from inside, and she quickened her steps, a smile already on her face as she pushed the door open.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to Azriel, standing in a corner with Cassian and Rhysand. But before she could even consider taking a step in their direction, Feyre appeared in front of her.

“Y/N!” Her friend linked their arms to lead her toward the table. “I was just about to come looking for you. Sit next to me.”

Y/N obliged, and everyone slowly took their seats around the table. Though she noticed Lucien's presence seemed to make everyone a bit wary, the atmosphere was lighter with Feyre back with them. Rhys, who was sitting on his mate's other side, looked particularly relaxed.

As food appeared on the empty plates and conversations started around the table, Feyre turned to face her.

“I'm sorry I didn't greet you properly this morning,” she said. “But my mind was… elsewhere.”

Y/N peered over at Rhysand, who was talking to Lucien and Cassian but seemed to be listening to their conversation.

She looked back at Feyre with a smile. “I know, Fey. Don't worry about it. I'm just happy I have my friend back.”

Feyre returned her smile, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I am too. I was worried about you, you know. How are you adjusting to this life?”

Taking a bite of her food, Y/N used the few seconds to weigh how much to tell Feyre. She wouldn't usually hesitate – not with her, never with her – but maybe a family dinner right after she'd come back to the Night Court wasn't the right moment for this sort of talk.

“I struggled at the beginning,” she said finally, avoiding details for the moment. “But Azriel helped a lot, and I'm doing much better now.”

As if mentioning him was enough to summon his attention, she felt his eyes settle on her from the other end of the table. She met his gaze with a smile, and the corner of his lips twitched upwards in response.

“Azriel?” Feyre's surprised tone brought Y/N's mind back to her friend, and the Shadowsinger refocused on his own conversation. Y/N rubbed a little spot on her chest.

“I'm glad he helped,” Feyre continued. “And that you're doing okay.”

Y/N nodded and took another bite of her food, but her thoughts were already drifting back to the spymaster. Now that they were in the same room again, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and she kept going back to that morning – Azriel’s words about his mate.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Feyre always had a knack for knowing when something was on her mind. Even when Y/N thought she was concealing her thoughts, the youngest Archeron could pick up on them.

“I was just wondering… how does it feel to have a mate?” Y/N asked, her gaze drifting back to Azriel for a moment before returning to Feyre. “I mean, what kind of bond is it?”

Feyre’s expression softened, her eyes settling on Rhysand, warmth shining in them. As if sensing it, the High Lord turned towards her with a smile that spoke volumes about his feelings for her.

“It’s a bond between souls,” Feyre finally answered. “Like an invisible thread binding two people, a tug toward each other. If two mates accept the bond, then they belong together.”

A tug. Y/N had been feeling a tug toward something for a while now. What if it was toward someone instead?

“Honestly, I hope you'll get to experience it one day,” her friend went on. “It's a connection on a new, deeper level. It's always there, even when you're apart.”

“I hope so too,” she murmured, her hand once more massaging her chest.

There was a pause as they both took a sip of their drinks, the conversation still buzzing around the table. Y/N's thoughts wandered back to Azriel, his quiet presence and the comfort he had provided. There was something more there, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

“Have you ever met Azriel's mate?” she said suddenly, breaking the silence between them.

Feyre's brow furrowed in confusion. “He doesn't have a mate.”

Y/N's fork paused halfway to her mouth. “He told me he did,” she said slowly. Something dangerously close to hope stirred in her chest.

Feyre's frown deepened, and she shook her head slightly. “I had no idea.” She cast a glance at the Shadowsinger. “He never mentioned having a mate. I always assumed he didn’t.”

Y/N's heart raced as she processed the new information. Why would Azriel lie about something like that? She glanced down the table at him, her mind racing with questions.

A wisp of shadow curled around his ear, and his eyes slid toward her. He almost imperceptibly raised an eyebrow, but this time she didn’t meet his gaze and looked down instead.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, more to herself than to Feyre. “Why would he tell me that?”

Feyre reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Maybe there's more to it than just that,” she suggested gently. “He’s quite reserved. I’m sure you’ve noticed that too.”

Y/N nodded, her thoughts a whirlwind. She knew Feyre was right. She needed to confront Azriel, to understand why he had lied to her or why he’d told the truth to her only and not to the others.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur, the Inner Circle and Lucien delving into a more serious discussion about war and High Lords, most of which Y/N didn’t really comprehend – even less so when her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Azriel and Feyre's words about the mating bond.

As they finished their meal and began to disperse, Y/N wished everyone goodnight and quickly slipped out of the dining room. She needed to be alone, a moment of quiet to think things through before talking to Azriel.

Because things didn’t really make sense right now.

Either Azriel had lied, or he really did have a mate. But if that was true, why didn’t his friends know? And why would he spend so much time with her and away from his mate?

His mate – the one he’d found just recently, who was as kind and gentle as she was, who he would leave behind every time Y/N needed help.

That last part didn’t sound much like the Azriel she'd gotten to know over the last few weeks, though.

With a sigh, Y/N closed the door to her bedroom and started getting ready for the night. 

Tomorrow, she’d find Azriel. But for now, all she wanted was to turn off her thoughts, if such a thing was even possible.

Sliding under the bedsheets, she tossed and turned for a while, trying to keep her mind blank and fall asleep instead. But every time she thought she was about to enter the realm of dreams, some kind of insect would fly so close to brush her face and she had to bat it away constantly.

After what was probably the fourth time in just as many minutes, she groaned and finally opened her eyes to find the culprit.

It wasn't a fly, like she’d thought.

In the dim moonlight, she could just make out one of Azriel’s shadows hovering right over her nose. She’d gotten so used to their subtle presence in her room that she’d forgotten about it. But that tendril was definitely seeking her attention now, and she watched as it surged forward and gently brushed against her cheek.

Something slid into place inside of her.

Azriel's shadows had been with her since she'd been given this room. They seemed to like her, and judging by Cassian’s reaction that morning, it wasn't common to be favored by the dark companions of the Shadowsinger.

And then there was that tug that Feyre had mentioned – a tug toward each other. She had felt it often during the last three weeks and it always seemed to grow stronger when Azriel was close.

It's always there, even when you're apart. She could feel it now too, like a thrumming presence next to her heart.

What had Azriel said about his mate? That Y/N reminded him of her, that they were a lot alike… and that he'd found her recently.

Just like she had met Azriel only recently.

She jolted upright as realization settled upon her.

But… could it be true? Could it really be that she was the mate Azriel had mentioned? The signs were there, yet he hadn't said anything about it. Not even that morning, when she had blatantly asked if he had one.

Every remnant of doubt and uncertainty faded away when she noticed the rising darkness in the room. From the tiny cracks on the floor and the little gaps under the furniture, shadows were now slithering out of their hiding spots to gather at the foot of her bed, seemingly writhing in what she thought was excitement. The lone tendril that had woken her caressed her cheek once more.

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled, waving it away. “I get it. He’s my mate.”

The solitary strand stilled its movements, and she took the chance to shoot it a warning look, though she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. “Now let me sleep, okay? I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

She was now too tired to go looking for Azriel’s room. She didn’t even know if he was in his room anyway. Besides, this was not a conversation she wanted to have when her mind was a bit sleepy. Better to let the realization fully settle in and deal with it in the morning.

The shadows seemed to understand, because they halted their swirling, and even the stray tendril drew back, returning to the pool of darkness next to her bed.

Y/N lay back down and closed her eyes again. A small smile still graced her lips when she finally fell asleep.

She woke up only a few hours later, her breath gasping and Azriel’s name on her tongue.

A nightmare, nothing more. She tried to calm down, silently repeating it in her head. It was just a nightmare.

But she had to check on Azriel. Her stomach was clutched by an uneasiness that she couldn’t shake. Yet she didn’t move.

It was the middle of the night. Surely Azriel was sleeping by now, and she didn’t want to disturb him, not for something as silly as a nightmare. He’d done enough for her already.

She tried to go back to sleep, to ignore that invisible thread that was pulling at her chest and the thoughts that kept drifting back to Azriel. But every effort seemed useless.

She sat up, running a hand through her hair. The shadows seemed to stir on the floor as if knowing she was considering getting up.

She had no idea where Azriel’s room was. But after realizing they were mates and now the nightmare… she had to see him. It was like a physical need, nudging her to go.

As soon as she rose from her bed, a single wisp of shadow flew from the floor to her, curling around her wrist. She had a feeling she knew exactly which tendril it was.

The bond seemed to pulse in her chest as she headed for the door. But once she was outside, she didn’t know where to go. Nesta and Elain were in the same hallway, but what about Azriel? Maybe he wasn’t even on the same floor, for all she knew.

The bracelet of darkness tugged her toward the left end of the hallway, and she looked down with a frown. It did it again.

“You want me to go in that direction?” she whispered, taking a single, tentative step.

A third tug.

This was a potentially bad idea. She should have stayed in bed. Azriel was no doubt sleeping, and she would only bother him.

