#took me a long time but i’m pretty happy with it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

surielstea · 19 hours ago

Text

Embers Entwined

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader was one of the most affected by Beron’s rule, after his death Eris was crowned High Lord and Reader became his personal servant by extension, what happens when she begins to recognize Eris for his kindness and not his cruelty?

Warnings: Beron being a right asshole as usual, and some kissing (*gasp* the scandal!)

A.Note: Sorry it’s been forever!! This one took me awhile but I’m pretty happy with it. Hope you guys enjoy too! Some Azriel smut coming out in a few days also! 💋💋

Word count: 7.9k

The ball was decadent, far grander than in previous years, though I supposed tonight warranted the excess. A special occasion, one that carried far more meaning than the usual frivolous gatherings meant only to remind the rich of their own wealth.

Tonight, the Autumn Court celebrated the coronation of Eris Vanserra. More importantly to me, we celebrated Beron's death.

I would never say such a thing aloud, never give voice to the hatred that simmered in my veins. But I knew I was not alone in my sentiments. Most despised that wretched male—just not enough to ever act against him. Beron had been cruel, but only to those within his grasp. His wife. His sons. His staff. Me, in particular—his personal courtier.

It had been my duty to obey him without question, to smile and nod and endure, no matter what vile thing he asked of me. The words he'd spoken to me, the way he'd toyed with me, broken me, forced me into submission—I would never find peace after him. I knew that.

I stood against the wall of the ballroom, my hands clasped in front of me, a pleasant, vacant smile painted on my lips. The same as always. My black dress marked me as staff, distinguishing me from the nobles twirling beneath the golden glow of the chandeliers. It wasn't an ugly dress—not physically—but the symbolism it carried made my stomach churn.

I was meant to be invisible. To stand for hours, heels biting into my feet, lips aching from feigned delight, waiting. Always waiting for the High Lord's command. That was my place.

But tonight, for the first time at an event like this, someone spoke to me. Not just someone. The newly crowned High Lord.

"Do you not wish to dance?"

His voice was smoother than I expected, rich and effortless, as though the words required no thought. When I turned my head, Eris Vanserra stood before me, resplendent in his deep forest green attire, gold-threaded embroidery glinting beneath the chandeliers. Rings adorned his fingers, catching the light as he gestured vaguely toward the center of the ballroom.

I had known Eris Vanserra since I was a girl—back when my father served as Beron's personal courtier and I trained under him, shadowing his every move. In those early years, Eris and I spent countless hours in the kennels, where I had been sent to feed the hounds, and he had sought my company. Even then, I knew better than to refuse a Vanserra. But it hadn't felt like an order. Not when he spoke so passionately about his dogs, his amber eyes alight with something rare and unguarded.

I had listened, quietly captivated, as he ran his hands through thick fur, naming each hound like they were something precious, something his father could not tarnish. And though I rarely spoke, I knew he never minded.

But time had a way of reshaping things. Our duties grew heavier, our paths diverged, and whatever thread had once tied us together frayed beneath the weight of expectation. I often wondered if he remembered—the girl who once sat beside him in the straw-covered kennels, listening in rapt silence as he spoke of things he loved. Or if I had faded into nothing more than a ghost of his childhood, long forgotten.

I snapped back to the present when I realized my hesitation, startled by his presence, by his question. By him.

I glanced at him only briefly before averting my gaze. I had long since learned better than to expect kindness from the Vanserras, Eris or not. "I'm working, my lord," I answered smoothly, forcing the usual mask into place. "Besides, the late Lord Beron was always particular about the servantry enjoying themselves at these sorts of things."

A flicker of something crossed Eris's face at my words. Perhaps it was amusement, perhaps something else. I wasn't certain. Then, he did something I never would have expected. He extended his hand to me, palm up. A silent command. I stared at it, my heart stuttering.

Was this a trick? A test? Was he waiting for me to disobey so he could remind me of my place? "Well," he mused, tilting his head, "I'm not Beron, am I?"

I swallowed thickly, but I did not take his hand. His amber eyes gleamed as he studied me, something unreadable lurking beneath their molten depths. "You were my father's personal courtier, yes?"

"Correct, my lord."

"And now that he's gone, you're mine." A statement, not a question.