Yet her feet moved, and she didn’t fight the shadow as it guided her through the hallways.

~~~~~~

Azriel knew Y/N had left her room the moment she closed the door behind her thanks to his shadows. What he hadn't expected was that she was coming here, yet a few tendrils curled around his ear, whispering the same word over and over.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

A moment later, he heard her soft footsteps down the hallway. They stopped right outside his door.

He waited for her to knock, but when no sound came, he debated whether he should go open the door and let her know he was aware of her presence.

Just as he stood up, three light and quick taps on the wood resonated in the room.

Azriel swallowed. Maybe this could be his chance to tell her about the mating bond.

He walked up to the door, opening it to reveal Y/N, barefoot and clad only in her nightgown. She was fidgeting with her hands and he could bet he heard her hold her breath when she saw him.

“Did I wake you?”

Azriel glanced down at the Illyrian leathers he was still wearing. “No,” he answered with a small smile.

Only at that moment did he realize a shadow was wrapped around her wrist, just like that morning. Knowing it had been caught, the stray tendril flew back to hover around his wings with the others. His dark companions seemed to be as captivated by her as their master was.

Azriel took a better look at her. She was beautiful, even with her unbound hair a bit tousled on one side of her head. That detail, and the fact that she hadn’t bothered wearing slippers, told him she had slept – at least for a while. But judging by her fidgeting and her presence here, something was gnawing at her.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, moving to the side in a silent invite to step in. “Did you have a nightmare?”

She didn't hesitate to walk past him. “Yes.”

Her sweet scent filled his nostrils, clouding his mind so much that he barely heard her answer. She was looking at him now, her brows furrowed.

“I thought you didn't have them anymore,” he finally replied.

“Not usually, but… this one was different.” He didn't miss the tension in her voice, or how she was avoiding his gaze. “It was about you, Azriel.”

His eyes widened. If she was upset about something, if he'd maybe hurt her in her dreams… but she probably wouldn't be looking for him if that was the case, right?

“It was about that day in Hybern,” she went on. “But I wasn't being pushed into the Cauldron. It was…”

When her voice trailed off and she didn't continue, Azriel stepped closer to her and gently brushed her arm. For someone who'd lived for more than five hundred years, he wasn't sure how to act around her. He didn't know if he was allowed to touch her to comfort her, despite the help he'd already offered her multiple times. Things were different now.

“It's okay, Y/N,” he said gently. “You don't need to tell me.”

But she shook her head. “You were dead,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “In the dream, you… you were dead and I couldn't do anything.”

Before he even knew what he was doing, Azriel wrapped her in his arms. He stroked her hair, his shadows joining in and swirling through her locks.

“I'm alright. It was just a nightmare,” he whispered. He felt a sob tear through her body, and for a horrible moment he thought she'd shrink back into herself like weeks ago.

And so Azriel kept murmuring soothing words while he held her close, to prevent her from turning again into a shell of herself or having another panic attack.

Yet when Y/N pulled away just enough to look up at him, her eyes were dry. Azriel could get lost in their depths.

“I know what you are, Az,” she said, and time seemed to slow as his mind came up with all the different possibilities of what she meant.

But what she said after wasn't one of them.

“I know you're my mate.”

Time stopped completely. Azriel froze, his shadows with him, halting their swaying around her.

He seemed to watch in slow motion as she brought up a hand to cup his cheek. As her eyes softened and a smile appeared on her face.

Maybe this was all some kind of dream. Maybe he'd fallen asleep without realizing. But his shadows were whispering to him again.

Real. Real. This is real.

Azriel let himself enjoy it then. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. His hand came up to cradle hers, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxed.

“You are my mate.”

How she knew, Azriel had no idea. He knew for a fact his brothers and Amren – the only ones who had figured it out – wouldn't tell her before he could. And if Y/N had pieced it together herself, it still wouldn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was that she was here now, and she didn't seem upset or angry.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” he finally replied. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling up at him.

The sight threatened to make him crumble. He wanted to pull her closer and kiss that soft smile.

Y/N just shrugged. “It's alright. I'm not sure I would have understood it if you'd told me sooner.” Her thumb brushed against his cheek before she stepped back, and Azriel reluctantly let go of her hand and mimicked her movement.

“But you could have told me this morning,” she added, her tone amused. “When I asked if you had a mate.”

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair as he offered her a small, nervous smile. “You caught me off guard. It doesn't happen often.”

“Oh?” she chuckled, the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He even forgot to say something else.

Instead, he reached for the bond he'd kept buried deep down and let it come back to the surface. He gave it a tentative, gentle tug and watched as Y/N tensed and her eyes widened, her hand going to that spot he'd seen her rub multiple times already.

A moment later, he felt her tug back. And knowing she wasn't running away from it, from him, he closed the distance between them once more. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back and earning a small gasp in return. The need to kiss her was taking over his senses and he struggled to keep control.

Normally he'd go for it, the fact that Y/N didn't pull away and instead seemed to wait for his next move enough to tell him she wasn't going to reject him. And if she were any other girl, he'd do it. But with her, he needed to be sure. He didn't want to rush anything.

“Do you still think what you said earlier?” he asked in a hushed tone. “That my mate was lucky to have me?”

“I'm only more convinced of it now that I know it's me,” she murmured. Her smile lit up her whole face as she moved even closer. “I'm lucky to have you.”

For the first time in centuries, Azriel was feeling overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by her scent now permeating his room, by their bodies brushing against each other, by the mating bond finally out in the open and not hidden in the depths of his soul.

“No, I'm the lucky one to have you, Y/N.”

Their eyes met again and he was about to ask her if he could kiss her – Cauldron, he might even beg for it – when her gaze dropped to his lips. He waited one heartbeat, two, but when she still hadn't looked up by the third one, it was both the confirmation and permission Azriel needed.

With his hand still cradling the back of her head, he pulled her closer while he leaned down. They met halfway and Azriel’s first thought was that he would gladly stay like this forever.

Her lips were soft and warm, and they parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. He felt her hands on his chest and his wings rustled quietly behind him, an involuntary reaction to her touch.

His fingers tightened in her hair and when she moaned softly against his mouth, Azriel knew he was a goner.

But Y/N pulled back, the absence of her lips on his like a sudden emptiness in his heart.

Her cheeks had taken on a light shade of pink that made him smile. He was so lost drinking her in that he almost missed the words she whispered.

“Stay with me tonight.”

His smile widened. “You're in my room, Y/N.”

“Right.” She chuckled even as she blushed, the sight endearing. “Then let me stay with you for tonight.”

Azriel tucked her hair behind her ear. “You can stay with me every time you want. Every night, if that's what you wish.” He leaned down to press a tender kiss to her lips. “Wait in bed. I just need to get changed.”

She nodded and stepped back, his hand falling away from her cheek.

As he moved towards his drawer, the shuffle of the sheets brought a smile to his lips. He fought the urge to turn and see her lying in his bed. His mate, in his bed. Something he had almost stopped hoping for, after so many centuries.

Eager to join her, he quickly took off his Illyrian leathers to replace them with his sleeping pants. 

He didn't need his shadows to whisper in his ear to know she was watching him. He paused just as he was reaching for the shirt and lifted his head instead.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a teasing not in his voice.

The only answer he got was a low mumble that he couldn't quite make out, which only made his smile widen. Cauldron, he really wanted to turn around and see her face. He was ready to bet she was blushing.

Deciding against wearing his shirt – definitely not because he was a smug bastard who wanted to see her reaction – he turned and walked towards the bed.

He was rewarded by Y/N quickly looking away, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red as she lay back down.

Azriel chuckled, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. A part of him felt a twinge of guilt, maybe he should have donned the shirt to spare her the embarrassment. But he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing her flustered.

With a swift movement, he joined her under the bedsheets. “Y/N,” he called gently. “You know you don't have to shy away, right?”

He ran a hand down her spine and felt her shiver through the thin fabric of her nightgown. “You're my mate,” he continued. “You can look as much as you want.”

She scooted over until her back was pressed against his chest. Azriel immediately wrapped her in his arms and relished in the way her body seemed to fold into his, like that's where she belonged.

“Those are dangerous words, Azriel,” she warned. He could hear amusement in her voice and he knew she was smiling.

“Why?”

She intertwined their fingers and, to his greatest shock, brought them up to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand.

It had been decades since Azriel had learned to accept his hands and his scars, decades since he'd stopped hiding them with gloves or in his pockets. He'd done horrible and unspeakable things with those hands, but to protect his court – his family – he'd do them again. And yet to have Y/N, his mate, openly kissing them so tenderly…

He wasn't sure he was breathing.

His shadows curled around his ear, whispering something about an answer, and he realized Y/N had turned her head to look at him. She was frowning, the expression creating a small crease between her brows that he had never noticed before.

“You didn't hear what I said, did you?”

Azriel felt a heat creep up his cheeks. “Sorry,” he murmured.

She only smiled, turning around again. “I said that I might not stop looking then.”

His arms held her tighter, pulling her closer until there was no space left between their bodies. As he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, he whispered, “You're very beautiful too, Y/N. I've had a hard time not staring at you since the moment I met you.”

With their joined hands resting close to her chest, Azriel could feel her heartbeat increase. Grinning from ear to ear, he waited as she shifted a bit like she was debating whether to turn around in his arms or not. But she eventually settled against him again and murmured a thank you.

Shying away from compliments, then. He would remember that. And he would shower her with compliments until she too believed she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on.

He wanted to start now, to make her turn around and kiss her again till their lips were swollen. Instead, he draped his wing over them, creating a little cocoon of darkness and warmth where only the two of them existed.

“It’s quite late,” he murmured against her neck. “We should sleep.”

 She hummed in agreement. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

“Goodnight.”

He closed his eyes, ready for the long hours it usually took him to fall asleep. It wasn't until he heard her voice again that he realized he was already falling into a peaceful slumber.

“Az?”

“Mh?”

Her voice was a whisper, barely audible even in the silence of the night. “This morning, when Cassian mentioned having the biggest wingspan and you snapped… is that a mate related thing, or just Illyrian?”

He had no idea how she'd come up with such a question at this hour. Smiling at her innocent curiosity, he tried not to let his mind wander into dangerous territory.

“I'll explain another time,” he mumbled. “Go to sleep, Y/N.”

She giggled, the sound like music to his ears. And with his mate in his arms – her scent filling his nose, her hair tickling his neck, her soft body pressed so perfectly against his – he knew he wanted to sleep like this every night.

After centuries of searching, Azriel had finally found the place he belonged.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy

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Read the bonus scene here!

A Helping Hand Tags: @myromanempiree @loving-and-dreaming @satttanx @a-courtof-azriel @randomdumsblog @whistle1whistle @thecraziestcrayon @tinystarfishgalaxy @jesskidding3 @starlitlakes

[d1xonss]

Hi there! I was wondering if i could get some straight Daryl Dixon smut where fem!reader is asking him to choke her for the first time? If not it’s totally okay! love your writing! <3

Something New

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 1.6k

AN ~ Oooh I don’t think I’ve ever done any kind of smut like this before, but I’m happy to try! And let’s preface this first before anything else; no I don’t think Daryl would realistically feel comfortable choking someone. He strikes me as the type of man that doesn’t want to harm you in any way during something so intimate, even if you asked for it. However, I think early seasons Daryl would definitely be a little rougher during sex which is why I planned for the season 2 era. But the moral of the story is this is just for fun, and I tried to keep it as accurate as possible.

Hope you enjoy! xoxox

It had been a rough couple of days. Between getting stranded on the highway, losing Sophia, and Carl getting shot, it was safe to say that the group had seen better days. The recent events had taken a toll on all of you, the stress beginning to build up to the point of no return. And it was no surprise to you seeing Daryl was the one who was taking it the hardest. 

He was constantly tense and rigid, a permanent scowl on his face while nothing seemed to be going the way it was supposed to. Though luckily for him, you knew just the way to relieve some of that…tension.

Your gasps and moans could be heard by no one near as Daryl had taken it upon himself to move your shared tent far away from the others to get some distance. At first you were weary of the idea, but now you thought it just might’ve been the best one he’s ever had. Considering the filthy sounds he was pulling from you, it would be mortifying to face the others the following morning.

The small tent was pitch black, the only thing you were able to see were the soft outlines of the different shapes around you, along with feeling Daryl’s hot pants on the back of your neck as he continuously pounded into you. The sound of your wetness with every thrust filled the small space, almost suffocating as the sleeping bag beneath you was providing little to no comfort from the harsh ground beneath you. But with your legs tangled together and the feel of his dick hitting your hilt over and over again, the feel of tiny rocks below was far from your mind.

“Oh, fuck.” you whimpered, desperately grabbing and gripping at his arms that were wrapped around you as his pace was rough and determined. Your pussy was throbbing, the feel of his hips slapping against your ass was growing more urgent as you felt your wetness begin to run down your leg.

He grunted from behind you, feeling your walls clench around him, “That’s right, fuckin take it.” he growled into your ear, the next thing you felt were his teeth teasingly biting the shell.

You threw your head back in ecstasy, your toes curling all while trying to patch his pace with your own movements. But let’s face it, you were growing tired. And he had more stamina than the two of you combined. He could’ve kept this up all night if he wanted to just to torture you a bit more than he already was, having slowed down multiple times right when he felt you were about to come.

His large, rough hands then moved from your hips up to your breasts, giving them a generous squeeze before teasing your nipples just enough to get you to squirm even more. Gently pinching and pulling them to hear more of those delicious sounds. You cried out almost in agony with how much he was teasing you, the feeling both pleasurable and miserable. But Daryl couldn’t lie, he loved it. Hearing you like this, so aching and hungry for him drove him absolutely crazy.

Your bodies were sheen in a thin layer of sweat, the desire and lust growing even thicker with every plunge of his hips or bites at your skin. You wanted to feel him everywhere. Which is why your hand impulsively reached for his, tugging it toward your throat in a sex drunk kind of state. Though Daryl however quickly snapped out of it when his mind processed your actions, his movements stopping completely which only caused you to whine a bit in protest as you thought he only did it to tease you again. But what you couldn’t see was his expression was quite serious. Never in a million years had he even considered what you had silently asked him to do.

“What the hell are ya doin?” he asked, his tone rough with desire yet still somehow soft when it came to speaking to you.

His words brought you out of your daze, your eyes widening a little at what you had unconsciously done in a fit of impatience and longing. You had never outright admitted that you had a kind of kink, a fantasy perhaps of him wrapping his strong hands around your throat. But now that your secret was basically exposed, you felt extremely embarrassed, silently thankful that the tent was dark enough to where you couldn’t see his face. Although you could sense the tension resurfacing, the tension you so desperately tried to take away from him, was suddenly back within an instant.

“Sorry…” you huffed quietly as you tried to catch your breath, “Heat of the moment.”

Daryl was silent for what seemed like ages, leaving you thinking you had ruined the entire moment as you didn’t have a clue at what was going on in his head. But surprisingly enough, it wasn't what you had anticipated.

The idea of choking, spanking, or any kind of harmful thing really had never before crossed his mind despite how rough he could be at times. He never wished to intentionally hurt you, especially after the trust you had built up over the weeks of knowing one another. You were important to him, even though he had never been brave enough to admit that out loud, you were still quite literally the only person that mattered to him now. But seeing as clearly you weren’t opposed to the idea of exploring something new, he figured...maybe he could get behind it. 

His face leaned down toward your ear again from behind, “You tell me if it’s too much…ya hear me?” he said almost sternly to show you how serious he was about this.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, opening your mouth to question him, but you didn’t get the chance before his hand came up to gently squeeze at your neck. Your eyes widened, a surprised whimper escaping your lungs while his hips slowly began to buck up into you again, picking up right where he had left off.

The tightness he held around your throat immediately sent you back to that blissful haze, feeling your limbs begin to tingle as he continued to send shockwaves of pleasure up your spine. You moaned loudly when he squeezed a bit tighter, testing the waters with how much you could take. But it didn’t hurt at all surprisingly, like he somehow knew exactly what he was doing though he had never tried this before in his life. It was almost concerningly perfect, and you were in heaven.

“God, you sound so pretty.” he breathed, his pace increasing as he began to manhandle you, “You really like this, don’t you?” he asked almost teasingly.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to hear the tone of his voice, only managing to focus on how good it felt as you nodded your head frantically. Silently begging him to let you finish this time.

He choked you a bit harder when you didn’t respond, “Come on girl…tell me how good it feels.” he groaned.

You panted heavily while simultaneously swallowing to try and lubricate your dry throat, “Feels good- feels so good.” you stuttered pathetically.

Daryl hummed in approval as he heard your response, leaning his head down to kiss and lick at the skin of your shoulder while his free hand moved down to rub circles on your clit. A sharp gasp was pulled from you as you arched your back into him, your vision growing almost spotty at the amount of sensations he was giving you. Your legs began to twitch and he could feel your walls clenching around him even more intensely as you neared your orgasm again. But instead of slowing down, he finally continued to draw it out.

Your moans and whines grew louder and louder as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, his hand over your throat only making your brain feel more fuzzy. You almost couldn’t control the sounds you were making anymore as you finally came, crying out his name in the state of bliss you had craved so much. It was like for a moment you saw stars, feeling as if your soul left your body for a moment as his fingers continued to work on your sensitive clit. The feeling of your tight walls consuming him left him not far behind as he quickly managed to pull out of you, before spilling himself onto your back with a low groan of pleasure.

It took minutes for the two of you to finally come down from your high, catching your ragged breaths while your bodies felt almost too limp to even attempt to move. But eventually, his hand retracted back from your neck as he slowly sat up a bit, leaving a tender kiss on the back of your head to express what he couldn’t with words.

“We…we need to do that again.” you breathed quietly, slumping onto your back from exhaustion.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your silent request, shaking his head though you couldn’t see, “Let’s wait a few hours at least…don’t wanna kill ya.” he said lightheartedly.

You huffed softly, “I think you already did. I feel like I can’t move my legs.”

His eyes glanced down, his hand coming up to run along your hip before traveling down your thigh, “How bout a massage then, hm?”

It’s funny, you thought. One minute he was saying the dirtiest things, fucking you until you forgot your own name. And then the next, he was sweetly suggesting a massage after his own doings. But then again, you would never complain. Perhaps after this, he would be more keen to trying new things…

~ Thanks for reading!

[avocad1s]

Hello! I really love your works! I am writing to ask for a scenario involving the creator, still being with Capitano in Natlan, feels/sees Capitano's face unmasked for the first time? In 5.1 Capitano explained that his face is likely unrecognizable due to the rot and I was just hoping to read some fluff where the creator accepts him as he is or maybe heals him somehow? Anyways feel free to ignore this of it is something your not interested in! Thanks again!

Note: My love for Capitano has only grown. I don’t think I will ever mentally recover if he isn’t playable. And thank you so much for the support anon! Also sorry for the long wait! I got caught up in BG3 so I haven’t been playing Genshin lmao

Some spoilers for Natlan! You’ve been warned!

Could be seen as a part two to this, but could also be read as a standalone piece.

You’re starting to believe this wasn’t a dream anymore.

Days had passed since you encountered the Fatui in the woods of Natlan and have been staying in Capitano’s tent. Although you know time in Genshin passed differently than in real life, everything just felt too real.

You could feel the heat of fire on your skin, taste the food Capitano gave to you, feel the weight of his coat on your shoulders when he would drape it over you when you were cold. It didn’t matter what you would ask for, Capitano or his subordinates would get it for you.

However, it seemed like the only thing you couldn’t ask for was to go to the stadium or any of the tribes. Capitano always stating it was too dangerous for you there but he promised to fix it— to fix your world for you.

You dropped the topic for the moment, although you were incredibly disappointed not to get a first look at Natlan’s citizens. You didn’t want to just leave Capitano’s campsite, not after everything he’s done for you.

Yet not matter how kind and caring the Captian was to you, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was always obscured by his helmet, you could only take his words at face value even though you were sure you could hear the genuine tone in his voice.

When it came to eating, drinking, bathing or tending whatever wounds he had underneath his armor, he would never take it off in front of you. Always doing it in private. You’ve asked his subordinates about it but they seemed just as curious about it as you were.

Just like every night, Capitano brings you a plate of food. He didn’t let anyone else handle anything you would digest, maybe he was being too paranoid.

“Capitano?” You call out.

The Capitan’s footsteps immediately cease, although he hadn’t turned around to look at you it was clear you had his full attention.

“Yes?” He hesitates for a moment before speaking your name. You hated being called ‘Your Grace’ or any other formality and asked him to call you by your real name. You wonder just how flustered he was when you asked considering he stumbled over his words and asked to be excused afterwards.

“How come you never take off your helmet?”

A long silence fills the tent once the question leaves your lips. He doesn’t move nor speak as you stare at his back. You shift slightly on your seat, feeling a sense of discomfort crawl up your spine. Did you anger him? The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. He’s been a great host to you.

“Uhm— sorry I shouldn’t have asked.” You say, immediately backtracking.

Capitano shakes his head, his long raven hair flowing effortlessly behind him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just I—“

He sighs, “—you will not like what you see.”

Your eyes widen at his statement as Capitano turns to face you. “As you know, I’m from Khaenri’ah and this…”

He looks down at his gloved hand, balling it into a fist. “… This curse of immortality has prevented me from dying but my body continues to age. Due to the rot, I no longer look how I used to 500 years ago.”

‘So he’s like Dain…’ you think to yourself as you stare up at him silently.

Capitano wastes no time to kneel in front of you bringing his hands up to his helmet. “But you’re my Creator, if you wish to look upon my face, I will not object.”

“Wait…” you place a hand on top of his and the Captain stops.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wish, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Capitano lets out a sound, it almost sounded like a low chuckle. “There’s nothing you could ask me to do that would make me uncomfortable. Serving you is my greatest pleasure.”

Capitano’s helmet is released with a small hiss then he pulls it off fully letting it rest in his palms.

You suck in a breath as you gaze falls upon his face. Different parts of it were at different processes of decay, it only made you wonder if this condition caused him any pain.

“I— I’m sorry…” are the first words to slip past your lips.

He shakes his head. “You have no reason to apologize, it’s not your fault.”

“Does it… hurt?” You murmur.

Capitano gives you a smile, a genuine one that reaches his eyes.

“Nothing that I’m not used to already.” He states.

You could feel your heart sink at his words. He’s been dealing with this for centuries, dealing with the weight of his home being destroyed and he still wants to do everything for you. This must be a great burden to bear.

Capitano on the other hand, watches your expression intensely. You’re not speaking. Did his face disgust you? Of course it did, he’d be a fool to think anything else.

Insecurity wasn’t something he’d ever felt before, at least not something he could remember. Capitano was confident in his strength and even in his worship for you. But having you look on his face, not being able to fully interpret your expression, he could only feel dread in his chest. What if you don’t want to be under his care anymore? Maybe sending you off to Snezhnaya with his colleagues would be a good idea.

Capitano clears his throat and moves to put his helmet back on.

“Wait!” You call out and he stops.

“You don’t have to…” You voice almost comes out as a whisper. “… Cover up your face I mean.”

He raises a brow. “My face doesn’t disgust you?”

You shake your head. “Of course not. I… like looking at your face. You have gorgeous eyes.”

The Captain quickly looks away from you, his dark hair shielding his flustered face. “…I— Im grateful for that…” he stammers.

After gathering himself he turns to look at you again. You were smiling at him, not a degrading smile, but one filled with amusement and fondness. He’d do anything to keep this for himself, no one else knew you descended, perhaps he could be selfish for just a bit longer.

Note: So if I read correctly, based on genshin wiki, I think Mika’s voice lines, Capitano should have deep blue eyes? I think…? I have no idea ☠️

© avocad1s 2024

[hearts4sturniolo]

𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

where your love for a very specific accessory does wonders for you

warning: foul language, oral f!receiving, p in v, rough sex, degradation, praise, use of pet names, overstimulation

notes: happy halloween sexies, guess whose back ;) story fully written for my wife, her inspo brought me back from the grave <3

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

you didn't consider yourself a weak person by any means, mentally and physically. life had thrown enough at you and you had handled it with grace until now. you were a few dates in with a guy you had just recently met, attire usually casual clothes and nice, fixed hair that usually ended up messy by the end of the night. after some time spent alone on this friday evening, you get a call from said guy asking to come to his place for the first time and how he was on his way to get you.

simple enough right? wrong.

matt pulled up to your house as you are locking your front door. his windows were tinted so you could never really see inside until you were opening up the passenger door. when you did, you practically turned into a puddle as you found out your one weakness.

very attractive men in backwards hats.

which led you to where you were now, half naked on this mans bed, straddling his lap as he sat against his headboard. "fuck honey," matt groaned, hands gripping your bare thighs as you sucked his neck "what's gotten into you tonight?"

"mm nothing." you whimpered, his hands forcing you to grind down on his dick. the panties you had on doing very little for you as they were soaking wet, just causing you to feel him in a more intense way.

your lips pressed into his as an act to get him to shut it, tongue pushing its way into his mouth. a groan escaped matt's lips as he continued to grind against your pussy, his fingers digging into you with brutal pressure. you didn't give a fuck if he left bruises, you were an empty canvas begging to be turned into art.

his tatted arm came up to grip your jaw, "you gonna tell me the truth or are you gonna keep lyin' to me."

your face turned beat red and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to turn away and hide but his grip on you remained steady. his cock flush against you making it harder to think by the second, but you mustered enough courage to mumble incoherently.

"what was that baby? cmon speak up for me." matt spoke gently, thumb stroking your cheek as he used the other hand to slowly grind you back down on him.

your head spun in circles as you tried to ground yourself and take control back of the situation, "that slutty fuckin' hat."

"what?" he questioned, jaw slacking up.

"don't make me say it again matt, please." you pleaded, desperately trying to squirm out of his grasp but to no avail.

"my hat huh?" matt questioned again, moving to hold you as he flipped you onto your back, caging you to the bed. his lips trailing kisses down your body between sentences. his fingers intertwined with your lacy panties as he dragged them off you. "gotta watch that pretty mouth though."

"it's true though, 'knew what you were doing when-" his mouth enveloping your core, cutting you off and causing a strangled moan to come out of you.

he messily sucked on your clit as your hands flew to grip the sheets next to you. "told you to watch it, mouthing off isn't gonna make this go any quicker." it felt like within seconds you were already so close to finishing. "fuckin' soaked f'me baby, god, i wanna ruin you."

his words definitely weren't helping.

"ruin me, please." you begged, his eyes looking up at your from his place in-between your legs. his backwards cap still sat nicely around his head as you nearly came from the sight.

he propped himself back up, away from you, as he threw his hat somewhere in the room and pealed off the sweatshirt from his back with one hand. smirk plastered on his face as he began to tug off his sweatpants and boxers in one motion, cock springing free. "oh baby, if this is how i get you, i'll wear that hat every fucking time i see you."

you whined pathetically as you watched him stroke his cock, hovering over you. there was no possible way of hiding your arousal now, you were soaked just from the sight of seeing him in a hat and now you were whining at the slightest glimpse of his dick. grabbing a pillow, he lifted your hips off the bed to slide it underneath you. beads of sweat starting to form just barely between his eyebrows as he zoned in on you.

he tapped his tip against your clit, smearing his precum and mixing it with your slick. your eyes fluttered closed as he eased himself into you, sighing with content as he pushed himself to the point of bottoming out. the way you squeezed around him could've caused him to cum on the spot, your scrunched up face making him painfully harder. he thrusted into you at an antagonizing pace, "atta girl, fuck, this pussy was just made for me wasn't it?"

"mhm, all yours baby," matt's thrust became more rapid as he positioned himself closer towards your body, "god, fuck me."

your legs wrapped instinctively around his back, pulling him even closer towards you as he pounded into you. his hands flew to your waist to hold himself stable and to hold you in place, fingernails digging into your skin. the sound of skin slapping echoed through the room as you felt him hit your g-spot. "fuck."

"so fuckin' tight, so fuckin' perfect." his eyes roamed up and down your body. tits bouncing back and forth as one hand grabbed your thigh to pull a leg over his shoulder. the feeling of his dick throbbing inside of you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, was sending you into a blissed out state.

"matt, please, g'na cum soon." you moaned, legs clenching around his figure.

"take it, that's my good girl, fuckin' take it." the pace he's fucking you at forms that familiar tight coil in your gut, threatening to spill over at any second. matt reaches down and thumbs your clit, your thighs tremble as your orgasm rushes over you in an instant. you try to wriggle out of matts hold on you, but he continues to thrust in and out of you.

he grunts as he speaks, "you're funny if you think that's the only one im gettin' outta you tonight, wanna call me a slut? you're gonna see what its like to be treated like one."

taglist: @sweetangelgirl7 @hanbinics @mattscoquette

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

X. The Conflict (+18, Smut, MDNI)

“non est vivere sed valere vita est.”

Life is more than just being alive.

The distance from the city to the port of Ostia was not great, but the ride was rather lengthy and tiring, even for a seasoned rider. Octavius was ever watchful, noting when you were faltering and offering you a respite. You declined, though your body was crying out for it. Your sole concern was to reach Marcus before it was too late. Fortunately, a little later, Octavius noticed a few tracks on the ground as you passed through the dark woods, slowed down and dismounted his horse. He crouched down and examined the tracks then looked at you.

"We should continue on foot from this point onwards, my lady."

"Are we close?" You looked around but there was nothing in sight.

"Indeed. We must proceed with caution and avoid attracting attention. We need to leave the horses here," he said, holding the reins of his horse as he approached you and extended his hand.

"Thank you sir but I can dismount myself." You said and got down from your horse, despite the soreness in your legs. It felt nice to be able to step on the ground again. Unio let out a soft neigh, as if she had read your thoughts. You stroked her face and, grasping her reins, walked in the direction Octavius had said. It was quite some distance from the road and not very visible. In this darkness of the night, it would have been difficult to see anything if not for the moonlight anyway.

Once you had tied your horses, you set off through the forest, guided by Octavius. You eventually reached a hill. It appeared to be a rather tranquil. The only sound that could be heard was the hooting of an owl.

“My lady, if I might ask you to consider promising me something,” Octavius said.

You raised your eyebrows. “What is it?”

"If we don't make it in time, you'll come back to the villa with me."

“No need to worry about that now, if we make it in time, Sir Octavius.”

He sighed. “I'm pretty sure Acacius will kill me this time,” he muttered.

You looked at him with a hint of guilt. “I'm sorry, but you're doing this for him, for your General, your friend.”

"I hope he's already taken care of him and I hope we've came here for nothing. I'd be really happy to be reprimanded and even punched by him."

You laughed nervously. "Would it offend you if I said I hope so too, sir?"

He grinned. "Never, my lady."

"You are a good friend, Octavius.

"Always at your service.”

You were startled by the sound of a horse neighing and immediately sought cover behind nearby bushes. You observed that three horses were tethered in the forest.

"That's Dromos," you realized.

"We must be close," Octavius said quietly.

You soon heard the sound of swords clashing in the distance and moved at a slow pace towards it. When you saw Marcus from behind, you were on the verge of running to him without thinking, but Octavius grabbed you by the shoulder and pulled you back.

“We can't let them see us,” he said, warning you.

He led you to move out of sight to the left, where you hid in the bushes. You observed the situation at a distance and noticed that Marcus cut a soldier with his sword made him collapsed to the ground. However he was alone, probably having lost his men. Macrinus, on the other hand, was standing just behind the five soldiers.

“General, you must cease this nonsense. You'll get yourself killed.”

“Not before I take your life first!”

Your heart was racing with worry. Even for Marcus, who was one against five men, survival was a near impossibility. Octavius stepped in front of you as you stood up.

“My lady, please wait here, I will back him up," he whispered, his hand moving to his sword.

Just then, you heard horse hooves and three horsemen appeared, coming towards them from ahead. Macrinus let out a laugh. Octavius swallowed and looked at his General, unsure of what to do.

At the time you thought you had to stop it somehow, knowing the fact that Marcus won't stand much of a chance. It seemed that he had no intention of retreating though. Furthermore, he assumed a defensive stance, grasping his sword more firmly.

You reached out to grasp Octavius' arm as he began to step towards them.

"I must stop them."

Octavius opened his eyes wide. "But how, my lady? No, return to your horse now, and-"

"No, please hear me out. I don't believe Macrinus will harm me. And Marcus won't let him go no matter what. Besides even with your help, you can't beat all of them. This is the only way.”

Octavius seemed unsure. "What makes you so sure that he won't harm you?’

“Think about it. He has known me for quite some time.” You observed them from behind the bushes. It seemed as though Marcus was contemplating an attack. “If he wanted to kill me he would have done it when we were alone, but instead he made me appear before the council, why do you think?”

"To help you regain your title and gain formal recognition."

'Well, it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, of course. I believe that when he ascends to the throne, he thinks it would be beneficial for him to have a strong consort that he values in his council." Your voice cracked.

Octavius clenched his jaw. “There is no stronger consort than a princess,” he muttered. Then opened his eyes wide. “If he kills the General-“ he swallowed, words caught in his throat.

“I won't let that happen. So step aside and let me stop them.”

Octavius nodded in despair. "If things don't go well, I'll be here to ensure your safety and that of the General. I'll do my utmost until my last breath.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, moving slowly through the bushes. Just then all five men and the others drew their swords making a schwing sound echoing through the woods.

"General, this is my final warning. It is not possible for you to survive this." Macrinus called out to him.

Marcus was aware that, regardless of his considerable strength as a warrior, it would be extremely challenging to fight against such a large number of soldiers. But retreat was not an option for him. He had to take Macrinus down and make sure his head was severed from his body, no matter what. If he could do that, he didn't mind facing his own death in the end. He was only afraid of being separated from you; he had no other fears at all. He was truly grateful for all those beautiful moments he shared with you. Getting ready for a confrontation, he pointed his sword at the soldier charging towards him. Just as he was about to attack, you suddenly jumped in between them, yelling.

“Stop!"

With determination, you swiftly drew your knife from its sheath on your ankle, holding it firmly in one hand as you prepared to execute your seemingly absurd plan. Marcus opened his eyes wide, looked at you in surprise, and then glanced around.

"Aurelia! What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled.

"My lady!" Macrinus was shocked too. Keeping his distance, moving towards you behind the soldiers, equally bewildered.

"End this, please." You said without looking at either of them.

"Go back, now!" Marcus shouted, knowing full well who had brought you here.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," you protested.

"I have to finish what I started. Now, go!” He hissed.

He brandished his sword at Macrinus's men once more, determined not to back down. You, however, had no intention of letting him get himself killed. With no other option, you put your knife against your neck. Marcus looked back at you, astounded. As your eyes met, Macrinus, as you had suspected, grew concerned and approached you.

“That knife looks pretty dangerous, my lady. I think you should give that to me.”

“Stay back!” You shouted at him, “Don't come any closer!”

“Are you mad? What do you think you're doing?” Marcus roared. He was boiling with anger.

"I'm a medicus, aren't I? I know exactly how and where I should cut to kill myself without suffering."

Marcus clenched his jaw.

"Do you wish to kill yourself, my lady?" Macrinus asked.

You looked at him, feeling the sharp surface of the knife, it made you tense but forced yourself to stay calm. Also, it seemed like a good opportunity to see if your theory was correct.

“You don't want me to die, do you, Sir Macrinus?’

He raised his hand as if he wants to stop you. “No, of course not, my lady. Please put that knife down.” He looked at Marcus. “Acacius, I think we're done here.”

Marcus looked at him with a piercing gaze. “This isn't over, Macrinus.”

He laughed, then his gaze hardened as he looked at him. “You'd better be on the right side when the inevitable happens, General, if you care enough for your wife.”

“If not today, rest assured that I will end you.” Marcus growled.

“It would only be to your detriment,” he said, his eyes shifting to you before he nodded and turned. He tapped one of his soldiers on the shoulder. “Sheath your swords! We're heading for the harbour!” He jumped on his horse and the soldiers followed him behind.

Marcus turned his head towards you and came up to you angrily, snatching your knife and pulling so hard that you stumbled towards him.

"Why did you come here? How dare you hold a knife to your throat?" he barked. His voice was loud enough to make you startle. "I didn't give you this to cut yourself! Don't you value your own life at all?"

"You're the one who doesn't value your own life!" You shouted back. Marcus frowned. "What's the matter with you? Do you think it's worth risking your life trying to kill him? You know how it feels when you lose someone you care about. How can you be so selfish? Have you ever thought about what I'd do if you died? You're so mean.”

As your tears rolled down your cheeks, Marcus' expression softened. He approached you, took your face in his hands and gently wiped your tears away with his thumbs. His dark brown eyes spoke volumes, but he was so angry that he remained silent. After staring at you for a while, he pulled his hands back and looked towards the bushes.

"Octavius! I know you're in there, get over here now!"

The bushes rustled and crunched loudly. As soon as Octavius set foot on the dirt road, you noticed the tension on his face despite the darkness. He came up to you and bowed his head to the General. Marcus gripped him by his leather armour in his fist and pulled roughly.

“Since when have you begun to disobey my orders?”

“Forgive me, sir. I was wrong.”

“I forced him, Marcus,” you interjected.

He ignored you. “I told you to protect her, you shouldn't have cared about what she said to you. You should have stopped her, Even if it meant locking her up or tying her up, it would have been better to do so.”

You laughed hysterically. “You can't be serious.”

He turned towards you. “I'm quite serious, my lady. Instead of risking your life in such a ridiculous way, you would be safe."

You rolled your eyes. "I wasn't really intending to kill myself. I just wanted to be sure of Macrinus' intentions, but you were so determined to sacrifice yourself without listening to me, so I didn't know what else I could do.”

“We'll talk about it when we return home,” he said, pointing his index finger at you. Then he turned and approached his soldiers lying lifeless on the ground, sorrow evident in his eyes. “Octavius, make sure the funeral rituals for our brothers shall be arranged.”

“Yes, sir.” He approached him, kneeling next to a soldier and closing his eyelids.

From a distance, you watched them and found yourself blaming yourself. Perhaps if you had arrived sooner, you could have played a role in saving their lives. Or, if you had come later, Marcus might have faced a similar fate. You shook your head and tried to put these thoughts out of your mind.

While Octavius tended to the deceased soldiers, you and Marcus returned to the villa on horseback. It was just after midnight. The vast majority of the villa's residents were awake and gathered in the courtyard, awaiting your return. Marcus remained silent all the way back, likely still enraged at you. You were no different. It was torture to think that you had nearly lost him because of Macrinus.

Cato respectfully took hold of the reins of Marcus' horse as he jumped down. You dismounted too, noting that your legs felt a little sore from the long ride. As soon as you landed on the ground, you felt a momentary loss of balance, but Marcus' arm caught you. You smiled at him. Even though he was angry; he was still there to protect you. However, he did not smile back. Instead, he took hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the courtyard.  Furthermore, he was not as gentle as he usually was. He did not care when you moaned from the pain in your wrist. He took a quick glance at everyone in the courtyard who greeted you and pulled you towards the stairs. When you turned your head, you saw their faces. They seemed grateful for the safe return of their Dominus, but perhaps a little worried about you. At least, that was your interpretation, because you knew you were in trouble.

He shut the door behind you. You were glad when he released your wrist, as it started to throb. You knew it would be bruised by the next day. Marcus put his holster away while you rubbed your wrist with your other hand. You went over to help him remove his armour. He was aware of your intentions and leaned against the edge of his desk with his arms folded. There was blood splattered on the Medusa's face and on the leather strips of the armour. You gave Marcus a direct look as you undid the armour's threads. He was still frowning and staring ahead. He still seemed to refuse to look at you as you undid the other side.

“You know you're not the only one who's angry, right?”

He then turned his head to you as your fingers unraveled the threads a little harder.

“You can't be any angrier than I am.” He took off his armour.

You crossed your arms, “Why not, I can be just as angry as you.” You lifted your head and looked away stubbornly.

Marcus was trying not to laugh at your behaviour. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

“No way, princess. I'm more than angry; I'm fuming!”

You looked at him as he walked towards you. His gaze certainly showed his anger, but when you noticed the hint of mischief at the corner of his lips, you decided to continue playing this game. He was removing his armbands.

“Fuming? Hah! I'm furious!” you shouted sarcastically.

He threw the armbands on the floor and came right in front of you. This time his gaze was intense.

“I'm filled with wrath!” he growled.

You involuntarily took a step backwards. “So?” 

He appeared to be relishing the opportunity to engage in this somewhat heated, sexual tension-filled game, as he took a few steps towards you.

Suddenly, your back slammed on the wall. He lifted your wrists above your head and leaned in.

"I think you deserve some punishment," he murmured, his breath caressing your ears and causing your body to shudder. He pressed his pelvis against yours and his lips found the vein on your neck. He sucked and nibbled at it, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. His lips trailed from your neck to your chin, and you found yourself longing to touch them.

You took a sharp intake of breath. He teased your lips with a slight touch before retreating. You leaned forward, aiming for his lips, but you failed. He smirked. His right hand roughly removes your cloak and undresses you, while his left hand keeps a strong hold on your wrists. Your dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet as the hem caught on the scabbard tied around your ankle. Marcus bent down, untied it and pulled it off. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the legs and threw you over his shoulder. Before you could blink, you were on the bed, gasping for breath. Your stomach tightened with excitement when he emerged from above you.

But he still hadn't taken off his tunic, you thought angrily.

It seemed a bit unfair that you were the only one who was naked. He pushed you back gently when you reached towards him. "Not yet, princess." His hot breath hit your breasts, making you squirm. You were infuriated when he roughly spread your legs with the palm of his hand. Was he going to enter you before your lips met and traveled over each other's body, before his hands caressed your breasts? That's what he called punishment?

You bit your lower lip as you felt his strong fingers on your most sensitive spot. But his fingers lingered, moving in circles. You wanted to sit up and look at him, but he pushed you backwards with his other hand. After teasing your clit with his fingers, which made you clench the sheet, he grabbed your hips and buried his head between your legs. He deliberately blows into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he's getting pleasure from driving you mad with his mouth. He flips his tongue and sucks your most sensitive area hungrily, relentlessly. You moan loudly and your response encourages him to increase the pressure. He is an expert in the art of pleasure giving and he uses you as skilfully as he uses his sword.

“Marcus,” you groaned, you're almost sure that your voice echoing in every corner of the villa. Feeling almost at the edge. You feel him smiling as he moves his lips and touches your body with his warm tongue and fingers. But he retreats suddenly. You moan in protest. You open your eyes to look at him. Panting. You feel a surge of disappointment and a distinct sense of being used. But he laughs cruelly. He wipes your sweet liquid from his lips with his thumb, then licks and sucks the tip, smiling crookedly all the while.

You frown. “So that was your punishment?”

“I was actually going to do more, but…" He quickly takes off his tunic, throwing it on the floor. “I missed you so much and I want you so badly right now.”

“Take me then.” You smiled naughtily.

He smiles back and grabs your arm, using his soldier strength, he turns you and bends you over until you're crouching on your knees. One of his hands is still holding yours behind your back, and the other keeps your torso down so your breasts press against the silk sheet. You wriggle, and his grip tightens. Gods! You haven’t ever felt so helpless. Used like a toy. He keeps teasing your lower wet lips with the tip of his erection. His voice is husky, sensual. “How will I take you, my sweet princess?”

He digs his fingers deep into the cheeks of your butt. This position feels raw, animalistic but pleasantly erotic at the same time. “Shall I take you this way?” he asks without stopping his hungry attack. His warm breath, and beard tickles your ear, and waves of hot pleasure wash through your skin. As though your body is a toy, he forcibly turns you again, and now your under him once more. One hand holds you immobile by your throat. The other grabs your hip. "Or this way?" he says as his now-soaked tip presses against your entrance, bringing shudders and ecstasy into your squirming body. You moan loudly, pressing his lips to yours roughly, silencing you.

He’s taken full control of your body and won’t share it with you. He’ll take you in any way he wants. And, yet, because your body is yearning for him, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop, this was a huge turn-on for you. "Marcus," you whimpered. "Please, I want to be yours. Take me now. Pretty, pretty, please." You begged.

He smiled and let you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you. He was as impatient as you were, but he was determined to keep this fun and heated game going. He was having fun rubbing his lips against yours and making you whimper a little more. For him, there was no comparison to watching you squirm to be his.  But he couldn't wait to be inside you, and when he finally pushed his length inside your walls, entered you roughly, your body trembled with pleasure. You felt euphoric when his mouth finally met yours. You enjoy him kissing you with incredible hunger until you forget to breathe. With each rough thrust, you instinctively dug your fingers into his back which made him lose it, deepening the kiss, turning it into a carnal mating of mouths. He bit your lower lip, and you moaned with both pain and pleasure. He released his bruising grip, the hard press of his lips, and rolled onto his back, taking you with him. He seems a little worried, but when you giggle at him, he grins and buries his head between your breasts, licking your sternum all the way to your neck. He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, your back hitting his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nuzzles his nose into your hair and finds your ear.

“I want to take you this way.” His hot breath hits your ear as he caresses his way up your neck, making you shiver.

He practically has to arrange your limbs himself as he folds you forward onto your hands and knees and settles behind you. He wrapped his arms around your torso, entering you from behind, and you moved together, as one, never once breaking your intimate connection. When he increased his rhythm, one hand gathered your hair on one side of your neck. His lips traveled from your neck to your exposed shoulder, while his other hand wrapped around your waist. This position made you feel his length much deeper inside you. Your mewl-like moans were added to his and harmonized with the slick sound of each thrust. it sounded like your own special music. Marcus' hands slid under your arms to your breasts and cupped them. You threw your head back in pleasure, bumping into his shoulder as he kissed your neck repeatedly. With his forehead and brows covered in sweat, he sensed that the end was near and his hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and reaching his climax at the same time as you. You instinctively leaned forward as he filled you with his warm liquid, but he caught you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He groaned loudly and his hot breath washed over your ear. You felt his nose on your cheekbone. His hand cupped your chin, turned your face to his and kissed you passionately. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and turned towards him, he pulled out of you and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you panting. Your eyes were closed, savouring the moment as the sweat mingled on your forehead and ran down your cheeks. You opened your eyes as Marcus placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He brushed back a few strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, also caught in your eyelashes. You looked into his eyes and looked at him.You spoke with your eyes for a while, then he frowned. He took your face in his hands, his expression serious. You were unaware that you were crying until his thumbs wiped away your tears from your cheeks. He bent his head and kissed your eyelids and long eyelashes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't stop your sobs and tears. All the emotions you felt seemed to take over your body at once.

His fingers ran through your hair. “My love. From now on, I won't risk my life easily,” he said in a velvety tone. “So please don't cry.”

You nodded and sniffled. Marcus kissed the top of your head and pulled you down with him onto the bed. You snuggled into his chest, realising how much you missed him even though it had only been a few days. It was late at night and the only sound in the room was the two of you breathing.

“I guess this has become a habit for me,” Marcus broke the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him. You ran your eyes over the sparse beard on his chin, greying in places.

"I've always lived my life like this, always fighting, battling, killing. It's the easiest thing I can do." His fingers traced the curve of your spine. “I was never afraid, not of death, not of losing. I just fought. It was easy because I had nothing to lose. That night, when I was poisoned, I knew it was time for my eternal rest. I felt relieved, not afraid, but ready.”

You swallowed, thinking about that night for the first time in a long while.

"But then I saw those eyes and they gave me the purpose to carry on living." He tenderly touched your cheek with the back of his hand. You raised your head to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you.

“Now I have a responsibility,” he smiled. “My weakness.” He bent his head and stroked yours with his nose. “A beautiful reason for me to die for.” His lips ran through your forehead. "Dying for Rome is easy, simple. But for you, my lady, it's hard, painful. The thought of never seeing you again.” He exhaled deeply. “It puts me in agony.” He frowned. “Just when I saw you put that knife to your neck so recklessly. It was painful too. I'm still angry with you for that.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I feel the same way, Marcus. I can't even begin to tell you how much it hurts me to think of losing you. I couldn't sit idly by while you risk your life. I'd never be able to bear to lose you." Even the thought of it made you shudder.

He sighed and turned his head towards you. “You won't lose me. There is nothing more important to me in this life than you. How whole and at peace I feel when I hold you in my arms when I'm deep inside you. The reason is you, princess. The reason I wake up every morning with a smile. The reason I am eager to return home from my duties. To you. So I don't want you to do one more thing to put yourself in danger.”

You kissed his chest. You wanted to say more but his words were so beautiful, you couldn't object. You felt tired from the horse journey so you snuggled closer to him. Before he wrapped his arm around you, he covered you both with the sheet. You were finally about to get the peaceful sleep you had been longing for for days. In his arms.

When you woke up in the morning, the sun was high in the sky, but it wasn't its light that woke you up. Instead, it was the gentle caresses you felt on your legs that roused you. Your hand moved to the side of the bed to feel the sheets, but Marcus wasn't there. You opened your eyes when the caresses on your legs were replaced by nibbles. Was he under the sheet? Your eyes opened wide when you saw Marcus's face, smirking at you from between your legs.

“Morning, princess.” His boyish and mischievous grin spread all over his face. “May I?”

“What are you- Ow!” You gasped when you felt his tongue on your most sensitive area.

Expertly, he was licking, biting, sucking, giving you incredible pleasure this early in the morning. You had now discovered all the men inside his enormous body. The honourable man, the dominant leader, the fearless warrior, the poet, the loving husband, the romantic gentleman, the expert lover full of lust, the child inside the fourth year old man.

You smiled when the lustful expert lover has taken you to the sky full of pleasure. It's empowering to know that it was you who drove a powerful, dominating, strong beast like him mad. As you descend from the sky, he settles on top of you, placing kisses from your legs to your belly and then to your breasts and chin. He kisses your eyelids and asks you to look at him without telling you. Now that you know him so well, you immediately obey. Since you are already so ready for him, he enters you easily. He wraps his arms around you, you throw your hands back and clench the sheets. Your body curves backwards and he speeds up his thrusts. You try to suppress the urge to close your eyes tightly. He realises and finds a new solution for you and presses his forehead to yours. You smile when your eyelashes touch. But then, when he gets closer to the edge, also gets deeper into you and increases the pace tremendously, he buries his head in your collarbone. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck. And once again, you ascend to the sky. This time, you feel immense pleasure. You feel a few bites on your neck. You look at him, your eyes alight with wonder, and marvel at the beauty of the man that is coming undone inside you. He tightens his arms around your waist and moans as he reaches his climax. His body collapses on top of yours, his arms loosening. It's so beautiful to watch him as you feel his heated breath on your neck. To feel his heart thudding violently against his chest, the way your bodies connected. You both savour the glorious, euphoric feeling of being in love. Your breathing returns to ease, you feel him soften inside you and he lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms.

"Do you have any duties today?" you ask as you run your fingers over his chest.

"Yes, first I have to meet with my legates, then I have to go to the barracks. I believe there may be someone spying for Macrinus. It would be beneficial to find him before he returns to Rome."