I nodded.

"And you're required to do as I say."

Another nod.

"Then take my hand." His voice was softer now, quieter. "Dance with me." My breath caught in my throat. I hesitated. Was he attempting to humiliate me?

I had seen what his brothers were capable of, how they had reveled in Beron's cruelty, how they had wielded it against others for their own entertainment. I had heard the stories about Eris—his ruthlessness, his ambition, his callous disregard for those beneath him. I had no reason to believe he was any different.

Yet something about the way he stood there, hand still outstretched, gaze unwavering, made my stomach tighten. He wasn't forcing me. He wasn't demanding. He was patient. I hated him for that. For making me doubt my own certainty.

But in the end, I had no choice. With a deep inhale, I placed my hand in his. His fingers curled around mine—warm, steady. Not gripping. But I knew better than to believe in illusions.

Eris Vanserra was his father's son. And I would never trust him.

The moment my hand settled in his, a hush seemed to fall over the space around us—not total silence, but a ripple in the atmosphere, a shift in attention that pressed against my skin like a physical thing.

They were watching. The nobles, the courtiers, the sycophants who had spent years learning to fear and obey Beron, and by extension, his eldest son. They watched, likely waiting for me to make a mistake, waiting to see what game Eris Vanserra was playing.

I was waiting, too. But if this was some cruel trick, he did not let it show.

Eris led me toward the dance floor with unhurried ease, his grip firm but not forceful. A reminder, perhaps, that I was following him willingly. I didn't know what unsettled me more—that he had given me a real choice, or that, despite knowing better, a part of me wanted to believe he truly meant no harm.

The moment we stepped onto the floor, the nearest dancers shifted subtly away, giving us space without making it obvious. No one wanted to be caught in the High Lord's wake, in whatever he was planning.

He turned to face me, releasing my hand only to settle one warm palm against my waist, the other clasping mine once more. I stiffened beneath his touch, the weight of it burning even through the fabric of my dress.

"Relax," he murmured, amusement curling through his tone. "It's a dance, not an execution."

I forced my muscles to remain neutral, my expression placid, though I could still feel the weight of a hundred gazes searing into me. "That remains to be seen."

His lips curved slightly. "If I wanted to make a spectacle of you, I'd have chosen something far more dramatic." He guided me into movement, a slow, fluid step that I had no choice but to follow. "But I much prefer this."

I nearly scoffed, but reeled in my tone, replacing it with a polite one. "Dancing?"

His gaze flickered down to mine, something unreadable within it. "Yes," he admitted, voice quieter now. "It's one of the few things I enjoy."

I arched a brow at him, skepticism bleeding into my tone. "Truly?"

"Truly." A small pause, then, "My mother taught me."

His hold on my waist remained steady, his movements effortless as he guided me through the waltz. "She used to say that knowing how to dance was just as important as knowing how to wield a blade. Both would assist me on a battle field."

I couldn't stop the flicker of surprise at his admission. Not because I doubted his mother's wisdom—if anything, I had always pitied the Lady of Autumn, the horrors she must have endured under Beron's rule—but because I had not expected Eris to share something so personal.

And yet, before I could decide how to respond, he added, "It was the one thing Beron couldn't take from me."

I swallowed, focusing on my movements, on the way his body angled just to keep me steady, to keep the dance seamless.

He was watching me closely, I could feel it. I hated that I could feel it.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice quieter than before, as if the words might shatter between us.

His lips twitched, though there was something different in his expression now. A quiet sort of challenge. "Because you're expecting me to be my father."

I stiffened.

"I'm not," he continued, tone smooth, unwavering. "And I think you already know that."

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing down the retort that sat at the edge of my tongue. I wanted to deny it.

Wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I had no reason to believe him, that I had no reason to trust him. That, after what I had endured, I had no space left in me for blind hope. But I couldn't. Because, for the first time, I allowed myself to see him—not the heir of Beron Vanserra, not the male who had stood by and done nothing while his father ruled with malice, but the High Lord before me now.

Eris Vanserra was dangerous, cunning, and far too quick-witted for his own good. But he was not his father. And as much as I hated it, as much as it made something twist deep in my chest—

He was also undeniably beautiful.