"Didn't you say you'd already found him?"

"No, he was Julia's." His voice was sharp. You were sure he killed him. It must have been very hard for him though, a soldier from his own troops spying for someone else. After a moment or two of silence, you asked him to change the subject.

"Am I forgiven?"

“I’m thinking about it.”

You sat up in bed, intending to study his face, but suddenly a feeling of nausea hit you and you fell back. Your neck hit his shoulder.

“Oh…" You put your hand to your head. Your vision was blurred, closed your eyelids.

“My love. Are you alright?" There was concern in his voice. He sat up in bed and wrapped his arms around you.

You opened your eyes and smiled at his worried face. “My head is spinning a bit.”

“It's almost noon. You've been sleeping for a while.”

“Noon?" You hadn't realised it had been that long. You were usually up early, woken by the rooster. Perhaps it was because you hadn't slept well for a few days without him.  Maybe it was because you hadn't slept properly in his absence for days. "But did you wake up first and await me?"

"That is correct, but then I became somewhat impatient if you remember." he winked.

You smiled shyly. He graciously kissed the top of your head. “My lady, I believe that you may be hungry, are you not?"

You yawned and nodded. “Indeed I am. I must admit that I am rather famished after my longest horse journey.”

He laughed. "I'll tell them to prepare a lunch for us. I must then take my leave.”

Once Marcus had departed from the villa, you wanted to check on the girls. Norell and Decima were sitting together in the courtyard, weaving rugs. You stood nearby, observing them. Decima was from Egypt, so she was used to weaving and her hands were moving with practiced ease. She mentioned about it before.

"My lady, would you care to try?" Decima asked.

"It looks very intricate," you hesitated.

Tullia came into the courtyard with a laundry basket. She made a slight gesture of respect with her head as she caught sight of you. You observed that she was walking with a slight limp. She seemed to be in pain.

“Tullia, your leg seems to be bothering you."

She put the basket down and let out a sigh. “My knees, my lady. I guess it's because I'm too old now.”

"Let me take a look," you said gently, walking over to her. Despite her objection, you helped her sit down in the chair and examined her knees. Given her late fifties age, you diagnosed her with rheumatism, given her late fifties age.

"I think I know what will be good for you," you said, walking to your private clinic-like room. Tullia's eyes widened when you returned with the hemlock jar.

“Isn't this herb poisonous?”

You smiled. “Yes, and potentially deadly.” You teased her.

“Gods, my lady, please forgive me if I've made a mistake.” She placed her hand on her chest.

“Please calm yourself, Tullia. It is indeed a very poisonous plant. However, it is also very useful to the body. I'll make you a tea of this, you drink it every other day, understood?’"

She was still looking at you weirdly.

You laughed. “You do trust me, do you not?”

She nodded.  "I am grateful to you, my lady, for ensuring General's safe return to his home. So, I have great trust in you.”

You smiled. ”I imagine you must have known him for quite some time.”

"That's correct. I've been fortunate to reside in this villa for as long as I can remember."

"I see. Then you knew Marcus's father, the Dominus'?"

"Yes, my lady.”

She had been with him for many years, residing in this villa. She had likely witnessed his childhood, his youth, his unhappy marriage, everything. You felt a bit envious of her, as though she knew more about him than you know about Marcus. But you were also grateful for her loyalty over the years.

“It's the first time I've seen him alive,” she said, surprising you.

“How do you mean?” You demanded.

"Dominus. He would prefer us not to call him that, not after his father. I must say that after you came into his life, I felt like I didn't know him.  He was rather solemn, and it was rare to see him smile. But now I see that he's really alive. It's so pleasant to see him like that. I'm really grateful for that, my lady."

You put a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm grateful that you have cared for him over the years, that you have served him, that you have looked after him."

She put her hand on yours. "It is my duty," she said, smiling softly.

“Domina!"

You both turned your heads to the slave who came running towards you.

“My Lady, the Imperial guard has arrived.”

You inhaled. "Am I being summoned?"

The slave looked at you with hesitation and bowed his head, which meant affirmative. Decima came to stand beside you. "Shall I come with you?"

You grasped her hand. “Yes, please.”

It was your brother Geta who summoned you this time. You weren't particularly curious, but you felt it would be a good idea to pay him a visit. You couldn't help but feel a little concerned about him, though. Besides, it seemed like a good idea to stop by the poorhouse on the way back. You were keen to find out how the children are doing, since you missed them. By the time the imperial carriage arrived at Palatine Hill, it was already late afternoon. You came to realise that you didn't miss wearing stola much since it was difficult to get used to the feeling of being tangled in their feet. And the knife Marcus gave you wasn't helping at all. It seemed a little odd to wear it on your ankle when you couldn't actually use it properly, but you had promised him after all. Geta was waiting for you in the great courtyard. When he realised you, he came running to you with a wide smile, his arms outstretched.

"Aurelia, you've been missed, sister!" He embraced you. You flinch every time he does this, but he deliberately ignores it.

"I'm really curious to know why you called me here."

"Come, let's talk while we drink. Shall we?" He led you to an armchair in the courtyard. You sat down next to him, and adjusted your dress to cover the knife on your leg.

"Wine," Geta ordered the slaves.

One of the slaves poured you a glass of wine. Decima was standing right next to you.

"So, you ordered the guards to send food to the Poorhouse," Geta said, taking a sip of his wine.

You brought your glass to your lips, but the smell was unappealing, so you put it on the table, and pushed it forward with your fingers.

"I did. Or, are you angry with me for this?"

Geta laughed. "I can't possibly be angry with you. However, I believe this is an unnecessary expense."

You glared at him. "Surely it's not as unnecessary as a tiger?"

"At least the tiger entertains us, sister. What is so interesting about those people? Nothing. I have not yet informed Caracalla of this, so you'd better end it before he becomes aware of it."

You leaned towards him. "You are not fully aware of the gravity of the situation, so you speak with undue levity. Would you be willing to abandon those children to their fate?”

He exhaled loudly. He pretended not to care, but he was thinking.

"If you'd like, I can show you. Caracalla doesn't need to know. Trust me, it's a lot cheaper than what you spend on other unnecessary things.”

"No way I'm going there!"

You sighed and stood up. "You do as you wish," you said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I was just considering paying a visit there." You glanced at him, took a step forward. He stood up too, grabbing your arm from behind.

"You've only just arrived, stay a little longer." He sounded like he was begging. He was looking at you in a strange way, you averted your gaze.

"I'm a married woman, I have responsibilities. And those children are one of them." You looked at him again. "As Emperor, you have responsibilities as well. They are your people too. You could come with me and see for yourself. If you are not convinced, I will not bring it up again. I promise."

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, you win. I'm coming with you.”

He stepped towards to the entrance, but you stopped him by tugging on his arm. "Perhaps you might like to consider changing your attire?" You asked, running your eyes over his fancy toga.

"What's in my attire?" He looked down at himself.

"Well. Your bronze crown, your gold embroidered toga, your gold bracelets, necklaces, and rings, need I say more?’

"Or do you want me to dress like a commoner? Never!" He frowned.

You rolled your eyes at him. It was futile to try to persuade this stubborn boy. So, you gave up. "Very well, as you wish, Your Majesty.”

His frown vanished and he smirked.

As you made your way across the courtyard towards the gate, you became aware of a few murmurs and turned your head in that direction. A group of people were heading into the great hall. Their attire differed from that of the members of the Senate.

"I had completely forgotten they were coming today," he said.

'Is there an official meeting with Caracalla?'

“Our relatives,” he murmured.

You regarded him with a look of surprise. “You were correct in your assumption,” he said, observing them from a distance. “The execution of Gaius has caused some distress within the dynasty in Leptis Magna. They have come here to speak with the emperor.”

"And what about you? You are the emperor as well."

He shrugged slightly. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure he will make a decision similar to the one I would have made."

"Which is...?"

Geta's face suddenly became serious. Without answering, he pulled you towards the gates roughly. But you clearly heard the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from the hall. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Did he murder them?” Your voice cracked.

He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you into the carriage. "They killed themselves at the very moment they set foot in Rome, Aurelia.”

It seemed that Decima was attempting to sit next to you, but he indicated the seat opposite. He then sat right next to you. You couldn't focus on them staring at each other, the screams still echoing in your ears, and continued to torture you all the way. All this brutality felt so wrong.

When you arrived at the Poorhouse, the children noticed you and ran towards you with huge, beaming smiles on their faces, gathering around you with cheerful laughter.

“Princess Aurelia!”

You smiled at them. They then looked curiously at your emperor brother, who was standing behind you. The guards approached Geta, looking a little wary. Geta covered his nose with his hand. With a somewhat displeased expression on his face he extended his arm towards them as if warning them.

“Don't you dare come near me!” He yelled.

“They're just children,” you muttered.

“But, they're filthy,” he grimaced.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the boy you had met earlier. It seemed that the mother and baby were doing better. You asked Decima to bring your bag and, as Medicus, you examined the woman and her breast milk, which was now coming in. Geta observed you as you treated a few wounded and sick people. He maintained his distance, of course. Since these people had only seen his face from a great distance before, their jaws were dropped open when he appeared before them in all his majesty.

The provisions have been brought as you requested. But it didn't seem to be enough to feed these people, yet they were happy and grateful.

"I should also provide some new clothes for them," you said, approaching Geta.

He folded his arms and looked them up and down. His expression had become somewhat more gentle, as though he was lost in thought. He seemed to be deeply affected by the unfortunate situation he had witnessed.

"You were right after all," he murmured. "They really do look rather poorly."

You looked at him. "Your Majesty, you have decided to extend a helping hand to these people?"

He locked eyes with you for a moment, his expression hard to decipher, but he seemed happy. Then he cleared his throat. "I would never allow them to pollute the streets of Rome." He turned to one of the guards. "Do as Princess Aurelia says. Make sure you provide what is needed here. And if you dare to speak to my brother about this, I will have your tongue cut out myself.”

The guard bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you, brother. I believe there may be some good in you after all."

He frowned. "I'm not sure if that's meant as an insult or a compliment."

“Perhaps both.” You stuck your tongue out at him and laughed. You were just trying to make him laugh and your intentions were innocent. But he wasn't laughing. In fact, he was looking at you seriously in a way you'd never seen him before.

"Don't laugh at me like that." His voice was sharper than his gaze. “As if you don't belong to someone else.”

You swallowed, his eyes looking at you with a dangerous intensity. You averted your eyes.

“My lady,” Decima came to your side. She was holding a bowl, without even turning your head, you could smell what was in it. The smell of meat was intense. You felt like your stomach was cramping.

“Hot, freshly prepared food has arrived, the children are eating. Would you like to have some too?”

Instinctively you covered your nose with your hand. "No, Decima, could you keep that bowl away from me?"

"Ah, it seems we have some things in common after all. I think it looks disgusting too." Geta said with a displeased expression. "Well, I think I've seen enough, I want to leave now." He turned towards the carriage.

He raised his hand and beckoning you to join him. As it was nearing dusk, you were keen to return home, so you nodded in agreement. However, as you began to walk towards him, your vision blurred, and your feet betrayed you, causing you to collapse on the ground. When your cheek touched the cold cobblestone, you felt a severe headache. Then everything went black. The last thing you remember was Decima and Geta's concerned voices mixed together with the voices of children.

You felt slight shaking of your body, which prompted you to wake up. Your headache was still present, opened your eyes slowly. The first thing you saw were the golden curtains glimmering by moonlight, which entered through the long window. Next to the window was an armchair with golden details. It seemed as though everything in the room had a golden hue. You realized that you had been in this room before. You were beginning to regain consciousness. You then sat up.

"Sister, I hope you are feeling a little better?"

You opened your eyes wide and looked at Geta, who was lying next to you. On the bed. His bed. You let out a scream in shock. He flinched.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?” You quickly checked yourself over. Your clothes had been took off, and you were wearing a white, almost see-through tunic that didn't just belong to you. “What happened to my clothes?” You yelled.

Geta covered his ears with his hands. “Ugh! Could you please stop screaming? You're hurting my ears!”

“What have you done to me?”

He laughed loudly and hysterically. "Apart from making you clean up and bring it to my room? What was I supposed to do? You collapsed on that awful, stinking street. Should I have let you stay in your filthy clothes? It was gross, so I had them thrown away."

The slaves must have dressed you, at least that was a relief. But you were still very angry that you had been put in this embarrassing situation. You realised that his eyes were roaming over you. You grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to your neck, covering your body.

“Get me some decent clothes now!” Your voice was slightly trembling with anxiety.

Geta raised his eyebrows, he pointed his index finger at himself. “Did you actually say that to me? You have no manners at all. You don't know how to talk to an emperor.” He teased.

You moaned in response, placed your head in your hands and rested on your knees.

“Please, call Decima over here.”

"I want to know why you fainted. Tell me, are you sick?"

He touched your shoulder, you pulled yourself back and got out of bed. It is almost nighttime now. The mere thought of Marcus coming to Domus Severiana and seeing you like this made you shiver.

"Girl!" Geta yelled towards the door.

Decima and Geta's slave entered the room together, both looking at you with concern.

"Make sure you dress the princess properly. Otherwise she'll be torturing my ears with her squeaky voice all night." He said, squinting at you.

You ignored him. When the girl left the room to bring you a stola, Decima came over and held your hands.

"Are you alright? You frightened me.”

"I'm fine, but we should return to the villa now."

‘"Indeed, you've been unconscious for a while, it's almost midnight."

"Midnight?" You bit your lip.

Now that was something to worry about. You were sure Marcus would be here soon. Luckily the slave girl came with a stola and began to dress you. You heard footsteps and then a knock on the door.

Geta was still sitting on the bed, wine in his hand. With his permission, a slave boy who came in looked scared. “Your Highness, my lady. General Acacius-“

“Aurelia!”

Marcus's booming voice made you feel like you were on the verge of fainting again.

Geta grinned. "This is going to be fun."

You warned him as he was leaving the room. "Please don't say anything ridiculous to him.”

He shrugged. With your heart beating like it was going to burst out of your chest, you urged the girls to hurry up. Geta left the room. You tensed up even more when you heard him calling his name. Finally, the girls finished dressing you as quickly as they could, and you left the room, heading for the stairs with Decima who was trying to catch up with you. As you descended the stairs, you saw him and locked eyes with Marcus. He observed you with a keen gaze. You bit your bottom lip. He then looked at the stairs that belonged to Geta's chamber, then at Geta himself. Suddenly he grabbed Geta's collar with his fists, causing everyone to become tense.

"Have you gone mad Acacius? What do you think you're doing?” Geta barked.

“Marcus!” You ran towards them.

The guards drew their swords.

“What have you done to my wife?” He roared.

“Get your hands off me now!” Geta warned.

“Marcus, please, it's not what you think.” You grabbed his big hands and tried to pull them away from your brother's collar, but it was like moving a marble statue.

“You don't seem to be taking good care of your wife like you promised.”

Marcus tightened his grip and shook him angrily. “What are you saying?”

The guards approached the two of them, their swords pointed at Marcus.

“General Acacius, I warn you.” One of the guards said.

Marcus ignored him, his dark eyes locked on Geta’s.

“Your wife fainted in the middle of the street. I wonder if you were aware that she's been sick.’’

Marcus then withdrew his hands, released him. You exhaled in relief. Geta ordered the guards to put their swords away.

Marcus stepped towards you. "Is that true?" He sounded concerned, touching your face with his hands.

You grasped his hand. "I felt unwell for a moment, but I'm fine now."

Marcus observed your face a little more. Then put his arm around you and glared at Geta. "We shall take our leave now."

Geta shouted behind you two. "You're not even going to ask for my forgiveness, Acacius?"

Marcus answered without looking at him. "With all my heart, no."

You turned your head and looked over your shoulder at Geta. He looked angry and annoyed. You gave him a faint smile.

"Your Highness, shall we stop him?" One of the guards gripped his sword once more.

"Just give us the order, Your Highness."

"Shut the hell up! Leave me alone, all of you! Get out of my sight!" He shouted at them and walked towards his chamber. Caracalla watched the whole thing from a distance, he was looking at his brother coming up.

"You're so pathetic." Caracalla chastised.

"Don't you start!" Geta barked at him, walked towards his room, and slammed the door.

It was well after midnight by the time you arrived back at the villa. Marcus still seemed a little tense, which made you wonder what he was thinking. He was looking at your ankle as you walked to your room. He stopped in front of the door.

“I do not see your knife.”

You looked at him, you had no clue.

“Here, sir,” Decima said. She came up the stairs and stood beside you. She was holding your scabbard in her hand. She handed it to you. “After you fainted-“ She avoided Marcus's stern gaze, turning her eyes to you. “I'm the one who dressed you so I kept this.”

“Thank you, Decima.”

She smiled. “If you'll excuse me, sir, my lady,” she bowed and turned to head for the stairs.

Marcus closed the door behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and guided you to sit on the bed, then sat down next to you.

"My love. Are you sure you're feeling well?" His hands touching all over your face.

How can I possibly feel bad when you touch me like this? You thought.

"I suppose I do not need to bring a Medicus for you?” He smirked. “So, what is your diagnosis, lady medicus?”

You smiled. “Hmm, I think I became a little nervous when I-“ You swallowed.

“Continue, please.”

"Caracalla. He had our relatives from Leptis Magna killed. I didn't see them, but I heard them…”

Marcus frowned, clenched his hand into a fist and pressed it to his forehead. He then closed his eyes. “That scum. He must be out of his mind for sure.”

You put your hand on his shoulder. "How do you mean?”

He then stood up. You went over him, untying the strings of his armour.

"Macrinus. He has a majority in the Senate. He managed to eliminate Gaius and his supporters. Caracalla is his instrument. It is likely that he will announce him Commander of the Praetorian (Imperial) Guards imminently. I should have killed him last night." He banged his fist on his desk, almost startling you.

You took a deep breath. “Then why did he go to Libya?” You helped him take off his armour.

"I believe there is a possibility that he is raising his own army. I haven't heard from the legions in that area for some time now."

"His own army?" You shocked. You hadn't realised how serious things were.

"If my suspicions are correct, yes. He also would want to incorporate the southern legions into his own as well."

"Your legions?"

“I'm afraid so.” He turned his head towards you. "I may have to go there soon."

You cringed and your chest hurt. You weren't expecting this at all.

Marcus realised the look on your face and put his arms around you. "I'll have to kill him sooner or later. And them too." His voice was sharp.

Surely you were aware of whom he was referring to.

“I will not waste another generation of young men on their arrogance and vanity. I will not allow Macrinus to use your brothers' trust and start a civil war that will harm Rome.”

“Caracalla, yes, but maybe Geta-“ the words seemed to stick in your throat.

"Are you defending him to me?"

"Absolutely not." You shook your head. "I was just thinking he might make a good emperor.”

"Please Aurelia. I assume you're not meant seriously.”

"He's not like Caracalla. I believe you are aware of that. I don't think you are truly inclined to kill him."

"I was considering it. When I saw you coming out of his chamber..." He pursed his lips, trying to be calm.

You tensed as you remembered that moment. "I'm truly sorry about that." You bowed your head. Marcus placed his hand under your chin and gently lifted your face to look at your eyes.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" His brown eyes were almost black.

"No, Marcus. Of course not."

He grabbed your face in his big hands, pulled you towards him, you stumbled with the sudden rush of his. "I am the only one who can touch you. You are my Aurelia. Mine."

"I am indeed, Marcus.”

"Say it," he demanded. "Say that you're mine. I want to hear it from your lips."

"I am yours." You said softly.

He smirked and bent his head, kissing you roughly almost forcefully. His skillful hands were not gentle while undressing you in a hurry. When you were completely naked, he scooped you up and put you on the bed. In the blink of an eye he was on top of you and then inside you. While he’s having you roughly, his lips, his tongue, his teeth travelled over every possible part of your flesh. Marking you. As if physically claiming you. Making you his.

The sun had just risen when you opened your eyes. But it wasn't its light that woke you. It was the sudden pain in your stomach and the feeling like you'd been punched. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to suppress the urge to vomit. You hurried out of Marcus' arms and ran to the latrina. He was roused from his slumber by the sound of the door closing with a resounding bang.

“Aurelia?”

You were too distracted by feeling unwell to focus on his concerned voice. You splashed water on your face to feel better after violently throwing up. Suddenly you felt Marcus's hands on your shoulders. “My love?”

Your stomach was still causing you pain and you found it difficult to speak. Also, your head was spinning, so you took a moment to lean against the wall. Marcus quickly took you into his arms and carried you to the bed, sitting next to you.

“My lady, I'm really starting to worry now.”

“No, please don't. If I get some rest, I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He took your hand in his hands.

You nodded and smiled at him. But his face showed concern.

“Perhaps I could stay here with you today.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Cato came in with Marcus's permission. He gave you both a nod. “Sir, I am here to inform you that the soldiers you have been expecting from the south have entered the city at dawn. The Legates have requested an immediate assembly.”

"Is that so? At last, some good news." He said, then looked at you with uncertain eyes.

You smiled at him and touched his hand with yours. "Please do not concern yourself with my well-being. Just leave. It must be important."

He leaned towards you and kissed you on the forehead. "Have a good rest, my love. And please be well." He kissed your hand before leaving the room with Cato.

After a while there was a knock on the door again. Decima brought breakfast for you.

"My lady, are you feeling better?"

"I believe so."

She approached your bedside. "Would you like me to feed you?”

You laughed. “Dear, please. Hopefully I'm not in a situation that requires me to be fed." You got out of bed and walked towards to the chair. You weren't exactly starving, but you knew you needed to eat to feel strong. You asked Decima to join you.

"My lady, well I am. I've been thinking it over.”

“Hmm?”

"This nausea you're feeling, the headaches. I wonder if...’ When she looked at you suggestively, you swallowed and looked at her, taken aback.

You'd never thought of that. As a medicus, you were confident that you didn't have any other underlying health issues. On top of that, it had been a few weeks since the wedding and you hadn't had any monthly bleeding since then.

"Gods," you murmured. "Could it really be?”

Decima took your hands, seemed excited. "I think so. Have you ever examined a woman carrying a child?"

"No, I've only assisted women in labour. I know how to run a consultation though. But it's still too early to be certain."

Decima smiled widely. "I hope you're with child."

You couldn't help smiling back. "I hope that too. But we should keep this between us for now."

"Indeed, of course.”

“Domina!” came a voice from behind the door.

“Come in.”

The slave boy from yesterday came in, his face was worried again.

“Am I being summoned again? Please tell them I'm sick and having rest.”

"You're not being summoned, my lady.”

“What's the matter, then?”

He bowed his head, as if he didn't know what to say.

“Tell me.” You demanded.

“If you can come down, you'd better see for yourself.”

You exchanged glances with Decima, then got up and left the room. As you were making your way down the stairs, you almost lost your footing when you saw the person standing in the courtyard.

“Lady Domna?”

Julia was waiting by the fountain in a black cloak. She looked a bit worried and uneasy.

"May I ask what you're doing here?"

"We need to talk." She said in a commanding tone.

You suddenly felt tense as you remembered your last conversation with her. What the hell was she doing here?

'Do you usually keep your guests waiting without offering them a seat?'

You rolled your eyes and gestured to the armchair nearby. “Have a seat.”

She sat down in a rather arrogant manner. “Leave us,” she told your slaves. But they were looking at you. Julia was annoyed.

You sat opposite her. “Leave us alone please," you said the slaves with a smile. They then bowed their heads and left the courtyard. Decima too, she nodded.

"Your slaves don't know how to behave." She muttered.

"Could you please tell me why are you here? I thought you were in Syria?"

"I've recently returned. Never mind that. I need you to help me with something."

"My help? Why should I help you?"

"Because I believe you would want to.”

You crossed your arms. "What are you talking about? Speak clearly, please."

Julia sighed. Then leaned closer to you with a sharp gaze, whispering. "I need you to help me kill Caracalla.”

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[mitraoki]

genshin men brainrot!

note; just something to ease my way back into writing. i truly miss it a lot - considering how much i abandoned it during my recent semester(⊙_⊙;) i hope you guys enjoy it!

cw; a little suggestive, they're just smitten for u, violence but against other people!!

masterlist.

+ wriothesley has this thing where he likes being yanked by the tie. only from his beloved, of course. someone else comes into play and he’s choking them next. the way your fingers wrapped around the fabric, twisting them around your fist, bringing him in closer till your foreheads touch, and your breathing syncopates with his. whether it's for fun, or when the two of you are left alone in his office, that little smirk is painted across his face and the next thing you know, he's smothering you with kisses.

"someone's needy. not complaining, just anticipating is all."

+ on stressful days, alhaitham forgets reality. no, it's not the kind where he forgets to eat or drink, it's the kind where he becomes a full time machine. all he does is take orders, execute them perfectly, and tend to the various other tasks piling up on his desk. for someone always assuring you that his workload isn't as concerning as you thought it was; it was fearsome to see his questionable demeanor when he meets up with you in public. though, it all comes to end when the two of you are alone - did you flip a switch in him or something? - he's wrapping his arms around your figure from behind, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and whispering continuous apologies.

"...what can i do to make it up to you?" + neuvilette loves giving you gifts. it was that one time when you'd mentioned you loved the way he crafted it from scratch, bringing his ideas to life. in a way, it's another huge step for him to understand the little things of a human's life; and you were his number one supporter. there he sits during his free time, getting ideas from some of the melusines about what he should give you next. he takes notes of your likes and dislikes very quickly, but everything has to be perfect, just for you. anything to see that smile of yours bloom time and time again.

"if one's not enough, perhaps i can get you tons more! ....no such thing, this was a piece of cake."

+ kaveh loves styling your hair. he's definitely not the kind to judge the length of your hair - he can work with anything you prefer to have. from hair clips to peonies - his skillful fingers work through your locks, getting them done in a jiffy. he makes sure to not hurt you in the process, too. sometimes he even comes home with a new collection of hair clips, claiming that 'it would definitely look good in your hair!' every single time he finishes, he makes sure to get a good look at you, admiring every facial feature of yours. it ends up making you feel flustered, but he's just so in love with you. just what did he do to have such a lover like you...?

"as beautiful as always, my love."

+ not everyday is sunshine and rainbows for ayato. there were even times where your hand would reach out for nothing but a note on your shared bed, stating that he was off to settle yet another matter which frankly, did not require him at all. it was just regulations he had to follow. though you could see the slight changes in his handwriting, indicating that he wrote them all with a heavy heart. except for the 'i love you.' he wrote that with ease, a reassurance that he will return to your arms. when he does, he swings you around, pulling you in for the biggest embrace. he peppers kisses along the bridge of your nose, lingering around your lips, trailing them down to your chin, your neck. any place he could catch a glimpse of in the moment.