His russet hair gleamed beneath the chandelier light, his sharp, angular features like something carved from fine marble. And those eyes—deep amber, filled with fire and calculation, but not cruelty. Never cruelty. It unnerved me.

I averted my gaze, the pressure in my throat tightening. "I don't know anything."

His fingers flexed slightly against my waist, the only indication that he had caught the tremor in my voice.

"You will," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. A promise.

I did not know whether it was a comfort or a threat. But I did know one thing—

The game, whatever it was, had only just begun.

As the waltz came to an end, Eris's grip on me loosened, but he did not immediately step away. His amber eyes remained locked onto mine, searching, calculating—always calculating.

I did not look away. I refused to.

Even as my heart pounded against my ribs, even as my throat tightened with the weight of memories that clawed at the back of my mind, I held his gaze.

He exhaled softly, something almost amused flickering in his expression before he lifted my hand, his touch lingering just enough to send a sharp jolt of awareness through me.

Then, with a deliberate slowness that sent heat curling in my gut, Eris pressed a kiss to the back of my hand.

A calculated move. A display of power.

And yet—his lips were warm. Gentle.

He let my hand slip from his grasp, stepping back with an air of ease, as though he had not just sent my already-frazzled mind into chaos.

"Thank you for the dance," he murmured, voice like silk and embers.

I said nothing. Because I couldn't. I simply bowed my head and turned away, ignoring the stares, the whispers that followed me as I slipped back into the shadows of the ballroom.

Eris Vanserra was dangerous. And not for the reasons I had always believed.

I had not been able to get him out of my head.

I hated it.

No matter how much I tried to shove the thoughts away—to remind myself of the horrors I had endured under Beron, of the way his sons had stood idly by for years, of the haunting whispers that surrounded Eris himself—I couldn't stop replaying that moment in my mind.

The warmth of his touch. The softness of his voice. The way he had looked at me, not with hatred, not with indifference, but with something else entirely.

It was a trick. Had to be. And yet, I found myself watching him more than I should have.

Every time he called for something, every time I had to be in his presence, I bowed low, just as I had always done for Beron. I kept my voice neutral, my head down, my routine unchanged.

As if nothing had changed at all. As if I had not danced with him. As if his hands had not burned against my skin. As if I had not spent the past few days wondering, against all reason, if perhaps he was not as evil as I had once believed.

I would not let myself believe it. Not when I had learned, time and time again, that kindness was a dangerous illusion.

So when one of the guards found me in the halls, stopping me with a clipped, "The High Lord is requesting you," a cold dread curled in my stomach.

Requesting me. Not a general summons for any courtiers. Not a task that could have been handled by anyone else. Me.

For a moment, I couldn't move. Memories crashed through me—memories of Beron's summons, of being called for with no warning, no explanation. Of standing before him, knowing what was coming but never being able to predict just how bad it would be.

My hands clenched at my sides. I swallowed hard, pushing down the panic, shoving it deep beneath layers of practiced control.

This was not Beron. I knew that. And yet, my body did not.

With carefully measured steps, I made my way to Eris's study, every inch of me wound tight.

My mind whispered warnings, my heart pounded against my ribs. I forced my hands to remain steady as I knocked once, then pushed the heavy wooden door open.

And there he was—seated behind a grand desk, amber eyes lifting to meet mine the second I entered.

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of Autumn.

And the male who, for reasons I could not begin to understand, had called for me.

I braced myself, preparing for whatever awaited me next. And prayed that I was not about to be proven a fool.

The door shut behind me with a soft thud, the sound too final, too reminiscent of a past I wanted to claw away from.

I stayed near the entrance, hands clasped in front of me, chin dipped ever so slightly—not meek, but neutral. Just as I had been trained to be.

Eris sat at his desk, one elbow braced on the armrest of his chair, fingers resting against his temple as he watched me. Not impatient. Not cruel. Just watching. Then, with that signature tilt of his head, he asked, "What's your name?"

I blinked. "My name?"

He arched a golden brow, the flickering candlelight making the sharp angles of his face seem all the more severe.

"I'd like to know who to call for to keep my company, so yes, your name."

Company. Was this a game? A test?

I studied him, searching for the trap, but found nothing except expectation.