"i've never cursed at time as much as i did today. i hope it treats us well tonight."

all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.

[helaintoloki]

hi can you do a ben hargreeves angst where klaus is still able to see him in season 3 and he sees how close y/n has gotten to ben sparrow you can do whatever you want with it

warnings: language, lots of angst

notes: okay i actually loved writing this you are a genius for coming up with this scenario

summary: Ben is forced to watch you fall for a completely different version of him

Ben once thought having to watch the woman you love live her life without knowing you looked on as a spirit incapable of communicating with her was the worst fate imaginable.

But he was wrong.

Watching the woman you love grow close to another version of you while you can do absolutely nothing to interfere was more torturous than any other possible outcome.

Ben absolutely loathed the Sparrow with his entire being. He couldn’t understand why you would even consider trying to get to know the man- he was a complete jerk, absolutely hostile, and not at all understanding or compassionate to the dilemma your team found yourselves in. Ben also thought his haircut was stupid, and the Sparrow’s demeanor gave the ghost a sense of second-hand embarrassment every time he talked.

And yet you were drawn to the man like a magnet, and how could you not be? He looked and sounded exactly like what you imagined your Ben would have if he had survived the accident and been able to grown into an adult alongside you. Despite his callousness and his blatant lack of trust in you, you were eager to learn more. Did he like the same things your Ben did? Did they share the same interests? Were their mannerisms the same? You desperately needed to know, and the Sparrow did not deny you this. Though he held a certain sense of disdain for your team, he wasn’t prideful enough to turn down the company of a pretty girl who seemed to follow him around like a lost puppy. He took advantage of your kindness and your vulnerability, and your Ben hated that he could do absolutely nothing to stop this.

You sit on a lone bench and watch as the Sparrow completes his workout for the day. He’s allowed you to tag along so long as you don’t get in the way, and you agreed. You’re completely mesmerized by his toned arms and grunts of effort that escape his lips as he lifts weights, and Ben can only roll his eyes.

“Seriously? This guy?” He asks you in exasperation, but of course, you don’t hear him at all. This doesn’t deter him from continuing his attempt to persuade you to stay away from the Sparrow. “You are way too good for an asshole like him. He’s just using you to feed his ego!”

“Do you like to read?” You ask the man as he sets down his weights and reaches for his towel to wipe off the sweat from his brow.

“Read?” He retorts haughtily, almost offended by the notion. “What am I, a nerd?”

Ben knows neither of you can see him, and yet he flips the man off anyway in response to his answer. Your shoulders visibly deflate at his words, and the ghost can only frown and attempt to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. It goes right through you, the coldness prompting you to shiver involuntarily, but it makes him feel better to know you can at least sense him in some way.

“My Ben liked reading, so I just thought maybe you would too,” you offer meekly, prompting the Sparrow to roll his eyes.

“Alright, new rule. You wanna hangout with me? Then don’t bring up ‘your’ Ben. Got it?”

“Right, sorry,” you murmur quietly while awkwardly fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. You hover over the one on your index, the purple gem gleaming in the light. Ben knows that ring because he gave you that ring, and that’s why it nearly kills him all over again when he watches you hurriedly remove it and hide it away in the pocket of your sweater.

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for being you,” he gently reprimands you with a sigh before focusing his harsh gaze on his lookalike. “And you should stop being a dick to quite possibly the nicest girl you’ll ever meet. You don’t deserve her, and I’ll never understand why the universe decided you should get to have her.”

Of course, his lecture is unheard and has no impact on the scene that unfolds before him. He watches in gut wrenching agony as the Sparrow seats himself beside you on the bench, his rough hand coming to rest gently upon your thigh and squeezing to get your attention. Your eyes almost seem to sparkle as you look up at him in search of validation for your efforts to get to know him. There’s a shift in the air that fills Ben with dread, and despite all his efforts to stop it he can do nothing to prevent your lips from meeting the man’s in a purposeful kiss.

Your heart flutters in your chest as the Sparrow pulls away and carefully tucks your hair behind your ear, his voice coming out in a soft whisper as he says, “You’re with me now. Forget about him.”

And to Ben’s absolute horror, you obediently offer a silent nod in agreement to his command.

[catbolt]

— PRETTY

[SOUNDTRACK] Pretty - The Weeknd || ▶︎

Sylus doesn't take breakups lying down. Well... maybe lying on top of you.

[TAGS] sylus x female mc, angst, smut, rough sex, ex-boyfriend!Sylus, cheating (with him) (on Zayne eek), dubcon sorta, choking, Evol, mentions of blood, glasses sylus bc it's soooo hot

[A/N] my debut fic for LADS (have not written for genuinely years so forgive any rustiness, first time doing any smut also, so i was frankly a bit light with it.) More angst than smut tbh as that is my comfort zone hehe. 100% inspired by "pretty" by the weeknd from my sylus playlist

plz reblog and share or comment if you want! Feel free to leave any thoughts or feedback as this is my first time writing in a while :)

[WC] 5.1k

songfic 1/?

Sylus’ call comes unexpectedly. As his calls always did, but especially this time, considering the last time they talked she had cursed him out and damn near trashed his house, saying she was done, telling him to delete her number. He had sat on the couch with an impassive stare, arms crossed, legs splayed leisurely, completely silent. This had just enraged her even further, and she had thrown a pillow at him, desperate for some kind of reaction. He had caught it and set it down next to him calmly, continuing to refuse to give her even a morsel of proof he cared.

Whatever the two of them had had, it was over. She thought she had made that extremely clear. So her eyebrows furrow in confusion and annoyance when his name comes up on her phone screen. Sylus wouldn’t be the type to beg for her back, so what could he possibly be calling her for? Especially when he knew she was going on an out of town mission?

Especially when he knew Zayne was on this mission with her?

Against her better judgment, she accepts the call and leans back in her chair in her hotel room, mouth drawing into an irritated grimace. “What.”

The line crackles with his dark, familiar laughter. “Hello to you too.” “Talk,” she spits.

“I’m on a flight,” he says. “To where you are. I’ll be landing in an hour. Let’s see each other.”

“I don’t think so,” she retorts immediately, seething  at his audacity-- how he could possibly be calling her right now as if what had happened last week was nothing. 

“Ah. Let me rephrase. That wasn’t a question,” he says sternly. “I will be seeing you when I land. Consider this a courtesy heads-up.”

“You don’t know where I am,” she responds. “I am not seeing you. It’s late and I have work tomorrow.” “Don’t piss me off.” He snarls. “I don’t like being underestimated. I obviously know exactly where you are.”

She grits her teeth, realizing she should have anticipated that, but quickly regains her composure. She’s used to the back and forth with him. “Don’t tell me you came all this way to see me.” “Of course not,” he says coldly. “I’m here on business. I just happen to have a free night.” His voice softens. “And I’d like to spend it with you.”

Her hands curl into fists. “Don’t act like I didn’t tell you to your face to never contact me again. What the hell are you doing?”

Sylus doesn’t respond for a moment, and then the silence is broken with his chuckle. “You didn’t block me. So it seems you weren’t as adamant about that as you acted.”

Her cheeks redden with shame. He’s obviously right, she didn’t block him-- something had stopped her, even though she knew she should have. In the back of her mind, she had maybe fantasized about him calling her desperately, apologizing, begging for her back, and her crushing his hopes coldly like he had done to her so many times before.

“It doesn’t matter. You know I’m with Zayne now,” she says matter-of-factly. “You have no right to see me. I’m with somebody else.”

“I said don’t piss me off,” he bites, the simmer of irritation beginning to seep into his voice. It gives her a shiver of satisfaction knowing that she’s able to get under his skin even just a little. She leans into the receiver. “In fact, I was just on my way to his place now. It was a long day... we definitely both need to rest up together.”

The line falls quiet, and then Sylus finally replies, voice icy and measured. “You can’t possibly think I’m buying that, are you? Please, princess. I told you I’ll be there in an hour. Doll yourself up for me. I’ll take you out.”

The line drops. She scoffs, shaking her head. She’s pissed that he saw through her lie about Zayne-- he’s still working late, and there’s no way she’ll be seeing him tonight. She wonders what gave it away. Was it that he’s got men spying on them, or was it that her voice betrayed a hint of halfheartedness when she lied?

Her heart thuds, and her mind snaps back to the situation at hand. One hour. She sits still in the seat, completely unsure of her next move. Deep down she knows whether she likes it or not, Sylus will be on her doorstep right when he said he would. It’d be fruitless to attempt to escape him when he has eyes everywhere. So her plan... should be to fend him off. 

Her resolve was always weak when it came to that, but she tries to steel herself, taking deep breaths, recounting all the times he had ignored her, pushed her aside, forgotten about her. She tries to channel that resentment into a cold hard shell around her. She won’t be weak again. Not now. Not when she’s found someone good and kind who’s shown her that she’s worth time and effort. She won’t “doll herself up” for him. It’s her turn to show she doesn’t care.

The hour ticks by in a second, and there’s a steady knock on her door. Her heart sinks-- she had hoped that somehow his plans would have been foiled by some unexpected flight delay, but he was right on time as always. She sits still on the corner of her bed, unmoving. 

“Don’t make me pick the lock,” he chides softly. His voice is muffled through the wood, but the gleam of amusement shines through. She buries her face in her palms for a moment, and then slowly walks up to open the door just a crack. 

He pushes it fully open with a strong hand, smirk playing on his lips already as he looks down at her. “Still in your uniform,” he chides. “You want to wear that?”

“You are not taking me out.” She responds coldly, turning to walk over and sit at the coffee table again, not meeting his gaze. She needs to maintain distance. 

“If you’d rather stay here, we could make that work.” Sylus shuts the door quietly behind him and then leans his back against it, posture casual in a way that sends a spike of annoyance through her. This is why they broke up in the first place-- he was always so motherfucking casual about everything, even her, face betraying not a sliver of his true feelings. 

“What do you even want from me?” She snaps, eyes glued to the coffee table. Anything to avoid looking at him. “I told you I’m with someone else. I’m not interested in restarting anything with you.”

“When did I say anything about that?” He chuckles, clearing the room in a few swift strides and sitting on the loveseat opposite her. He’s wearing a casual sweater and sweatpants-- even his glasses, which he usually doesn’t. His hair is mussed up a bit, and she notices light bags under his eyes that give her pause. Something’s definitely up. She doesn’t know what, but doesn’t want to ask. She can’t invite more conversation if her goal is to get him out of this room. 

“I just want to take you out,” he murmurs, head now resting in his hand. “Is that a crime?” “Yes, when I’m spoken for by another man, it is.” She glares at him. “What about me being with someone else do you not understand?” “Does he make you feel pretty?” Sylus drawls, red eyes flickering with a hint of contempt. Her breath catches slightly, not anticipating the question. “What--”

“Does he?” Sylus pushes, leaning forward in his seat. “Does he make you feel beautiful?” “I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“No.” he cuts her off. “He doesn’t.” 

She’s stunned into silence. He leans back again, chuckling and pushing up his glasses, a motion that unfortunately sends a familiar fire coursing down her body, through her chest to her abdomen. “You didn’t fight me when I came in. You didn’t yell, or tell me to leave. That tells me all I need to know, love.”

“Don’t call me that,” she sneers back. 

Suddenly Sylus’ hand is gripping her chin hard, forcing her head to meet his eyes. He’s closer than she had realized, his eyes staring deep into her own. “He can’t make you feel this pretty,” Sylus rumbles, his thumb tracing her jaw, expression an inscrutable mask. 

In a moment, she finds herself sprawled out on the hotel bed before she can think. His Evol-- he can throw her around how he pleases, she reminds herself, mind flashing with memories she’s tried to forget of all the compromising positions her body’s been twisted into at his whim. He’s standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed across his chest as he looks down at her. She feels the heat of his gaze like two laser pointers as they examine her, lingering on every part of her. It's as if she’s under a scientist’s microscope. His gaze is unfeeling, but still somehow red-hot, and she can’t help the way her chest heaves up and down, feeling so observed.

He takes note of her body’s involuntary reaction. “He can’t make you feel like this by just looking at you, can he doll?”

“Fuck you,” she barks, face flushed with shame as she backs up on the bed, increasing the distance between the two. He smirks. “You’d like to?”

She rolls her eyes. “Is that what you’re here for? Sex?”

“No,” he muses, sitting down at the corner of the bed, looking at her. “Though I’m not opposed. I wanted to see you. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Her breath is coming out ragged. She can’t hide her anger much longer. “How are you acting like nothing happened? We--I-- I don’t love you! I don’t want you! What about that is so hard for you to understand?”

“Liar,” he hums in a sing-song tone, brow quirking as he meets your harsh stare cooly. “I don’t understand it because it’s a lie, sweetie. If I touched you right now your body would tell me the truth. But I already know it.” His face is smug. She wants to slap him.

“Just-- just because I might still be attracted to you doesn’t mean I would ever do anything with you again, Sylus. I have morals,” she spits.

In a red flash, he’s on top of her, a finger pressed into the center of her chest, other hand braced on the headboard. Her body convulses involuntarily in shock of his sudden proximity as well as the feeling of his skin-- even just his fingertip-- pressed against her.

He grins at her reaction. “That’s my girl.” 

“Get the fuck off me,” she hisses up at him. He lowers himself so his lips touch her earlobe, so his chest is pressed against hers. “No,” he whispers simply.

At this distance, she can see even more strikingly the weariness in his features. His skin is rough. His eyes are tired. There’s a small pimple on his cheek, a hint at the fact he must have been skipping his skincare routine that he’s always been so adamant about staying on top of.

For a moment she relishes in the thought that his undone-ness is because of her. Her instincts get the better of her, and she ensnares a fist in his sweater, pulling him down even lower, tilting her head to whisper in his ear, now--

“You look like shit. Are you sad about me?”

He reels back in surprise, eyes clouding for the first time with something other than smugness, brows momentarily twitching, betraying his facade. His hand wraps around her throat, holding her into the pillow, the touch gentle but forceful. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds her steady. His mask is on before she can double back.

“Can’t a man have an off day?” he chides her. “Maybe I haven’t slept so well. I was just on a long flight. Sue me.”

“Doesn’t look like it was just a day,” she responds instantly. “Looks like an off month. Are you finally regretting being a dick?”

He sneers, hand twitching around her throat, but he remains gentle. “I’m not a dick.”

“You are a huge fucking dick,” she spits back. He leans back off her, rising into a kneeling position, smirking down at her, releasing his hand from her neck It’s then she realizes she’s been holding her breath even though he hadn’t been choking her.

“Then why are you still lying here under me? If I’m such a dick?” 

“You’re just gonna use your Evol to put me back. It’s no use fighting you,” she retorts, but inwardly she knows she could have at least tried to struggle, shame rising in her stomach. 

“I’m not buying that, sweetheart.” He absentmindedly hooks a finger in the top of her uniform and pops the top button open with one hand. Her face flushes involuntarily at the gesture. “W-what are you doing?”

“Seeing how long it’ll take you to shove me off. If you really do hate me so much as you say.” He murmurs, finger sliding down to pop open another button. 

Her body freezes, her breath stilting into uneven inhales and exhales. It’s as if Sylus’ Evol is pinning her down, restraining her movement, but he isn’t-- he’s barely restraining her, only his finger on her body now, wrapping in the cleft of her shirt and undoing yet another button. Yet she can’t find the strength to move, eyes hazing over with the familiar lust she’s always had for him, and something further-- adoration, as she watches his face concentrated on her body. Even in this disheveled state he radiates, makes her heart swell against her will, beat hard and insistently like it’s pressing up against her ribs. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, leaning down slowly to kiss at her jaw, lips warm and soft. She chokes back a sigh, clenching her teeth at his touch but still inexplicably unable to move. “You know you want this.” She doesn’t respond, grappling with herself, memories of Zayne rearing, his soft and measured touches, in contrast to Sylus’ raw aggression. Finally, hearing Zayne’s voice in her head, she snaps herself out of her paralysis, hand coming up to push Sylus back, palm flat against his chest. “W-wait.”

He stops, eyes searching her face silently. “I--I--” she stammers, eyes wide, not able to get any words out. 

“Shh,” he murmurs, tracing a thumb across her lips. “I won’t make you ssay it.” He focuses on her, and then she feels heat flood her senses, a key sign he’s using his Evol again, in the other way. Her vision darkens, and she knows here, in this quiet black place he’s taking her, she can’t hide from him. It’s a place where she can only be honest. She feels her back arch as the feelings burst out of her-- I need it, I need you, make me yours, I miss you-- she feels a pang of relief that he’s removed the burden from her of saying it, of forcing her to betray herself, betray Zayne, out loud. But the shame eats away at her, corrosive like acid, as she looks into Sylus’ eyes, watching them glimmer as they decipher her hidden thoughts. 

Sylus focuses, attuned to her mind and body, feeling the words of her consciousness rush in as if uttered directly into his ears, proving what he already knew-- that he still has her wrapped around his finger. “Let me have you,” he purrs, fingers wrapping around yet another button.

Her resolve crumbles with her deepest desires surfaced by his Evol. He makes work quickly of the rest of the buttons, tearing open her shirt, exposing her bra. He growls at the sight,  eyes narrowing. 

“You want this... don’t you?”

Her response is choked in her throat, but manages to slip out despite her better judgment. “Yes,” she moans, and that’s all he needs to hear. His mouth meets her collarbone, sucking attentively. “Good,” he murmurs between kisses. “I’m not fond of sharing, you know.”

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she mutters, her body’s reaction to him involuntary (or so she convinces herself.) “I’m still not... your girlfriend, or anything like that. I don’t even like you.”

“Who said anything about you being my girlfriend?” He mutters, mouth working over her neck now. He smiles into her skin. “Ah. Do you think I came here to get you to be my girlfriend again?”

“No.” She snaps, blushing furiously, her hands landing on his arms that are braced on top of the mattress as he leans over her. “I didn’t say that. I’m just reiterating what should already be beyond clear to you.” “I’ll tell you what’s clear to me,” he murmurs, pulling back for a second, his deep blood-red eyes boring into hers. “What’s clear is... this Zayne guy doesn’t seem to be able to handle this beautiful gift he’s been given, and it seems like this gift herself knows she isn’t being cared for properly. Enjoyed properly.” He hooks a finger into her bra strap. “Or else it wouldn’t have taken her only five minutes to crumble.”

“I’m not going back to you,” she spits out. 

“You never left,” he says softly, a half smile rising on his chapped lips. 

Suddenly she’s being flipped onto her back, her face smothered in the pillow below her, the sensation of a cold hand gripping the back of her neck, fingers encircling it with practiced ease. His weight presses her down, pins her deep into the blankets. With his other hand he deftly unlatches her bra from the back, and then tugs off her pants, leaving her exposed with just her underwear on. She whimpers, feeling the air smooth over her hot skin. 

“He doesn’t do this for you, does he?” Sylus drawls, an arm snaking under her hips to pull her upward on her knees, his other hand still pressing her head and neck into the pillow. Her cheeks burn at this new position, knowing how vulnerable and bare she is. She stays silent, a flicker of anger mixing with desire. 

He roughly yanks down her panties, and before long she feels a calloused thumb between her wet folds. She bites into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut as the familiar warmth of pleasure surges over her. She curses herself internally for letting herself become so pliant, so weak in his hands.

“Seems like I’ve got my answer,” he mutters, thumb pressing against her clit. She bites back a groan, teeth impaling her bottom lip. She can hear his usually stoic voice growing thicker and deeper with his own building arousal, a sound which only makes her feel weaker.

“Now sweetheart, I don’t have much time.” He bends down by her ear, leaning over her, hot breath sending a shiver down her body. “I’d love to take care of you slowly, bit by bit, but I wasn’t joking when I said I was here on business. I have some pressing matters to take care of that need my attention, after this... matter right here.” He slaps her ass, hard. She yelps, drawing a rough chuckle from his throat.

“I only have time for one round, unfortunately, so I’m going to ask for your input.” He purrs into her ear. “Don’t say anything else-- just be good, and answer my question. I don’t have time for your backtalk.” The flat of his hand smooths over the spot he slapped, sending bolts of heat through her abdomen. 

“Fingers, my mouth... or all of me inside you. Choose.” 

She tastes the tang of blood from where she’d bitten her lip earlier as she opens her mouth to speak, voice hoarse. She whispers something unintelligible into the pillow. 

“Speak up, love,” he murmurs, gently easing up his hold on the back of her neck. 

“All of you...” she mutters, embarrassment making her cringe, face pressed into the side of her pillow. 

Suddenly Sylus spots her bleeding lip, and his brows furrow for a moment. His hands scoop her up so that she’s positioned up off the pillow, on her knees, his chest to her back and arms securely around her waist. He uses one hand to tilt her chin up and to the side. “You’re bleeding, honey. Bit your lip?”

“What does it look like,” she responds gruffly, still not wanting to give him the pleasure of agreeable answers. His thumb skates across her bottom lip, dabbling in the blood there. She winces. “Were you trying to be quiet?” he murmurs, examining his thumb that’s now flecked with her blood. 

He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead, leaning down to kiss her softly, the metallic acrid tang of blood mixing between both their tongues. “Don’t do that,” he whispers softly into her lips. “I don’t want you to be quiet. You know that’s not what I like.” 

The moment is more intimate than the previous ones they’ve shared tonight, and for a moment she softens a bit, her heart giving an uncomfortable fluttery lurch at his kiss, at his gently murmured words. But the moment is gone quickly, and his hand finds the back of her neck again, fingers pressing into her skin. “Remind me of your choice?” He says through clenched teeth. 

“All.. all of you...” she says through a soft gasp. His face is so close to hers that all she can see is the slope of his jaw and a burning eye that’s trained on her bottom lip. 

He nods curtly, and then lays her back into the mattress, her face finding the pillow again, her back arching as he nudges her knees further apart, his own legs coming between hers. As she hears the sound of his belt buckle unfastening and his low, deep breaths, she feels the shame and regret already churning in her stomach as she lies there, spread and prostrate, waiting.

“Don’t think about him,” Sylus says darkly, as if he’s reading her mind. She feels his large, muscular hands grip her waist, as if to steady her mind, to bring her back to earth, back to this moment. “He’s not here right now. Think about me.”

She stifles a moan as his fingers drift between her legs again, spreading her wide open. Her throat feels tight, and her entire body is covered in goosebumps. She trembles in anticipation, unable to deny the feeling. 

“He won’t make you feel this pretty,” Sylus snarls, his hand returning to her hips, digging into the flesh. His voice is angry this time, and then her eyes blow wide as he sheaths himself completely inside her in one sharp thrust. A strangled sound tears itself from her throat, a sound she hasn’t made in a long time. He stays there, back hunching over her, his arms shaking, his knuckles white as his fingers press bruises into the skin of her waist and hips. 

He starts, his pace brutal, and she can immediately detect something in the way he thrusts, in the way his hands are so rough as they move up to her breasts, gripping her from behind. Rage. His hips snap against her, sending nearly painful daggers of pleasure through her belly. She gasps each time he pistons in and out of her, unable to see him behind her, face still pressed into the pillow. “He can’t make you feel beautiful like this..” Sylus spits between grunts as he buries himself deep, again, again, again...

“Sylus,” she chokes out, eyes hazy with pleasure, the world around her vignetting, falling dramatically out of focus. “I want to see you-- let me turn over--” she babbles. 

He pulls out with a harsh grunt, and then flips her over onto her back at her request. She takes him in fully now, eyes raking over him, torso bare and sweater discarded on the nearby couch, his pants at his knees, his face contorted in a mess of lust and fury, glasses slipping lower and lower on his nose. It might be the most upset she’s ever seen him look, even more upset than when they’d broken up.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says harshly, gripping her hips again and aligning himself with her dripping entrance. 

“Like what--ah!” She hisses as he enters her, cutting the conversation short. He resumes his unrelenting pace, coming down to his elbows, inches of space between them as he ruts into her.

“Like you’re fucking examining me--” he sneers between thrusts. She protests, her hands finding his shoulders as she’s pulled deeper and deeper into pleasure. “I’m not examining-- hah... I’m just looking at y-” 

His hand clamps over her mouth. “Don’t talk,” he snarls. Her eyes widen. Something’s snapped in him, his demeanor different, whatever cold exterior he’d managed to build cracking undeniably now, revealing the twisted feelings layered underneath. His muscles ripple with unrestrained emotions, and sweat beads on his brow as he snaps his hips into her. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” he mutters. “I don’t want to hear that I look like shit. I don’t want to hear you ask me why I’m angry as if it’s some fucking surprise to you.” With each thrust it’s somehow more intense, the friction and heat between them growing exponentially. Her hands find his hips as he pistons into her, scrambling for purchase on flesh that’s now slick with sweat. “Of course I’m fucking angry,” he hisses. They’re face to face, inches apart. “I’m angry that-- you’re gone-- I can’t--” he lets out a strained noise that sounds almost like he’s in pain, his abs clenching as he holds himself back. “He can’t make you feel like this... he can’t...” 

His hand is still clamped over her mouth, and she breathes through her nose, the restriction of air making her heart speed up with adrenaline. He fucks her deep, and it takes more of a toll on him than she knows it should. The way he’s sweating, the way his face is still twisted with anger and anguish and desire, the way his free hand grips her waist possessively as he ruts into her-- it’s not the physical exertion making him act like this. He’s genuinely upset in a way that he’s never let her see before. “Sylus,” she pants, her orgasm building deep in her core, like a coil of fire. As if the noise triggers his memory that his hand is still over her mouth, he removes it suddenly, holding her waist instead. He looks away briefly, eyes finding where their bodies connect instead, eyes black with lust as he thrusts into her. She can see the way he’s starting to go quiet, the way his rhythm is staggering. She knows he’s close too. 

“Do you still love me?” He blurts out, still not meeting her eyes. 

She doesn’t expect the question, and she doesn’t know how to respond. She evaluates a thousand possible answers at once, her brain overloaded with pleasure and confusion. 

His head falls, weak, as he continues rutting into her. “P-please...” he says, his voice breaking. 

She’s stunned. Almost as a reflex, she sits up a bit, gaze lacing with a newfound concern. “Sy...?”

“Say it,” he groans, his pace becoming more erratic, the unpredictability of it driving new spikes of pleasure through her. “Say you--”

“I love you,” she whispers softly, before she can stop herself. “I love you, Sylus.”

His body hunches over as he comes, as if on command at her words, and her own orgasm follows quickly, her hands seizing the sheets for a moment in a brutal grip before latching on his waist again. She gasps, holding him close, her legs instinctively wrapping around him as she feels his warmth fill her, feels his body jerk with exertion and pleasure. Her hands find his face, cupping his jaw as he weakly thrusts himself through the aftershocks, his arms shaking with the effort of holding himself upright over her. 

The moment flickers with a liminal quality, and she feels like she’s trapped in limbo, some hellish purgatory of confused emotions. She’s said those words she can’t take back now, and now the two of them are floating in the dead space, less than lovers, a lot more than friends. He’s weak in her arms now, completely undone, whatever mask he once wore in pieces, ground to dust under the weight of her confession. He lies there atop her for a minute that feels like an hour, as she strokes his hair, confused by her own tenderness but unable to hold it back. And then he tears himself away from her. He’s buttoning his pants, pulling on his sweater, wiping a wrist across his brow and readjusting his glasses. It’s as if they hadn’t done what they just did, like they’re strangers again. She lies there almost in shock still, attempting to cut through the foggy haze of afterglow and form more coherent thoughts.

“I have to go,” he mutters under his breath, his voice still betraying some of the turmoil in him. It’s softer than he usually sounds, and more uncertain. 

At his words, she snaps out of it. “Wait,” she blurts. “We-- we need to talk about this. You can’t just go after that!”

“I have to.” He says quickly, organizing his messy hair in the mirror. “Don’t have time.”

“Don’t have the time?!” She says incredulously. “You can’t treat this like some one night stand!”

“I never said that,” he mutters, looking at her. His eyes drift down her body, to her entrance, staring at the evidence of their encounter. She flushes, clamping her legs shut. Sylus clears his throat. “I never said it was,” he repeats. “I... I’ll call you. We can talk later.”

“When later?” she says hoarsely.

“When I can,” he replies, tone smoother now, regaining his usual  impassioned quality. She notices, and it pisses her off. “You can’t just do what you always do,” she snaps. “You can’t just run away again and act cold. Like this doesn’t matter.”

He pauses in the doorway, and exhales a small sigh. “It matters,” he says quietly. 

And then he’s gone.

[lukesaprince]

Rich Part 21

Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. The truth is revealed and extenuating circumstances lead to y/n spilling the beans about her and Harry.

Warning: HELLA SMUT!! Daddy!kink, oral (f receiving), dirty talk (degradation and praise ofc), spanking, spitting kink, creampie, mentions of death (specifically a child) and grieving, poor mental health.

Word count: 17k+

Author's note: I recommend reading Part 20 before this one as it's a direct continuation! Part 22 already has 7k words written so I PROMISE you won't have to wait a month to read more of my babies. Enjoy 😚😚

- Find Series Masterlist Here -

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“Please… Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

His mouth slotted with yours like the final puzzle piece. Smooth and effortless, melting into you while his hand moved from your neck to grab onto your hair. He was simultaneously protecting your head from the door and tugging right at the root of your pretty hair. 

The sting had you whimpering into his mouth, hands through his hair and over his chest and just everywhere while you reached up on your tippy toes to kiss back harder. You quite liked feeling smaller than him and Harry loved being bigger than you. Taller than you. Pressing his full body weight into you until all you could feel was him. 

“I don’t… I don’t have much time.” You murmured into his mouth, gasping as the kiss broke and he let his mouth skirt over your jaw. You always did have a sensitive neck. It was a sweet spot for you and Harry knew that. At this point he had memorised all your erogenous zones and the little things he did that turned you on and considered himself an expert in how to take advantage of it. 

He was always learning new things about you. Every day he found new details about you and fell deeper in love because of it. 

“You do.” His smirk curled against your jaw and focused one hand on your hair to tug your head back while the other squeezed over your waist. 

“I really don’t. My parents will see my car and wonder where I am. They’d be offended I saw you before them.” 

“I think they’d be a little more than offended if they knew what you were doing here. Wouldn’t they, darling?” 

Your gasp got caught in your throat, muffled by a moan when he bared his teeth against your neck. His mouth cushioned lower, tracing over what felt like every single inch of your bare skin. 

“Probably.” You just hummed in response, letting your eyes flutter closed while you relaxed into the feeling of his soft, wet tongue over your neck. 

“What would they say if they knew you called me Daddy, hm? Bet your mother would faint, wouldn’t she? Her darling little y/n.” Harry pulled away so you could watch the way his lips wrapped around each syllable. He pressed his hand over your throat again, keeping you pinned there as he undid the bow of your sweatpants. “Come on, baby. Tell me what she’d say.” 

You didn’t think he’d want a response to that when it sounded so rhetorical. More like a tease than something he wanted you to respond back to. 

“I don’t know. I don’t even want to-” the words got stuck in your throat when you felt his nimble fingers slide along the waistband of your sweatpants. He smirked at your reaction, scanning every inch of your face while languidly stroking your lower belly. “-to think about it. It's mortifying.” 

His eye contact was making you want to pass the fuck out and when his fingers found the band of your underwear you nearly did. You had missed this. The cat and mouse game. The teasing. Though it usually took a lot longer than the time you had. 

“It’s not mortifying when you’re doing it, though. Is it, baby?” He cocked his head, maintaining eye contact as he started to trace over your underwear down towards your clit. You shook your head quickly, grabbing onto his forearms. 

“Words.” He warned. 

“No. No it isn’t.”

“Feels quite… good. Doesn’t it?” He pressed right over your clit, rubbing purposed circles. The friction of your underwear was driving you crazy. But you wanted more and you were a little conscious of the time. 

“You know it does.”

“I know.” He smirked, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “I make you feel good. Don’t I?”

The questions were making your head spin. “Yes… yes.”

The friction suddenly disappeared from your clit, but just as you were about to make a noise of disdain, his hands were hoisting your legs up around his waist and he was carrying you through the house to his dining room. He set you down on the edge of the table, reaching in to kiss you deeply just long enough to have you gasping and tugging at his hair.

The kiss broke and his mouth trailed down your neck again. You made a pretty little whimpering sound that had Harry smirking against your skin while he worked on removing your pants properly. 

“I love when you do that…” he groaned, nimble fingers sliding along the waistband of your sweats, tucking into them and your underwear at the same time before very easily pulling them down under your ass until they fell to your ankles. The cool air hit your clit instantly, sending a chill down your spine and the tension of your legs that only increased when Harry continued to talk dirty to you. “When you whimper all pretty for me… ‘s my favourite thing in the world. Never takes long either. Could just kiss you and you’d moan for me. Isn’t that right?” 

His question hung heavy in the hair but all you could focus on was the sight of him dropping to his knees before you to help guide your feet out of the bottom half of your clothing. 

“Uhuh.” You agreed haphazardly, sweeping your hand through his hair at the first touch of his lips against your knee. He kissed down your calf until that ankle was out of your pants then switched sides to do the other, this time kissing up from your ankle to your knee to the sensitive skin of your thigh.

“Why don’t I give you something proper to moan about, hm? Would you like that, pretty girl?” Harry let his lips brush against your skin while his hands ran up and down your legs, running his thumbs over your knees like he was about to pry your legs open and dive right in.

Every touch had you breathing heavier, already getting worked up just from a few little kisses. It didn’t help that you were already on edge from his earlier teasing and knowing that things would get a little rougher than usual only made you needier.

Sex always was a bit rougher when ‘daddy’ came into play. Harry took on the role in full force and took full control of the scene. He usually spanked you more, grabbed you more, fucked you harder. Fuck… you hoped he’d spit in your mouth too, maybe smack his ringed fingers over your clit. You could ask for it of course and he’d happily oblige (with a bit of teasing and degradation to accompany your request of course), but it was so much hotter when he just did it. When he owned you and treated you like a hole to use. 

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, tugging his hair a little harder. He smirked and nipped at your thigh, grabbing your calves to pull you forward until your legs widened to fit him between them. Grabbing your face suddenly, he squeezed your cheeks roughly until you whined in pain. 

“Where are your manners, huh? I thought I taught you better than that.” He tutted, maintaining eye contact while he spit suddenly on the fingers on his other hand before reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Harry didn’t want to stop looking at your pretty eyes for a single second. The moment he found your clit he tapped against it roughly, making your back arch at the repeated sting of his fingers. His saliva only made it hurt more and yet you found yourself loving every second of it. 

“Shit.” You cursed, clutching onto his shoulders. The sting had your toes curling, knees dug into either side of his hips in an attempt to curb the ache. “Shit.”

“If you’re a good girl, y/n, you’ll get treated nicely. Don’t you know what happens if you’re not, hm?” He smirked, pressing his palm to your clit while sliding two fingers down through your labia. You were soaked, already dripping for him to do something. Anything. He circled his fingers over your entrance, pressing just enough to make that delicious whimper echo around his kitchen before he dragged them back up to your clit. “Or has it been that long since I put your attitude in check?”

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Harry repeated the same movements, torturously dragging up and down… up and down from your clit to your entrance without doing anything remotely close to satisfying. 

“‘M sorry. I’m sorry Daddy. I got… fuck” you cursed when he nudged over your clit again. It was just a game now, a sadistic little game to see how wet he could get you without actually giving much pleasure. “Excited.”

“Excited? Or selfish?” He cocked his head, grinding his palm to your clit while squeezing your face a little harder. “Being needy doesn’t give you an excuse to be ill mannered.”

“You’re right. I’m-I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. I promise.” The words came out as a hushed whimper of strung together desperation. Harry was loving every second of it. 

“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes. Please, Daddy.”

“Gonna let me do anything I want?”

“Anything. Anything.”

His cock stirred at the thought of being able to do anything to you. To have complete control over you. Of course, you truly had the power in the situation, but he loved that you chose to let him take the reigns. 

“Open your mouth.”

Harry slid his hand down to your jaw to give you space to move your mouth and as soon as you did, your lips parted just wide enough for him to spit right on your tongue. The sight was obscene. Your tongue sticking out to catch his saliva, his mark, his ownership. Your eyes were all glazed and pretty and you looked happy to take whatever he gave you. You were happy. 

He just couldn’t help himself, really. Couldn’t stop himself from getting a taste of your pretty mouth. It would’ve felt wrong not. You were his girl after all. His love. Kissing you was part of the job. 

Harry was quick to dart out and clasp his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth so he could rub his saliva over your tongue with his own. It was feral. Sloppy in the best way possible. He slid his tongue against yours, spreading his spit and the new saliva from your kiss everywhere.

You loved when he kissed you sloppy. When it was way too inappropriate for outside eyes. Something just for you. While his tongue told you exactly how he felt about you, he grabbed onto your hips and pulled you forward until you slid off the table, landing on your unsteady feet. 

“Take this off, yeah? Let me see how pretty you are.” He murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to speak while tugging upwards at the end of your t shirt.

You quickly obeyed and ripped your t shirt off, letting it land on the floor without care. You didn’t bother putting a bra on when you left Lucy’s, not when you were just going home and seeing Harry quickly - or at least you thought it would be quick - so you were left bare. Now you were grateful that you decided to do that, especially from the dark-eyed reaction you gained from your bare breasts being exposed to your lover.

“Fuck baby. Got the prettiest tits ever.” Harry cursed, palming over your exposed breasts while he connected your mouths again.

Your hands found home in his hair, reciprocating happily to his enthusiastic kissing. It was such a power imbalance being completely naked while he was still fully clothed. The anxious part of you hated it and felt so… small. Exposed. The bigger part of you, the one that got off on being submissive and degraded frothed over it. There was no feeling like his fully clothed body against your fully bare one, other than skin to skin contact of course.

That was your favourite.

“Driving me fucking crazy like this.” Harry murmured again, keeping one hand on your breast while the other trailed upwards to the little pearl necklace permanently fixtured on your neck. You only took it off to shower, otherwise it never left your body. You couldn’t bare to part from it because it was a constant reminder of Harry. Like he was always with you.

And you happened to love how possessive he became when his eyes landed on the little string of pearls. How they darkened ever so slightly. When you were in public it turned into a kiss or his hand squeezing your hand or waist, like it triggered some obsessive reaction. You weren’t sure if he caught onto the fact that the necklace somehow pavloved physical touch, but you did.

Sometimes you liked to draw attention to it on purpose to tease him, not that he knew he was being teased. When you were talking you might brush your hair away from your neck or fiddle with the pearls to draw his eyes there. It was fun. A game you were winning even if he didn’t know he was participating.

“And this…” He hooked his finger into the necklace, tugging it gently while simultaneously tugging at your bottom lip, releasing it with a pop. “You’ve got no idea how sexy you look with nothing on but this.”

“I never take it off…” You sighed.

“I know. I love you more for it.” He mused, nipping on your neck. “If that’s even possible.” Your head lulled back when he ran his hands down over your body again, landing on your hips where he quickly spun you around to face the table and pressed himself against you. “Love how soft you are too…” He complimented, pressing spongey kisses along your shoulder. 

You braced yourself against the table, letting yourself be pushed down flat against it by a gentle hand on the middle of your back.

“How you feel in my hands… my mouth…”

His mouth replaced his hand, trailing down until he was crouched behind you. God the sight of you was driving him crazy. 

Running his hands over your ass, he pressed a kiss to one of your cheeks, dragging his bottom lip against your skin as he released before kissing over to your other cheek. Then he spread you wide, eliciting a gasp when he spanked you and groaned at the way your skin rippled then spread you open again. 

“My tongue…” 

And then you felt it. His hot tongue met your clit, swiping through your labia right to your tight ring of muscles where he decided to focus his attention. Harry was aware you two didn’t have all the time in the world, but he just couldn’t compromise on his favourite thing. Tasting you. 

Your flavour, your scent, how wet you got. Like silky honey dripping down his throat and coating his lips. He was obsessed with it. Which is why he let himself a few moments of flicking his tongue against your ass before he moved down to one of his favourite parts of you. That pretty little clit. 

Your moans were like music to his ears. An array of whimpers and whines, pleaded whispers of his name and his honorific. There was nothing like hearing the moan of his name, even moreso when he was being your ‘Daddy’. You were much more pliant, more responsive. He wasn’t sure if it was your submission kicking in more than usual or because your kink was being stroked the entire time. 

Either way, he was reaping the benefits. 

You were so hot and sweet and were wiggling like a fucking worm in his grip. He had to hold onto your hips harder to keep you still, but that didn’t stop your clenching and trembling when he sucked particularly hard on your clit or fucked his tongue inside you. 

So fucking responsive.

“God, you taste so fucking sweet, baby. My favourite meal in the world.” He praised, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking a little rougher than usual just so you’d cry out for him.

“Please. Please.” You begged, forehead pressed against the table.

“What?” Harry mused, sliding his tongue toward your entrance and pressing it there. You clenched on impact and he could feel it at the tip of his tongue. All he could think about now was getting inside you. God, he was so hard. So painfully hard. 

“Need you. Please, Daddy. Need your cock so bad.” You begged clearly this time, needing to be filled more than anything. 

“Yeah? Need it bad, do you?” Harry stood up, kissing your cheek on the way up before he was ridding himself of his clothing. He was already hot and worked up and he knew that the moment his cock touched you he’d be sweating all over. Besides… he wanted to feel you. He wanted to press his chest into your back and feel your thighs against his.

He craved the intimacy of skin to skin like nothing else.

“Yes. Fuck. Yes.” You sighed, nearly screaming in relief when you felt the tip of his cock bump against your clit. 

“I’ll give it to you baby…” He soothed, dragging his tip through your folds to collect your wetness over his cock. “I’ve got you…” His tip pressed against your entrance and you swore you could’ve cried when he slowly pushed in. “Shit.”

“Fuck.”

He stretched you slowly, torturously, like he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock. Every vein and ridge and the way he got slowly wider at the base. It wasn’t something you’d feel when he was fucking you roughly, but God it was all you could feel now. The stretch, the ache, the way your knees buckled when his hand pressed into your lower back to keep you still.

And then the slow, tortuous teasing ended and without any warning he drew his hips back and slammed back into you in a way that had your lungs losing all their breath. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers dug tightly so there was this constant ache that seemed to reach its way straight to your soul. 

And you fucking loved it. Every bruising thrust, every snapping sound, the way Harry moaned and cursed, telling you exactly how much he liked it. He never was shy from making sounds of pleasure and it was one of the things that made sex with him so hot. 

“You’re so tight. Shit, baby. Always so fucking tight around me.”

“Oh God. Harry!” 

“Wrong name, sweetheart.” He reprimanded with a heavy spank on your ass, the snapping sound echoing throughout the room. “Say the right one. Say it.” 

“Daddy.” You moaned pathetically, earning another spank right on the other cheek. The sting was the most satisfying sort of burn, a pain that lingered and ached but only made everything so much better. It fuelled your pleasure, contributing to the orgasm you had been waiting for twice now. 

It didn’t take long to reach it. Not when he had already teased you with his mouth and fingers and now was fucking you so damn good you could barely breathe. Harry didn’t stop once you rode through your orgasm, no, he took it as an opportunity to give you barely ten seconds of rest and flip you around so you were lying flat on the table. He was nestled back in you before you knew it, in a single fluid thrust that had you crying out from sheer sensitivity. 

He didn’t seem to care, or he did but just liked to see the way the tears streamed down your face. And you were okay. He knew you were okay because he checked in with you in that ten seconds of rest, making sure you were green before he flipped you over to fuck you how he wanted. 

And fuck. This was how he wanted you. 

“You just take it so fucking well, don’t you sweetheart? Always squeeze around my cock so tight.” Harry uttered through gritted teeth, fingers achingly squeezed into your cheeks while his eyes remained glued to where you two were connected.

Harry always loved fucking you from behind. The heart shape of your ass, the way he could see all your pretty holes and how you clenched around him, the way he could get his cock inside you deeper than other positions… how he could grab your hips and fuck you hard, bruising your insides and out. He liked being able to spank your pretty ass and thumb at your tight ring of muscles and he especially liked spreading your cheeks and burying his face between them. 

But nothing compared to watching your face. The way your eyes would roll back into your head, how they’d flutter and close when something felt especially good. The scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow and the way your mouth would part in a whimper when something hurt a little too good. The way your jaw would clench and slack and how dazed your eyes got when he wrapped his hand around your throat.

He loved watching the effect he had on you. Your face showed him how good he was making you feel in a way your body didn’t and it became a little game to him on how to get you to make certain facial expressions. 

Mostly though… he liked watching your eyes gloss over the harder he fucked you, the meaner he was. He loved to watch you slip into an ultimate state of submission and pleasure. 

“Daddy…” You moaned, unable to come up with anything in reply to him. You were already too far gone. 

“I know.” He sympathised. “Shit baby, you feel so fucking good. So good. Got the best pussy, you do.” 

There was nothing like having a man moan for you. When they whimpered for you, praised you.

“Love your cock.” The words tumbled out without real thought, “feels so good. Always need it so bad.”

Shit. You didn’t talk dirty very often, not that Harry minded. He liked to watch your reactions when he uttered total filth. But Jesus… when you said anything remotely sexual like that, that you loved his cock? For a moment he feared he was going to prematurely cum before he made you finish for the second time. 

“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby, but you’re gonna need to stop if you want me to keep fucking you.”

You let out a choked laugh at his words, loving how one small compliment had him stilling for a second to collect himself. You clenched on purpose, gasping with a smile when he pinched your cheeks a little harder. 

“Spit in my mouth.”

Now you were just fucking with him. Through the haze of your pussy being completely destroyed by him, you still managed to tease him and be a fucking brat. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy today.” He gritted, cocking his head while sliding his hand down your jaw to the top of your throat so he could tuck his thumb into your mouth. “Open up.”

Your lips parted instantly, earning a pleased ‘good girl’ in return that had you happy as anything. “Stick your tongue out.” Again, you followed his instruction instantly, whimpering when his fingers dug into the sides of your neck with purpose. “That’s it. Good girl.”

It all happened so fast. The praise. The hammering of his hips against yours. The woozy pleasure feeling clouding your brain like a drug. All of it. And then it happened. Harry collected the saliva in his mouth and spat it all over your tongue, watching with sick satisfaction as your saliva slid down to the back of your throat. He groaned loudly and leaned in to kiss you fiercely, picking up the pace against your hips in a way that had tears trailing down your face. 

It was so good. So so fucking good. It felt like your whole body was on fire. Every square of your body was pressed against his and when he fucked you particularly hard, the dining table scraped across his gorgeous wooden flooring. Harry didn’t give two fucks about his scratched floors, if anything he liked the thought of always looking at a constant reminder that you were his. 

“Can’t believe what a little slut you’re being tonight.” He grinned, palming over your breast and pinching your nipple until you cried out and arched against him. “You fucking love my spit, don’t you? That’s why you asked for it. Because you love being my filthy little slut.”

Filthy little slut. God you loved when he was a little mean to you. A lot mean sometimes too. 

“Uhuh. Love it so much.” You nodded enthusiastically, well, as enthusiastically as you could after an orgasm and his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your throat. 

“Yeah? Take some more than. Since you want it so fucking bad.” He spat into your mouth again, using two fingers to roughly spread it over your tongue. He pushed them back, laughing when you suddenly gagged around his fingertips. “Aw, poor baby can’t even handle my fingers, hm? How do you manage my cock then if you can’t even take two fingers down your throat?” 

He grabbed your neck this time and pushed you back until you were lying down on the table before grabbing your ankles to hike them on your shoulder. 

Yeah… a lot mean was fucking hot. 

“Harry.” You protested, covering your face with both hands. 

Your whole body was heating up from how mean he was being. Maybe even a little shy at how much you liked it. It shouldn’t have been a surprise anymore that you liked it, not when you two had so much practice with it. Yet you still found yourself getting nervous when he looked at you a certain way or said a certain thing. You rather liked it like that. You never wanted to lose the butterflies. The romance. The big pile of mush you turned into when he degraded you and used you. 

“Don’t start being shy now, Angel. You know you like it.” He smirked, reaching forward to grab your hands from your face. He interlaced your fingers, drawing your hands down to rest on your belly so he could look at you. “Wanna look at you, baby. You’ve got the prettiest face. Look so gorgeous like this.”

Every word seemed to be egging you on, drawing you closer to the inevitable ecstasy that would flood through your core. The angle was so intense, so deep you knew that if he pressed on your belly, his cock would press through. 

“Oh god. I’m… shit. I’m so close.” You moaned, squeezing his hands and digging your heels into his shoulders. 

“Give it to me, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“My… my clit.”

Harry kept one hand intertwined with yours while the other moved down to your clit. He rubbed purposed circles over your bundle of nerves, delivering such perfect pressure it barely took a murmured ‘I love you’ for that wave of white hot pleasure to rush over you. His thrusts stilled at the feeling of you clenching around him and he was quick to widen your legs and fold over you so he could lazily slot your lips together. 

With a curse and a pretty whimper into your mouth that had your head spinning, Harry thrust once, twice, three final times until you felt his hot cum fill you up. His body was so heavy over yours, your sticky bodies pressed and joined together. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, wanting to keep him as close as possible to you. 

“God, that was so good.” He murmured, tucking his forehead into the crook of your neck.

“Agreed. I’ve missed that” you whispered, panting slightly as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Me too. Fuck.” He propped himself up over you, pushing your hair back from your face. “Are you okay?”

You smiled and let out a small laugh, tipping your head up so you could kiss him. “I’m more than okay. Two orgasms equals a happy girl.” 

“And what does three make you?” He grinned. 

“An even happier girl, possibly a tired girl.” You smiled, reaching your arms above your head to arch your back in a stretch. He shook his head and stood back straight, scanning his eyes over the light sheen of sweat on your pretty skin. 

“And you’re not tired now?” Harry raised his brow, looking down at your pussy to watch himself pull out. He did so slowly, careful not to hurt you and was completely mesmerised by the trail of cum that followed his cock. 

“Fuck.” You whispered, feeling an ache when he fully pulled out of you. “Of course I’m tired. A little sore too. I think I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”

“Mh. Me too. Wish we could sleep together.” He replied, eyes glued to his cum slowly dripping out of you. “I don't think I’ll ever get over how hot it is to see you like this.”

“Mmh.” You agreed, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at his cock covered in your cream. “I always thought creampies were overrated before you. Now… I love it.” Your eyes flickered back to Harry, who was already looking right at you with this dark look that made you want to climb all over him again. “I like feeling it later… even if it’s a little gross to sit in cold cum.”

Harry scrunched his nose up at that, “You could’ve made that so much sexier, y/n. Now when you go home I’ll be thinking of stale cum.”

“I didn’t call it stale! I said ‘cold’.” 

“Like that’s any better?” He laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ll grab you some water and a towel, okay? Stay here.” 

“Like I’d go anywhere, I’ll drip stale cum all over your floor.” You shot back as he was already walking into his kitchen. You loved his ass. It was just so cute half the time you had this temptation to just whack it but you knew he’d hate it and probably retaliate ten times worse. 

There was something so sexy about him walking around stark naked without a care in the world. He had such confidence in his body and himself that he really didn’t care. You weren’t as confident as he was in that department but being with him had definitely made you more confident in your skin. 

“It’s already on my table, y/n. The floor won’t make much difference.”

You clenched up immediately at that comment, trying to stop more of his cum from dripping out of you. “Yeah… we’ve got to sanitise this. We eat here.” You scrunched your nose and sat up to look at the spot between your legs, finding his cum already dripped onto the table. 

“Baby I’d sanitise the entire house if it meant I got to fuck you anywhere and everywhere.” He smirked, coming back with a big glass of water and a damp tea towel. He had already cleaned himself up and was quick to crouch down before you to clean you up as well. You didn’t get very nervous about the cleanup anymore. Harry had wiped you clean and taken care of you dozens of times. 

“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing the glass from where he had put it on the table beside you. “Your bed’s next. When we have more time.”

“I still can’t believe we haven’t christened my bed yet. It feels wrong.” He murmured, watching you 

shakily bring the glass to your lips while he grabbed your underwear from the pile of clothes on the floor and dragged them up your legs.

“I know. I’ve missed your bed. It’s a lot comfier than mine, more space too.” You had this little mischievous grin playing on your lips, one that Harry found incredibly sexy. 

You were still breathing a little heavily and managed to finish half the glass by the time you lifted your hips and Harry adjusted your underwear back in place. You attempted to set the glass down on the table beside you but before you could, he stood up and stopped you with a finger pushing the cup up towards you.

“Ah. All of it.” He tutted, looking at you expectedly until you brought the cup up to your mouth again. He maintained eye contact with you, one hand rubbing over your bare thigh while he kept a single finger underneath your glass. It was firm enough to tell you to keep drinking, but not enough so you wouldn’t be able to move the glass on your own. “Good girl… that’s it, drink all of it. Atta girl.”

You loved being fucked rough and dirty and since you two decided not to use condoms, your favourite thing was being pumped full of his cum, even more so when he degraded you when it happened. Like he just did barely two minutes ago. But there was something even better about the aftercare. His sweet tone, his commanding and caring nature as he got you water and a snack. All of it. 