I told him my name carefully, waiting for the moment his expression would shift, for him to sneer or mock or twist the knowledge into something mean.

But he only smiled slightly, a soft curve of his lips that felt almost out of place on a face like his.

Before I could think better of it, before I could convince myself to stay silent, I blurted, "Have you been lonely, my lord?"

Eris's head tilted further, amusement flashing in his amber eyes.

I stiffened immediately. "Forgive me for asking. That was incredibly impolite. I'm so—"

"I have." He cut me off smoothly, his voice quieter now, but no less firm.

I swallowed.

"I imagined being High Lord would be quite different," he mused, gaze flickering to the stacks of papers on his desk, the glowing hearth, the empty room around us. "Nevertheless, here we are." He nodded as if conceding something to himself.

My lips parted slightly, but I had nothing to say to that. Nothing that wouldn't cross a line I was still hesitant to even approach.

Instead, I dropped into another practiced bow. "Will that be all, my lord?"

His eyes snapped back to me, something unreadable stirring behind them.

"Eris," he corrected.

I hesitated.

"I am not my father," he said, voice quiet but edged with finality, as if he were daring me to argue. "Nor do I wish to become him. So please, call me Eris."

I nodded slowly. "...Well then, Lord Eris."

"Just Eris, my dear," he corrected again, leaning back slightly. "Like friends."

I didn't know what startled me more—that he wanted me to call him by his name, or that he had referred to me as a friend.

Still, I tried to ignore the warmth curling in my stomach as I forced myself to say, "Eris."

His lips twitched, something satisfied gleaming in his gaze. "Good girl."

The praise sent something unfamiliar down my spine, not in the way it had whenever Beron complimented me... this was different.

"Now come, get comfortable." He gestured toward the plush green chairs adjacent to his desk.

I stared at him. "You want me to sit?"

"Stand, lean, lay, I don't care." He waved a lazy hand. "Just relax."

"My lord—Eris," I corrected, still trying to wrap my mind around the strangeness of this entire interaction. "I don't get paid to... relax."

He smirked. "No, you get paid to follow my orders. And I am ordering you to get comfortable."

I stared at him for a long moment, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to decipher the true meaning behind all of this.

But I saw no malice in his expression. No cruel intent. Just anticipation.

I swallowed and, slowly, I did as he said. I sat stiffly, hands clasped in my lap, my back straight as if Beron himself was still lurking behind me, waiting to scold me for stepping out of line.

Eris, however, did not acknowledge my rigid posture. He only let out a pleased hum, as if my mere presence was enough to meet whatever unspoken standard he had set for this moment. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he returned his focus to the parchment before him.

The only sounds in the room were the quiet scratching of his quill and the faint crackling of the candlelight.

I should have been grateful for the silence. It was better than savage words, better than commands meant to humiliate me. But instead, an odd tension settled in my chest, as if I were waiting for the real reason he'd called me here to be revealed.

Minutes passed. Then—

"You're staring," Eris murmured without looking up.

I blinked, feeling heat creep up my neck. "I am not."

His lips curved slightly, and he flipped to another parchment. "You are."

"I was merely looking in your direction." It was wrong of me to talk back, but something about him let my tongue a little looser, he didn't seem displeased by it in the slightest.

He hummed, unconvinced, dipping his quill back into ink. "And why, pray tell, were you looking in my direction?"

I hesitated. "...I was thinking."

Amber eyes flicked up from the page. "Dangerous habit."

That small smirk still played on his lips, but something about it was softer than usual, teasing rather than taunting.

I frowned, not ready for this interaction to feel comfortable, for me to feel comfortable. "I don't find it particularly dangerous."

"That's because you've never played with fire." He twirled the quill between his fingers before dragging the tip across the parchment again. "Not the kind that burns."

I scoffed. "You forget who I served before you."

He paused at that, glancing at me fully and my heart rate spiked. Too far, I'd gone too far, just a few words and the walls I built were crumbling before my very eyes.

Something unreadable flickered in his expression, but it was gone before I could place it. Instead, he dipped his head slightly, understanding the point. "Then I imagine you know better than most that fire, when wielded incorrectly, only ever destroys."

I stiffened, his words striking something deep within me.