And the praise. Somehow it was so much sexier when you two were post-sex, even more so when it was casual. A nonchalant ‘good girl’ when you did something he asked or a loving ‘I’m so proud of you’ when you got a good grade or finished an assignment. His atta girl at finishing your water nearly made you drop to your shaky knees and get him nice and hard again with your mouth. 

He said the words like they were nothing then moved on, not really caring that you were like a frozen deer at the first sign of praise. “I happen to like your bed. It’s cosy.”

“Yeah…” you breathed, “cosy and next to a thin wall where even adjusting in my bed can be heard by next door.”

“You don’t think they’d like hearing you call me ‘Daddy’?” He grinned, putting his sweatpants on and grabbing your t shirt to help put that on you too. You’ll definitely have to shower the second you walk into your house. There’s just no way you don’t smell like a sex club. 

“No, I don’t think so.” You finished the very last sip of your water, making sure there wasn’t a single drop left in the glass. Once it was all gone, Harry grabbed it from you and placed it down on the table out of the way, tipping your head up with a gentle finger under your chin while his thumb rubbed over the leftover wetness around your mouth from your drink.

“Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his thumb.

Harry smiled softly and guided your mouth to his for a single, deep, core-clenching kiss. It felt like a kiss that was promising so much more and even though you just had your fill, literally, it didn’t make you any less insatiable for him. There was just something about Harry dominating… truly dominating that turned you into a horny little rabbit. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if Harry called you that one day. It felt like the less you saw each other, the more insatiable you became. With the last couple of weeks being so busy, each time you’ve seen each other had been takeaway or a quick dinner and quick - but good - sex. You didn’t have proper time together and while fucking until the morning sounded and felt like a good idea in the moment, when you both woke up and Harry had his long commute to work or you had a day full of classes it became a regret.

Well, not a regret per se. You’d never regret sleeping with him. Ever. But you both complained about being tired the entire day to each other. More you than him since you loved to complain about everything and now Harry was fortunate enough to be the one to hear it all. It was worth it, but it was hard.

You couldn’t take every weekend, or even every second weekend off work to spend time with Harry because you needed money and he couldn’t ‘work from home’ to spend time with you. Driving so much took it out of both of you too so it was always easier if he stayed the night. Things would change once your parents knew and you had a bit more freedom… but you had a feeling they wouldn’t be totally happy with you spending nights with him instead of them.

And next door to top it all off.

Your anxious feelings didn’t help the situation either, but even with that little hiccup, you had missed time. Time where you two could just explore each other's bodies and try new things, go multiple rounds without the stress of your responsibilities. You had that before you two started dating so you knew that the changes to your sex life were mostly your fault. Or because of your situation. 

If you lived closer things would be a lot easier. But that was also life and you two were figuring out what worked for you and now to manage it all. Ideally, once you were finished with university, maybe you two would move in with each other or at the very least you’d want to live much closer to him. 

It was still so early into your relationship and you didn’t want to jump too far… but being full of his cum made your brain a little dizzy and romantic. Suddenly you were ready to forget your birth control and let him fuck a baby in you so you could be at home with him all the time. As a fantasy of course. 

Which is why your post-sex horny brain took a few seconds longer to process the next words out of his mouth. 

“Hey, um. I need to tell you something.” He whispered, forehead pressed against yours. He slid his hand along your cheek to cup your face, letting his fingertips comb through your hair a little. 

“Hm?” you asked, brows furrowing when you read the nervous look in his eyes. Your stomach dropped suddenly and that anxious gut feeling felt more rampant than ever. “What is it?”

“I have to go back to London.” 

“Oh, okay.” You were a little taken aback. Harry hadn’t mentioned any trips or work events or anything recently. The timing of it right after the phone call too felt a bit unnerving. You just hoped everything was okay. “When?”

“Just over a month.” He murmured, feeling that steady beat of anxiety claw at his throat. Harry hated that he had to ruin such a good moment, such a pleasurable, romantic experience to talk about this. He wasn’t sure how you’d react and it scared the hell out of him. 

“Wow, that’s short notice.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, threading your fingers casually into his hair. “Is it… family? Or work or?”

“Family. I…” he swallowed thickly, hugging his arms around you. “It’s my sister’s birthday. Everyone’s going to be there.”

“That’s great.” You smiled, relieved that it wasn’t something horrible. That he was okay. “That’ll be such a nice trip, Harry. Did you saw them last year when you went over?”

Harry didn’t speak about them a lot. He didn’t not speak about them and when they came up he always had something to say, but it also wasn’t a topic he brought up by himself. He spoke about his travels quite often, but even that topic hadn’t come up in a while. You were a little glad actually because you didn’t really want to think about him going away for so long. The thought of him in Italy looking all gorgeous and tanned without you made you violently ill. 

Harry shook his head and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about my family.”

And there it was. 

“What do you mean?” You asked softly, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Whatever it was had to be deeply personal and you knew that. 

After the very brief mention of his nephew passing, you two hadn’t spoken about it once. You wanted to ask but it never felt like the right time and after that phone call, the last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were pressuring him into talking. 

And now to learn there was more… 

“Well… you know how I told you about my nephew?” You nodded, “When he died… it was right around the time I was meant to move here. The timing was so fucked. My flight had been booked for months and it was scheduled for the week after the funeral. Everything was packed and ready to go and my job was due to start only a few days after I landed in Melbourne…”

“That must’ve been so hard, Harry. I can’t imagine having to leave everyone so close to his passing.”

“It gets worse, y/n.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “When Harry Jr died, it really fucked me up. I already wasn’t in the best mental state because of my ex, even if I thought I was fine, and I couldn’t handle it.” You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with it. It was clear he did something, but what? “Harry Jr was like my own kid. Him and Lola were everything to me but he was just… like my twin. Lola and I were close but it didn’t compare to the bond Harry and I had. Losing him was… the worst thing that has ever happened to me and as fucked as it was and still is, I couldn’t handle it.”

Harry was starting to get worked up. His words were becoming a little shaky and you could feel how tense he became. He was holding onto you so tight and yet he was avoiding looking at you. He was scared to hear how you were going to react and he was having a hard time finding the words to explain what he had done. 

Practicing with Max did nothing to help. He had told people before and been faced with his actions for years so it wasn’t a new discussion to have. But telling you, the love of his life, how he betrayed and destroyed his family only to keep himself distanced because he was a coward was the hardest it had ever been.  

“Everyone grieves differently, Harry. It would’ve been hard for everyone.” You tried to soothe, combing through his hair. 

“I changed my flight to the day of the funeral.” He just went and said it, immediately feeling your fingers stop in his hair and how you seemed to pull your body back from his. You didn’t mean to do it, but you were a little shocked. “I spent days breaking down and feeling the most depressed I had ever been. The idea of going to that funeral and seeing the small coffin… I couldn’t do it.” He stepped back from you, running his hands through his hair. He was shaking, his throat aching with how hard he was willing away the tears. His eyes were stinging and he didn’t want to face you as he explained the rest of the story, even when you slipped off the table and whispered his name, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“I skipped the funeral without telling anyone and I flew here to start my new life.” He paused, swallowing thickly, “I left her, y/n. I left my only sister on the worst day of her life because I couldn’t handle it. She lost her son and I left. I left!” The words came out in an angry spit and his shoulders seemed to widen and slump forward like he was holding back immense rage. At himself. “We fought and she said she’d never forgive me again, fuck I can’t forgive myself. I don’t even want to.”

You were a little thrown off balance, to be honest. You never expected him to say any of that and to hide it from you for so long. But you couldn’t be upset either. He made a terrible mistake and you could see how badly it was eating him up. Harry was a proud person and very rarely doubted himself or his actions, yet you knew he was so ashamed in himself for what he did. It was hard to see. 

“Harry…” You tried to get him to turn around with a little squeeze of his shoulder but he shrugged it off. 

“My mum hated me, Gemma hated me, Andy hated me. Everyone hated me and I deserved it. I’ve skipped every Christmas since because I couldn’t face it and because I was a coward. I’m still a coward. I’ve sent letters and texts and tried to call her and I’ve never been able to see her face to face because I’m scared. I’ve never been able to push myself to that next step because I keep thinking it’s too late. That she’ll never forgive me.” 

You could see how devastated he was about it and how angry he was at himself. And you understood it. He had spent nearly five years away from his family, beating himself up because of a huge mistake he made. And it was huge. You weren’t going to dispel that. You weren’t even sure that if you were in Gemma’s place, you’d ever get over something like that. 

But Harry has also changed a lot. You imagined Harry Jr’s death changed him for the worse. Since the moment you met him, he always was a selfish, narcissistic person. It was never a secret that he lived his life for himself and cared about money and his job over anything else and maybe Harry Jr’s death had something to do with that. But since knowing him he’s made so many improvements to himself. He’s completely turned around to try and be an honest and good person.

The things he did for you and put himself through to protect you wouldn’t be done by just anyone. He had so much love in him and had proved that time and time again. He was attentive and caring and so generous. You were starting to think that he always was that person but was torturing himself for so long because of the mistakes he had made that it was easier to keep people at an arm's length.

After knowing him deeper though, you knew that his family meant a lot to him. He spoke to his mum at least twice a week and looked after her financially too. She was a young mum and had already been retired for nearly 10 years because of the way Harry invested his money and the success he had in all his different ventures. Being able to retire a parent when you’re barely 30 and live your own life in such an extravagant way is a massive achievement. 

Which is why you were just so shocked he hadn’t visited Gemma in person yet to try and mend things. How did it take so long for him to finally make the decision to go back to the UK and mend things with her, at least you assumed that’s why he wanted to go to her birthday. You assumed the phone call with his mum had something to do with it too. 

You weren’t really sure what to make of it or what to say. You loved him and were always going to love him and it hurt to know that he had been in a mental place so low and so far gone that he hurt his only sibling this badly. He was suffering with his own grief and unable to cope that badly that his sister, the mother of his nephew had to mourn the loss of her son and her brother all at the same time.

It was awful all around. 

“Harry. Turn around, please.” You coaxed gently, giving his shoulder another little squeeze. He inhaled a shaky breath and slowly turned around, showing you his reddened eyes and puffy nose. “Come here.” You guided, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the couch so you two could sit and talk about it properly. He remained silent while you took his hands in yours, trying to find the right words to support him. 

“What you did was wrong…” His expression seemed to fall even further, complete despair in his eyes. “But you don’t need me to tell you that.” You softened your expression, reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “You’ve been torturing yourself because of this for years and I get it. I can’t put myself in your shoes or even Gemma’s shoes because I don’t have siblings and I don’t have nieces or nephews but I understand loss and I understand family. Everyone grieves differently but the one constant in our lives is our family. I don’t think it’s too late to make up for it.”

“You don’t mean that.” He whispered, scanning your face. “Why don’t you hate me? I fucked up.” 

“You did and I won’t excuse what you did. But you were in a horrible part of your life and yeah, the right thing to do was go to the funeral, but you made your choice and you’ve lived with the consequences already. You have changed and grown so much since we started dating, Harry, and I can see the difference it’s making in your life. All you can do now is try and show Gemma you’ve changed. That you’re better.” 

Harry said nothing for a moment and swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’ve tried to go home to her for years and every time I get close, I see how happy they are without me and it stops me. There was one Summer I even made it to the front gate and saw Gemma and Lola through the window. They looked so happy. Lola was so big and Gemma looked at peace. I didn’t want to destroy that.”

“Don’t you think she’d be happier knowing she had her brother back?” You asked softly, dropping your hands from his face to grab his hands instead.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “My mum has been trying to get me to go back for a long time, always trying to convince me that everyone missed me. That Gemma missed me. I never went because I was thinking about myself instead of her. It was easier for me to stay away than confront what I did. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be that person.” 

He sounded so determined and he was. He always appreciated your honesty and you kept him accountable time and time again but you did it in a way that still supported him. You listened to him fully and offered support and advice. You didn’t act like he was a monster. He hoped that you felt like that on the inside too.

“Is that what the phone call was about? Her birthday?” 

Harry nodded. “My mum has been hounding me about it for months. When the call happened I wasn’t ready to tell you because I was scared I’d lose you. Really fucking scared. I know it upset you, baby, and I’m so sorry.” He squeezed your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t want to. I hope I haven’t lost you because I was ashamed.”

“You haven’t.” You smiled, squeezing his hands. “You haven't. I was upset at the time, but I didn’t want to press you because you’re allowed to have things that are just yours... I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.” You reached up to cup his cheek, watching the way he nuzzled into your touch, eyes fluttering closed at the comfort he felt. “I don’t think you’re that person anymore, Harry. I think Gemma would appreciate the work you’ve put into yourself to become a better person.”

“You think so?” He whispered, scanning your face with his eyes. 

You nodded. “I think it’ll take time. I honestly don’t know how things will work out because I don’t know her, but I know you and I know you’ll do everything you can to fix things with her. You’re her brother, Harry.”

“I love you,” Harry murmured, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck to draw you in for a kiss. This wasn’t the end of this conversation by any means. You had questions and you hoped that he’d be a lot more open about his family now. This was such an intense, deep-rooted issue. If he wanted to talk about it more, which you hoped he did, it wouldn’t happen in one night. 

The kiss deepened ever so slightly, ending with a little run of his tongue against your bottom lip while he rested his forehead against yours. “Will you come with me?” 

“What? Where? To London?” You blinked, a little surprised at his sudden request. 

He nodded, tightening his hand in your hair just a little. It wasn’t to hurt you, just to feel you. “I don’t know if I can do it by myself. I want you there.”

“Harry-” you tried to interrupt, but it was like he felt your hesitation before you even said anything. 

“I can show you my hometown, my house. You can meet my mum, maybe even Gemma. I just… I don’t want to leave you. I want you to come with me.”  

This felt like something he needed to do by himself. It happened before he even knew you and was such an important step in his life. Family is family and it would almost feel like an intrusion to be there when he’d be sorting through so much history. 

“Harry…” you sighed, leaning back. “I want nothing more than to support you but I have school. I don’t know if I can take time off and I’ve still got this trip planned at the end of the year with my friends. Money wise too… it’s a lot and it’s so soon.”

“You wouldn’t have to pay for a thing, y/n. I’d never let you do that.” His voice turned lower just a touch like he was almost reprimanding you for even suggesting he’d let you pay for a single thing. “And I think it might even align with your semester break, at least some of it anyway. Even if you flew in later and met me there? We could travel. I could take you to my house in Italy.” He was trying so hard to convince you but by the look on your face, it wasn’t working. 

“It’s not just that, Harry.” You chuckled at his attempts to convince you, which actually were quite appealing. “I love you and the idea of Italy and seeing where you grew up is so… amazing but I think this is something you need to do by yourself. There is so much history there and so much you need to work through. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to go.” 

“I want you to come.” He coaxed, pecking you quickly. God when he had that almost pouty look on his face and murmured so sweetly… you’d agree to anything. “You can do your own thing. You’ve always wanted to go to London. There’s so much to do and you can do whatever you want. As long as I get to see you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Have you in my bed every night.” Now the thought of that was extremely appealing. “Just think about it. Please.” 

“I’ll think about it.” You compromised, smiling softly. 

“Thank you.” He kissed you again before wrapping his arms around you to draw you into his chest. Both of you knew you had to head home, but it wasn’t the right time for you to leave. You couldn’t. 

You spent the next hour or so just wrapped in his arms, then him wrapped in yours. He opened up a little more about Gemma and his extended family and he already seemed so much more open to speak about them. You could tell this was something that weighed heavy on him for a long time. 

Archie made his way from outside at some point too, bringing in a trail of dust and leaves that broke the tension in the room and let you and Harry distract yourselves by bathing him. He had been running a muck outside the entire time, obsessively playing with a new toy Harry bought him. He was so engrossed in it, that he didn’t even know you came over. 

That was probably a good idea since you and Harry spent a lot of your time together naked. You swear Archie had PTSD from Harry’s instruction to go to his bed.

It was late by the time you peeled yourself from Harry, not wanting to leave but knowing you had to. He didn’t want you to leave either but you promised to come over before you left in the morning. He was tempted to come home with you and you had a feeling he might drive back in his own car so he could spend the night with you, or even the day before driving back in the night. 

It was times like these where you hated that your parents didn’t know about him. After learning everything, maybe it was time. 

“Hey, baby.” Your mum greeted, hugging you the moment you walked into your kitchen. 

“Hi.” You smiled, hugging her back. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, pumpkin.” He hugged you next, kissing your forehead before returning to the pot he was stirring on the stove. 

“Sorry I took forever, I was catching up with Harry then Archie ended up dragging dirt through the house so I stayed to help him clean up.” You explained, hoping she bought the excuse. There was this expression on her face that just told you she didn’t believe you, but she didn’t say anything about it so you decided to leave it and not say too much. Otherwise, she’d really know something was up if you started waffling. 

“It’s nice you two have stayed so close.” There was something about the way she focused on the word ‘close’, but she had a glass of wine in hand and always liked to read into things when she got a bit tipsy. You hoped you were just being a little paranoid. “You think he’ll give you your job back over your semester break?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I might just plan my shifts at the cafe so I can be here for a couple of days then at mine for a couple of days. I don’t want to cut my shifts at the cafe completely.”

“Mh.” She agreed, “think about it. You know I like having you around.”

“I know. I like being here too.” You smiled, “I’m going to shower and get changed quickly. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright. Don’t be too long.” She called after you. 

“I won’t!”

The night continued as it always did. Dinner, a glass of wine, an update on your week of uni and your night out with your friends (sans Harry, of course). Then Dad went to his office to do some quotes and your mum and you wound up on the couch watching The Real Housewives. Another couple glasses of wine was involved, but it was a Saturday night and you had nowhere to be tomorrow except home. 

Perfect.

Until your mum paused the show while you got up to get a snack and when you returned, she had no plans of playing it again. She had this look on her face, like she was getting ready to announce something really big or ask you an invasive question. 

It was the latter.

“Are you okay?” You asked, landing on the couch with a heavy seat. The wine slowly infused in your body, making you feel like a heavy lump of bones. You were getting to the point where one more sip of wine would knock you out and your pillow was calling your name.

“I need to ask you something.” She shifted on the couch, sitting cross legged while facing you. She still had her glass of wine in hand, eyeing it like she had a nervous tick.

“Okay…” you looked at her a little funny, taking a sip of wine. 

“Are you sleeping with Harry?” At her words, your eyes widened and the wine suddenly travelled down the wrong hole. You coughed repeatedly and Mum was quick to lean forward to tap your back until your coughing subsided. “Our neighbour, Harry.”

“Thanks for the clarification, Mum, but I only know one Harry.” You coughed, rubbing the sore spot over your chest. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Just answer the question. Is it true?”

Shit. What were you even meant to do? You didn’t want to lie about it because the truth would always come out, but you also weren’t ready to talk about it. You had this whole speech planned and all these things you wanted to say when you brought it up to her and now that she was the one asking you about it, there was nothing in your head.  

You felt bombarded by it. But maybe it was better to tell her first before your dad found out. At least this way you could explain everything and diffuse any worries so when he found out, your mum would be on your side. And you knew she would be. Or hopeful at best. Maybe not at first, but all she wanted was your happiness and if Harry made you happy, she’d support you with it.  

Your parents had always told you that they didn’t care what you did with your life as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. They’d support you if it truly was what you wanted. When they said that they were talking about work, not dating your neighbour, but it still applied. 

It would be a shock to them and you knew that, but no one was getting hurt and you were happier than you had ever been. You knew they’d understand. Eventually anyway. 

“Um…” you trailed off, looking away briefly. “Yes? But we’re not sleeping together, we’re… we’re dating.” Even though you could tell she wasn’t surprised, the look of pure disappointment on her face expressed exactly how she felt. She didn’t want you to say yes. “I was going to tell you.” You jumped in again before she replied, wanting to get as much out as possible before she gave her opinion. “I swear. I wanted to tell you and Dad both at the same time so you two wouldn’t get all weird with each other if one of you knew first.”

“Oh god, y/n!” Mum pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a heavy sip of wine before continuing like it would somehow make the news easier to bear. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. I prayed that you weren’t and yet here we are.”

“You knew? How?”

“I didn’t know, but I kind of worked it out. You've been a little giddier than usual. Always looking at your phone and you’re always going over there when you come to visit. He's been different too. Less broody and secretive and he's been getting a dogsitter for Archie for a lot more overnights than usual. Mother’s know these things, y/n. So… explain. How did it start?”

Was it seriously that obvious? When she put it like that, it kind of was obvious that you were seeing someone. She wasn't particularly upset by it, but her tone wasn't overly jovial either. She was calm. Calm was good.

Though it could've been the wine making her more relaxed.

“I guess we kind of got closer as I dogsat Archie. We’d always talk for ages and we had that weekly dinner, which you knew about. Then one day… I don’t know. Things changed.” You averted eye contact, feeling a blush graze your cheeks at the memory of the first time you two slept together. 

“You were sleeping together?” You nodded silently, knowing that she’d be able to tell if you were lying. “When?”

“What?”

“When was the first time?”

“Mum.” You protested, “you don’t need to know that.”

“I do, actually because now that I know it happened, I need to know when it started.”

“Yes but-”

“So when was the first time, y/n?”

You clearly weren't getting out of this one.

“...A few weeks before his birthday, I guess.”

“A few weeks before his birthday.” She repeated to herself, “so you were dogsitting for him and having dinner with him for weeks and what? You two were just sleeping together each time just like that? All those times you came home ‘late’, you were sleeping with him? Right next door? Have you slept with him here?”

“Mum, stop!” You whined, hating how she seemed to be spiralling about the fact you had sex. 

Her questions were practically spitfire and if you didn't stop her now, she'd continue and her questions would get way more invasive. She always was like that when she drank. Nosy and more brazen than usual. Dad always said it was because she was pretty that she got away with the way she ran her mouth when she drank.

Mum was harmless, but God if there was even a smidge of a secret hanging around she'd find out and talk about it to anyone and everyone.

She knew you weren’t a virgin and while you didn’t share every detail of your sex life, she knew you had slept with a couple of guys. You were always open and honest with her to an extent because you valued her advice, especially when your heart got involved and you ended up getting hurt. But right now you didn’t want to hear her fears or her spiralling bout the fact you had sex next door when you knew she and Dad had sex only two rooms away from you. If it were up to her, she’d know every detail about every aspect of your life.

You understood it to an extent and you practically did share everything with her. But seriously. Boundaries. 

“I love you but it’s none of your business. I don’t ask when you and dad have sex because that’s disgusting so don’t ask me!” 

“Fine. Fine. You’re right.” She let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Just tell me you’re still on birth control and we can move on.”

“Yes. I am.”

“Good because I swear to God, y/n, if you come home pregnant...”

“Mum!”

“I had to say it, okay? It’s my job as a mother. Now continue.”

“It wasn’t serious at first and neither-” you paused to give her a warning glance when it looked like she was going to make another comment about your sex life. She only rolled her eyes and sipped her wine again, attentively listening to you talk, “neither of us wanted a relationship and I always said to you too that it didn’t interest me but he somehow managed to change my mind about it all. He didn't mean to and he was further away from commitment than I was... but the longer it went on, the more we realised that it was more than just casual." You let out a sigh, "I didn’t want to like him mum, I didn’t. There were problems and he had problems and I knew it was stupid to fall for someone who lived his whole life single and selfish but things changed and kept changing. He changed.”

The whole time you spoke, she actively listened. She didn’t try to interrupt or even make any weird noises of indignation that your dad definitely would. She just listened and processed it. You appreciated that. 

“It wasn’t an easy beginning to our relationship because we had a lot of differences and he… he hurt me really bad. I almost told you back then too because he broke my heart. Really bad.” Your voice broke slightly, feeling that same break in your heart that you did at the very beginning.

“Y/n.” She soothed, placing her hand on yours over your knee. “You could’ve told me back then, y’know. I would’ve been there for you. I'm a little hurt you didn't trust me enough to come talk to me about this.”

“It's not about trust, mum. You know I trust you. Everything was just so complicated and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t really think we’d get back together, anyway, so I didn’t want to start something and have you storm to his house to tell him off for no reason when I thought it was over.”

“I would’ve done that. I can still do that for you, if you want?” She smiled, sipping her wine again.

“No, don't," You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “We worked things out and… well we never looked back. Before we ended our casual relationship so badly, Harry was really complicated and secretive and God sometimes I wanted to strangle him. But when we got back together… he changed everything for me, mum. He worked on himself and is still working on himself and honestly, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been. He treats me so so well and he spoils me and loves me everyday and-”

“He loves you?” She interrupted, “as in you loves you.”

You nodded.

“And you love him back?”

You took an extra moment to respond to her, not really sure where she was going with her comments. “I do. I know I do.”