Is that what I was? A thing destroyed? Is that what he saw when looking at me, or himself?

Eris exhaled, shifting his focus back to his work. "For what it's worth," he murmured, quieter now, "I don't intend to wield it incorrectly."

I studied him carefully, as I had done many times before, searching for the game, for the cruel edge I knew so well from his father.

But there was no trick. Only a High Lord—no, a male—focused on his work, offering me something I had never once been granted in Beron's court.

Peace.

I swallowed, forcing myself to look away, to ignore the unfamiliar warmth creeping into my bones.

Minutes passed again in silence, but this time, it didn't feel quite so heavy.

"I was serious, you know," Eris mused, not bothering to look up as he broke the quiet.

I frowned. "About what?"

"Keeping my company." He flipped to another document, signing something at the bottom. "I'd prefer your presence over my advisors any day. They're old and dull. You, at least, have some spirit."

I scoffed. "I think you are confusing obedience for spirit."

"Oh no, my dear." His lips curved in a knowing smirk. "You and I both know you're anything but obedient."

I bristled, opening my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand. "It's alright. I find it... refreshing."

I wasn't sure what unsettled me more—the implication, or the way my stomach twisted at his words. Beron preferred all the servantry to have a fiery spirit, which makes it more fun to break, but he never really could stomp my flames out, and now Eris was sparking the embers. It was dangerous, so dangerous.

Silence fell between us once more.

For a moment, I thought that would be the end of it. That I would sit there, a piece of furniture in this room while he worked, just as I had been in Beron's court.

But then, without looking away from his parchment, Eris murmured, "Tell me something, Fawn."

The way he said that nickname—so deliberate, like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue—sent something sharp down my spine.

"Tell you what?" I asked carefully.

He leaned back slightly, fingers steepled in thought. "Something real."

I hesitated. "That's vague."

"Intentionally so." He arched a brow. "Consider it a challenge."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but he only waited, watching me with that same expectant look, as if he truly wanted to hear something about me.

I exhaled. "I don't like the cold."

His lips twitched. "A courtier of Autumn who doesn't like the cold? Shocking, really." His voice was sarcastic, but something in his eyes told me he knew what I meant.

I shrugged, explaining anyway. "It reminds me of your father." The words left me before I could stop them, before I could think better of them.

Eris didn't flinch, but something in his expression shifted. "I hate the cold, too," he admitted after a beat.

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty.

He returned his attention to the paper in front of him, but his next words were soft, almost contemplative.

"It's why I keep the fire going."

And despite everything I had come to know about Eris Vanserra—despite everything I feared—those words stayed with me long after I left his study that night.

It became routine.

Every evening, after the day's duties were done, I was summoned to Eris's study. At first, I had thought it was some kind of test, some trick to lull me into a false sense of security before he reminded me of my place. But the days passed, and the cruel words never came. The taunts never sharpened into something harsher.

Instead, I found myself sitting across from him as he worked, the fire crackling between us, filling the silence in ways neither of us felt the need to.

And I was learning things.

Not just about him—but about myself.

I learned that despite being raised under Beron's thumb, Eris did not rule with a hand of iron. He listened—to his advisors, to the reports of the court, to me, even. And when I spoke, he truly listened, as if my words meant something.

More recently I learned that he was—Gods help me—attractive.

That fact had been easy enough to ignore when I hated him, when I thought he was just another Beron in the making. But the more time I spent with him, the more I noticed things I shouldn't—like the sharp angles of his face, the golden hue of his eyes, the way his hands moved across parchment with effortless precision.

It was incredibly inappropriate.

He was a High Lord, for the Gods' sake. I was a mere servant. A courtier, yes, but still beneath him in every sense of the word.

But there were moments—subtle, fleeting—where I felt that he didn't see it that way.

Like when he'd catch me staring and smirk, as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone. Like when his fingers would brush against mine as he handed me a book, a touch so brief it might have been an accident, but my traitorous body knew better. Like when he said my name—not the way Beron used to, as if I were an object, a thing that existed for his whims, but as if I were someone worth hearing.

It was dangerous. He was dangerous. And yet, I kept returning to his study, night after night, drawn to him in ways I did not understand.