“y/n…” She sighed. You could feel the change in the air. How her active listening turned to disappointment and a hope that your relationship would end before it properly started. “I honestly thought that you were just dating and having fun and he was buying you nice things, but love? I have no doubt you feel that way towards him but isn’t it too soon?”

“I just know, mum. I had no control over it and I never meant for it to happen but it did and… and I’m happy. I’m so happy with him and even with the distance and everything else, we’re making it work.”

“But how? He’s not too much younger than your dad and I and he’s got no kids, has never been married? Everyone knows he’s had his fun and sleeps with whoever he wants, what’s to say he doesn’t still want that? And then there’s the opposite. What if he’s finally done with being a bachelor and wants to settle and have kids before he gets too old? Is that what you want? Because I know it’s not.” She gave you this look and crossed her arms over her chest, like she already knew what your answer would be.

She seemed to know all your answers tonight.

“Of course I don’t want that. Not now anyway. But he doesn’t want that and he doesn’t want to sleep around either.” 

“So you two haven’t spoken about settling down?” She fired back, already knowing that you had. Your mum was the best reader of people and relationships, probably because she stuck her nose in everyone's business and knew all the ways they failed.

“I mean we have but not for now. Like… just so we both know that this isn’t a short term kind of thing.”

“Y/n, baby. You are so young. So young and gorgeous and smart.” She soothed, leaning forward to cup your face and run her hands over your hair. “You have your whole life in front of you and the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you settling down with someone who’s already experienced everything? Would you not rather explore the world with someone who hasn’t seen it over and over again?”

“Mum, I can still do everything I want to do when I’m with him." You exasperated, brushing her hands off you. "I can travel and work overseas if I want and I still see my friends and do everything normal. Being in a relationship doesn’t stop that and if anything, Harry’s position makes it easier. He’s stable financially and is happy to slow down and do what I want. It’s not that he doesn’t get a say, but he’s got the freedom and wants to experience everything with me. It may not seem like it, but he’s got a lot of firsts too, mum. Trust me, I’ve thought about it all.”

“Look, I don’t know him very well.” She sighed, settling back against the couch. “He’s been living next door for nearly five years and I couldn’t even tell you what footy team he supports, but he’s always been polite and charming. All I can do is go off that and what you tell me and if you’re telling me you’re happy then… I guess I’m happy too. I just don’t want you to get hurt, y/n. By anyone.”

“I know. I don’t want that either but I promise you’ll love him like I do. You’ll see why he means so much to me. You and dad.” You smiled, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.

“I hope so.” She smiled back, squeezing your hand in return. “So tell me more. Tell me everything.”

The next few hours were spent practically debriefing your entire relationship. You kept the bigger problems private as she simply wouldn’t understand the Ethan situation, but you told her everything else you two had been through. If it had something to do with Ethan, you twisted the story a little but for the most part, it was an amazing chat.

You loved your mum more than anything and to actually sit there and talk about Harry so freely and honestly and have her engage properly was the best feeling ever. She freely gave advice (even when you didn’t want it) but you were happy with that. You didn’t have a lot of boy problems so actually having someone to talk about with her was everything to you. It made you hopeful for the future of your relationship with Harry and took so much weight off your shoulders.

It was liberating.

“Oh god…” mum wheezed, her laughter coming to a stop as she finished off her final glass of wine for the evening. “I’m too drunk right now but in the morning we’ll brainstorm how to get back at chatty Cathy across the road. She can never ever keep her mouth shut. That woman.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Your brows furrowed and that happy, calm energy you had somehow dissipated into thin air. 

“Tracey? The only reason I asked you if you were seeing Harry was because Tracey’s been hinting at it for weeks. I thought I told you.”

“No… you didn’t.”

Your mind was suddenly twisting and turning. After everything you had been through with her and Ethan and even just the shit between you and Harry, she still wouldn’t leave you alone. You had done nothing to her and left her alone since you moved out for school and yet she still had to run her mouth off about you? You just didn’t get it. 

Harry had recordings over her admitting to lying to you and you had photos of her cheating and she knew that and still decided to try and get some attention her way? Nope. Not on your fucking watch. 

You were over it. You were over being the target of people who you had nothing to do with. Who only wanted to use you to get money or for some other stupid fucking reason that meant nothing in real life. You were done. So if she was going to run her big fat mouth about you, then you were going to do it right back and you were going to hit her where it hurt the most. Her family.

//

It was only a couple of days later when the truth came out. You weren’t trying to hide it from Harry but it also wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have over the phone. He got called into work for some client emergency on Sunday which ruined his plan to come spend the day and/or night with you. Then neither of you could see the other until Tuesday as he planned to work from home on Wednesday. 

You were glad that his quiet days seemed to align with yours because it meant you could spend more time together. Even if you were both busy working or doing uni work, just being in his presence was enough to make you happy. And now that your mum knew about you two… it was only a matter of time before you could start spending nights at his house too.

“Baby?” You heard Harry’s voice echo through your apartment, easily being heard in the shower due to your thin walls. 

“In here.” You yelled back, scrubbing your nails through your scalp to rinse out the remaining conditioner. Harry accidentally went home with your keypass after going on his morning run the last time he stayed over. He kept it in his shorts pocket so he wouldn’t wake you and it wound up in his bags somehow, hence his ability to enter your place without you needing to go downstairs and get him. He wasn’t really meant to have them, but it was only for a couple of days and Maeve had your spares so you could still get in and out easily.

“Can I come in?” He asked a moment later, knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Yeah.”

Wordlessly, he opened the door and let himself in, scanning your naked body from head to toe. You were facing the wall with your eyes closed, head tilted back so the water was streaming down your hair. Gorgeous. He had been craving you all day. It was just one of those days where it was shit after shit and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with you and just be wrapped in your arms. 

“Can I join you?” Harry asked softly, itching to jump in the hot water with you. He was already loosening his tie. Before entering your bathroom he took off his jacket and shoes so he was ready to let the rest of his clothes fall to the ground without care. You always had showers extremely hot and now that the weather was cooling down, Harry quite liked the sauna it left behind in the bathroom. He didn’t particularly enjoy it when it was 30° outside but he never let that stop him from getting in a shower with you.

“Of course, you can.” You smiled, still facing away from him. You always felt a little vulnerable being in a shower with him. Even though he had seen your body plenty of times, there was still something so sacred and personal about getting clean. You were glad you had already washed yourself before he came in because the last thing you needed him to see was you plucking out one of your long hairs from your underarms or ass. 

“I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here.” You hummed, feeling the slide of his cold bare hands along your hips as he joined you in the shower.

“Yeah, I had to work late. ‘M sorry to keep you waiting.” He murmured, kissing your shoulder while wrapping his arms fully around you. You sighed into the touch, tilting your head back to welcome the feeling of his body around yours. He snuggled against you, proper bear-hugging you while digging his forehead into the crook of your neck. 

“It’s okay. Maeve dragged me to a late Pilates class so I had to wash my hair. I swear I sweat like two litres every time.” You laughed softly, “I would’ve waited for you. I like being at the door to greet you.”

“I like having you greet me too.” He kissed your neck softly, “did you have fun at Pilates? I haven’t been for a while.”

“I liked it. It was a beginner class so no handstands or anything like you do but I’m sore already. ” You teased, turning around slowly to face him. He kept your body close, immediately kissing you once your faces were in line. “We should go together sometime. I’ve been trying to get Jay to go but he keeps blowing me off.” You offered, immediately sensing that something was off with him. 

“I’d like that.” He murmured, pressing his lips against yours again. Harry was craving your comfort. He didn’t want to start anything or get too riled up, he just loved the warmth that spread through his chest when his mouth melted into yours. It could be a peck, a pash, a full snogging session. It didn’t matter. 

You combed your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “How was your day?”

“Shit. Just one of those days, y’know.” Harry replied, pressing your foreheads together before kissing you again. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too. Do you want to talk about it?” You slowly eased your bodies around so he was facing the water instead of you. He shook his head and let his eyes flutter closed as the hot water streamed over his head. You pushed his hair back from his face, kissing his chest. “Okay.” When Harry wanted to talk he’d willingly do so, so you weren’t going to push him. Sometimes work was just shit and you got that. He’d probably talk about it later once he decompressed and relaxed. “You want me to wash your hair?”  

A smile grew on his face at your offer and he tipped his head down to look at you. Harry loved having his hair played with and his scalp scratched. He was like a cat. Sometimes he’d just lay there with his head on your lap for hours while you played with his hair. You first found it out during sex because he liked the pain, especially when his head was between your thighs so it only made sense he’d like it out of the bedroom too. 

“You sure?”

You nodded and reached up on your tippy toes to kiss him. “Turn around.” 

He pecked your mouth gently as a thank you then turned around to face the water. Wordlessly, you grabbed your shampoo and squeezed some onto your hands, rubbing them together to emulsify before you brought them to his scalp. 

Harry moaned as you massaged his scalp, using your nails to scratch as you went. “That feels good.” 

“Good.” You hummed, happy to look at the expanse of his back. His back muscles were incredible. 

It sometimes amazed you how fit he was, but with his daily runs and intense personal training sessions he somehow managed to squeeze into his routine, it really was no wonder that he looked the way he did. He worked his ass off to be as fit as he was and to stay that way and it all paid off because his physique was better than any boy your age.

You joined him in a personal training session once and you had no doubt any of the boys you had been with in the past would fail halfway through. Would you say you participated in said session? No. You were lugged over his shoulders so he could use your weight to do squats though. 

“Are we okay?” Harry asked suddenly, voice soft. 

“Of course we are.” You replied instantly. “Why wouldn’t we be?” You continued rubbing circles on his scalp, massaging him to make it more pleasurable and relaxing. Your arms were already starting to ache a little, but it was worth it. 

“I’m just making sure.” 

“I love you, Harry. Nothing will change that.” You murmured, running your hands down from his scalp to massage his neck and over his shoulder. He echoed the sentiment, voice just audible over the water as your lips created the trail for your hands to follow; over his neck and the expanse of his shoulders, down to the middle of his back and as low as you could go without bending. 

The tension was slowly leaving his body. Tense muscles melting and relaxing, his tense shoulders slumping until he was heavy on his feet. He was completely pliant to your touch and you couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around him and cuddle in bed. Part of you even wanted to skip dinner and head straight to bed.

“Rinse it, H.” You whispered, kissing a little freckle on his back before pulling back to give him space to turn around. He started scrubbing the shampoo out while you prepared his conditioner, rubbing it through your hands so it covered all your fingers. 

“Y’know something interesting did happen today. It was quite a spectacle in the neighbourhood.” Harry mused, already feeling better just by your touch and loving words. He stayed facing towards you to catch your reaction, which was as easy to read as ever. 

“What?” You froze for a split second while reaching to thread the conditioner through his hair, already knowing exactly what he was talking about. 

“Tracey was kicked out. Unfortunately I was already on my way to work but she was crying so loud everyone on the street was watching. Apparently, he found out she was cheating on him. You know anything about that?” He had this look of knowing on his face and it was like he knew that you had something to do with it. 

Shit. 

“About that…” you smiled sheepishly, putting your hands down to let the conditioner sit in his hair. 

“I knew it!” He accused, laughing while squeezing your hips. “What did you do?”

“Okay, but you can’t be mad.” You laughed, poking his chest. “I was going to tell you tonight, okay?” 

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” His brows knitted together, “I’m sure whatever you did had good reasoning behind it.”

“Well, yeah she’s a cunt but it’s not that.” Harry laughed loudly at your comment and you could feel his mood being lifted like steam dissipating in the air. You had such a fucking mouth on you sometimes. He loved it. “When I got home after we had that talk, everything was normal until my mum and I were watching TV after dinner. She said she had to talk about something and then just flat-out asked me if you and I were sleeping together! Like it was nothing.” 

“Shit.” His eyes widened, “And what did you tell her?”

“I told her the… truth.” You were a little nervous to tell him. A lot nervous actually. You knew he was ready to tell your parents whenever you were, but it felt wrong to have that conversation without him. But you couldn’t exactly call him or go over to his house after he just told you about his nephew. That would’ve been all sorts of fucked. Your mum knowing about you two dating meant nothing compared to what he was going through. 

“You did?”

“Yes. I’m really sorry.” You rushed out. “I wanted you to know when I was going to do it but I couldn’t lie to her when she was straight out asking me the question.”

“And you thought I’d be mad?” He scoffed, laughing softly while tucking your hair behind your ear. “Baby, the only way I’d be mad is if you were pressured into doing something you weren’t ready for. Were you okay having that conversation with her? I know… I know you weren’t ready to tell your parents yet.”

“Harry she asked me because Tracey was talking shit. After everything, everything we went through and all the fucked up shit she did and she still can’t leave me alone. I’ve done nothing to her.”

That manipulative cunt. 

Harry didn’t like to use that word very often. Other than the obvious use when he was trying to degrade you. But there was simply no other word in the English language that summed up who Tracey was. Desperate? Yes. Annoying? Just the sound of her breathing had Harry gritting his teeth. But the only word that truly encompassed everything about her was cunt.

He had no idea that her being kicked out was because she was causing problems again. He assumed it had something to do with you because you were cheeky and sneaky at times, but he didn’t expect this. After everything that happened, he thought you guys were done with her. 

“What the fuck? Fucking hell, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me?” He was getting a little frustrated at you now and you could see it in his expression. You just grabbed his hair and tilted his hair back, forcing his hair back under the water to rinse the conditioner out. Even though he was annoyed you didn’t tell him, he was still pliant to your touch and it took very minimal effort to maneuver his head. 

“Because we just spoke about your family and my drama literally doesn’t matter compared to what you’re going through. I didn’t want to bother you and then I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

“Of course it matters.” He scoffed, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit by yourself. I thought she was dealt with, but clearly not. How long have you known?”

“I found out when my mum asked me about us. I had no idea anything was happening before that.”

“So… what? Tracey’s been running her mouth?”

“Basically.” You sighed, still running your fingers through his hair to get rid of the last bits of conditioner. “She hasn’t said anything directly, but she’s been making comments and saying random things that makes people think that we’re sleeping together. At least that’s what my mum said.”

“I don’t get why she’s doing this.” He sighed, “You’ve moved out and we’ve left her alone after everything that happened. She’s got no reason to come after us again.”

“Like I said, she’s a cunt.” Your words came out matter-of-factly, eliciting a roll of Harry’s eyes. “She’s probably bored and thinks that it’s easy to use me to have her fun because I’m not there to defend myself.”

“Bullshit. I’m there to defend you. Why isn’t she scared of me?” Harry scoffed, eliciting a laugh in response.

“Harry she’s obsessed with you and even if you blackmailed her and stomped all over her old wrinkly heart, she still wants you.”

“I didn’t stomp over anything. And I’m taking your old wrinkly statement as an insult.”

“Yeah right. You love being the ripe age of 39. ‘I get sexier with age, y/n’.” You quoted, attempting to mimic his low raspy accent. He raised a brow and immediately went for your sensitive spots, squeezing your waist with light twinkling fingers in an attempt to tickle you. “Stop!” You squealed, hitting his hands away. “Stop it Harry!”

“Admit I get sexier as I age. Admit it.” He threw back, wrapping one arm around your waist while using the other to tickle you. 

“I hate you!” You tried to push his hand off, laughing and wiggling and squealing all at the same time. It didn’t help that you two were still very much naked. “Whatever. You’re sexier as you age.”

The tickling stopped instantly and Harry had this smug grin on his face, happy that he beat you. “Thank you.”

“You’re a child.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come on. Finish the story.” He laughed softly, looping his arms around your waist. 

“I don’t even know what I was up to before your ego got bruised.”

He chose to ignore that statement. “You were explaining how obsessed Tracey is with me.”

“Oh, right. She’s obsessed with you so obviously she won’t be scared and she’s not threatened by me. She really didn’t think that I’d retaliate in any way even if I told her I would and now look at her. I think I handled it pretty fucking perfectly.” You announced proudly. 

It felt a little evil to be so happy over someone elses pain. You had ruined Tracey’s life and yet you were satisfied. It felt justified. In the beginning you never wanted to use your threats against her. You just wanted to be left alone, even if that meant sitting on evidence that she was having an affair. Now though… you felt worse about keeping it a secret than using it to get back at her.

“I’d say so.” Harry laughed. “How did it all happen?”

“She goes to pilates on Sundays so I waited until she was gone and went over to speak with Oscar. All I did was tell the truth and show him one of the photos of her and Ethan. I felt really bad for him, actually. He believed me even before I showed him a photo but he still wanted to see it, probably for proof so he doesn’t have to pay her out.” 

“Well shit.” Harry laughed, quickly turning you both around so you got some of the hot water. “He clearly didn’t take it well.”

You shook your head. “No. I could tell he was trying not to cry. I feel like I should’ve told him earlier.” You looked away for a moment, “it feels wrong to use one persons tragedy to get back at someone else. Like this is probably the worst thing to ever happen to him and I used it to get back at her. He doesn’t deserve that. Neither do his kids.”

“I know. The truth had to come out some way, though. It always does. Don’t blame yourself too much for it just because you benefited from it in some way. ” He grabbed your chin gently, guiding you to look back at him. “How did your mum react when you told her about us, anyway?” 

You were glad he was switching back to your mum because you really didn’t want to dwell to much on Tracey of all people. Or the shittiness you felt. 

“She already knew before Tracey started talking about us. She had this look on her face like she was waiting for me to outright say it.” 

“Wow. Really?”

“Yeah… she said it was mother’s intuition or whatever. I’m surprised she waited this long to say something about it, to be honest. She usually can’t keep her mouth shut and she already had a glass of wine when we spoke about it.”

Harry smiled at your comment, smoothing his hands over your back. “Was she upset about it? What did she say?”

“We spoke about it for a long time. She wasn’t upset but not thrilled either. I told her how happy I am and a little bit about our relationship so far and she seemed happy that it’s going well, but she’s still worried. I think she’s worried about the age gap and… well, your reputation. She doesn’t want me to get hurt.” 

You didn’t really want to go through the entire conversation with him. Nothing bad happened but it also felt like something that just you and your mum needed to know about. She gave you a lot of advice that made you feel lucky to have someone like her in your life. She was concerned but she actually listened to you, even when the conversation went a little wild, she listened to you and shared her own opinion as well. It went as well as you could’ve hoped. 

“My reputation as in…”

“Your one night stands. Obviously, I assured her that she didn’t have to worry about it. She thinks you’re charming but I think that also scares her. You’re the first real relationship I’ve had and it’s not exactly conventional and… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking away for a moment, “She said that she hoped my first love would be someone my age, that I’d date more before feeling so strongly about someone.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that. So far, your mum’s concerns were valid ones and ones he expected. He never thought it would be easy or something your parents would understand right away and he prepared himself for that. They weren’t much older than him so navigating his relationship with them and you would take time. 

But he didn’t like the way those words came out of your mouth. That your mum hoped your first love was someone else and that you had more experience with other people before settling down. You two weren’t exactly planning for a baby or anything, it had barely been four months, and neither of you put any expectations on your relationship. You were young and he never imagined himself as the marrying type so you both just wanted to date and love each other and see how things evolved.

But you were still in it for the long haul with each other. This wasn’t a short term arrangement or something casual. You two loved each other. 

For Harry, he had already experienced heartbreak in all forms and he had grown from that. The Harry that survived his very first love was a completely different person to now. It wasn’t the only thing that shaped him to be the man he was today, but it contributed a lot to his life. He was at a point in his life now where meeting you and falling in love with you had completely changed how he thought his life would go.

He wanted to settle down with you. He couldn’t picture a future without you in it and you made it very clear that you loved him more than anything and you wanted to have that future with him. 

But you didn’t have what Harry had. You didn’t have years of making mistakes and meeting people and exploring yourself. Of figuring out who you are and what you want in life. You can do that with a partner and Harry knew he could show you the world and provide experiences you might not have if you were by yourself, but if you took the romance and his undying love for you out of the equation, would he encourage you to give your all to him? 

If it were anyone else, he’d tell them to keep their options open and grab any opportunities given to them. Was he holding you back from that?

“Do you wish you did? Have more relationships before me?” He solemnly asked, brows knitted together while he waited your reaction. 

That was a hard question to answer. But you had no regrets in dating Harry and that’s all that mattered. “In some ways, yes. I wish I had more experience in how to navigate even being in a relationship. But mostly no. There’s no one else I’d want to share my firsts with. In a lot of ways, you’re my first everything and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You cupped his face, running your thumbs under his cheeks. “Loving you is the happiest I’ve ever been and hopefully now, the people we love will be part of that too.”

Harry’s gaze softened and time seemed to still around you two. Having this conversation in such a vulnerable place like a shower only added to the intimacy of it all. You had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs. It happened with a look or a sigh, your gorgeous smile. And it definitely happened when you said things like this. 

“I want to give you the world, y/n. I want to give you everything you want. You tell me and it’s yours.” He murmured, gazing deep in your eyes.

“I just want you.” You whispered, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really.”

His eyes flickered between yours as he tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against yours. His wet hair dripped down your cheek, running down your jaw and neck, all the way until it joined the water at your feet. “I just want you too. Always.” 

You smiled and pulled his mouth down towards you, pressing your body against his to get impossibly closer to him. He wrapped his arms fully around you, squeezing you against him so every inch of your pretty soft skin melted into his. Your mouths blended into one, lips brushing together in a slow languid kiss. 

His tongue slid across your bottom lip and you freely gave him access to your mouth so he could slip in and run his tongue against yours. God, everything about it was so sexy. The steam clouding over you both, how good your wet bodies felt pressed together… the way his cock started to harden against your thigh, unable to spring up in that way you loved due to how close you two were. 

“I think…” You gasped, breaking free to run your mouth over his jaw. “You should finish your shower…” You pressed kisses in a path towards his ear, kissing his lobe once you got there before playfully tugging at it between your teeth. Harry whimpered in your ear, reaching down to squeeze your ass in both hands. “...and join me in bed.”

With that, you kissed his neck then unwrapped yourself from his arms, smirking as you slid past him to grab your towel. His hand snapped out suddenly, clasping around your wrist. “Don’t go.”

Harry looked like a starved man. His chest was heaving, cock heavy and hard between his legs and his lips all red and puffy from your kisses. You would’ve fucked him right there if shower sex didn’t scare the hell out of you. 

“I’ll get you a towel.” You blew him a little kiss, ignoring the crazed look in his eyes and walking away. Oh did you love a tease. 

It wasn’t long before Harry had you pinned to your bed, grinding his hips in slow deliberate strokes. Your entire love making was just that, making love. It was slow and deep, full of so many kisses you could barely breathe. His body was pressed heavy on top of you and he made sure you felt every inch of him that you could. Every inch of his cock, every inch of his heavy muscle and soft sweaty skin.

The window above your bed was still open, a clear view of the moon above your heads. It was a view you two decided was worth putting your pillows down by your feet when you were finished so you could lay the opposite direction and look outside. You had a nice view of the water, though it was particularly dark outside and the moon was so bright it took your entire process. 

“I still can’t believe she knows.” Harry murmured, looking up from where his head rested on your chest.

“Who?” You whispered, missing the context of his comment, “My mum?” 

“Mmh.” he nodded, looking down to where your hands were joined and resting on your stomach. “It feels… good. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like we’re moving onto the next step.”

“I feel the same. I feel better knowing she’s supportive. I had a feeling she would be, but it’s nice knowing I’ve got her on my side when we tell my dad.”

“Mmh.” He hummed in agreement, looking at the string of pearls around your neck. You put them back on after the shower and he found himself mesmerised by the way they twinkled under the moon light. “y’know I told my mum I was seeing someone. After our weekend away.”

“You did?” you frowned slightly.

“I didn’t say anything too personal or anything because we were keeping it quiet.” He assured, sensing the slight panic in your voice. “But I wanted her to know I have someone in my life who makes me happy.” 

You smiled, that slight beat of worry completely gone. “What did you tell her about me?”

“Not much. Just your name and that you’re studying. I didn’t want to show her any photos without asking you. She gets a bit excited and I knew if I sent her something she’d tell everyone about it.” He rolled his eyes, but you could tell by his tone that he loved that quality about her. Pausing, he looked from the moon to you. “I think you’d like her.”

“She sounds like my type of gal.” You grinned, “I’m excited to meet her.” 

“I think she’d cry if you said that. Happy tears of course.” 

You laughed softly, swiping your fingers through his hair. It had dried down after the shower and your activities and became all fluffy and dishevelled. You loved it in its natural state.

“Would you like to meet her?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice soft so only you could hear it. There was no one in your apartment but you yet the moment was so intimate and quiet, he didn’t want to ruin it. “We could facetime?” He looked up at you, expression hopeful for your response. 

“Harry I’d love that.” 

“Really?” His eyes widened ever so slightly, like he was surprised you’d agree. “You would?”

“Of course I would.” You assured, smiling while dancing your fingers across his jaw. “Set it up. Whenever suits her.” 

“Okay.” He grinned, reaching up to kiss you quickly before settling back down on your chest to look out at the moon, “I will.”

It felt so right and natural to take this next step. There were nerves about it, of course, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared that Anne wouldn’t like you or that you’d make a fool out of yourself. But you knew a decent amount about her and even if you didn’t, you knew you’d love her simply based off the fact you loved Harry. That was enough. 

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