I was comfortable around him now. Too comfortable. And I wasn't sure if that terrified me or eased me more.

The fire crackled behind him, casting golden light over the room as I sat at his desk, scanning over the trade agreements he had asked me to review. Eris stood in front of the hearth, a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching the flames with a contemplative expression.

"They're bleeding the smaller villages dry," I murmured, flipping to the next page. "The tariffs are nearly double what they should be."

Eris hummed in response, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "And what do you suggest, fawn?" His voice was rich, edged with amusement.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, biting back a smile at the teasing lilt in his tone. "Lowering them would be a start."

He took a slow sip of whiskey, then turned, his gaze burning even hotter than the fire behind him. "Very well. Lower them."

I blinked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." He smirked, as if amused by my surprise. "You have a sharp mind. It would be a waste not to use it."

A compliment. A genuine one.

I busied myself with the documents, ignoring the warmth that curled in my stomach. But before I could shift to the next matter, I felt it—him.

The space between us disappeared in a breath. Eris leaned over my shoulder, one hand bracing against the desk as he peered down at the papers with me.

His warmth seeped through the thin fabric of my dress, his scent—smoke, cedar, spice—curling around me, intoxicating. I stiffened, my fingers tightening around the quill.

"See?" His voice was softer now, smooth like velvet. "That wasn't so hard."

I swallowed, forcing my focus back to the parchment. "I assume the next set of reports won't be as easy."

His chuckle was low, deep. "Unfortunately, no."

We worked through the rest of it together, his proximity never wavering, his breath occasionally ghosting against my cheek as he murmured his thoughts. It should have been unbearable. It was unbearable. And yet, I didn't pull away.

Not even when he poured me a glass of whiskey.

I had refused at first, telling him I was technically working but he had simply raised an eyebrow and said, "I won't tell the high lord if you don't."

It burned going down, leaving warmth in its wake, emboldening me just enough to loosen the tight grip I always held on myself.

Perhaps that was why, when we finally leaned back in our chairs, the tension of duty momentarily relieved, I dared to meet his gaze with something close to ease.

"You're a better High Lord than I expected," I admitted, surprising myself with the honesty.

He turned his glass between his fingers, watching me over the rim. "High praise, coming from you."

I rolled my eyes, but the smallest of smiles played at my lips. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he quipped, grinning.

I shook my head, but I wasn't fast enough to hide the way my lips twitched in amusement.

Eris noticed. Of course, he did. And he leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. "Careful, fawn. Keep looking at me like that, and I'll think you actually enjoy my company."

I should have ignored the remark. Should have cut the moment short, should have reminded myself that this was Eris, that I was his courtier and nothing more.

But the whiskey hummed in my blood, and I found myself tilting my chin up slightly, arching a brow.

"Who said I don't?"

His gaze darkened, a flicker of something wicked dancing in those golden eyes.

The air between us tightened, the tension shifting into something heavier, something dangerous.

And for the first time, I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to run from it.

The room was suffocating with heat—not just from the fire, but from him. From the way he looked at me, like he could see through every carefully placed wall I had built around myself.

I should have left. Should have bowed my head, murmured a polite good night, and returned to the servantry quarters where I belonged.

But I didn't.

Instead, I stayed, rooted in place, watching the way Eris's eyes flickered between my lips and my eyes. The tension stretched unbearably tight, wound so thin that one more word, one more breath, would surely snap it.

And then it did.

One moment, we were speaking, our words slow and softened by whiskey. The next—I was in his arms, and his mouth was on mine.

It was a collision, a wildfire consuming everything in its path.

His lips were searing, his hands gripping my waist as if he couldn't bear to let go, pulling me flush against him. I gasped into the kiss, and he took full advantage, deepening it, his tongue sweeping over mine in a way that made my knees threaten to buckle.

He groaned, low and guttural, and something inside me snapped.

I met his fervor with my own, fingers tangling in his hair, feeling the silk of it between my fingertips as he backed me into the desk. The papers we had worked so hard on crumpled beneath us, utterly forgotten.

He exhaled a quiet curse against my lips as his hands gripped my hips tighter, and I—I didn't stop him. I arched into him, into the warmth, the danger of it.

And then—it happened.

A tether snapped into place.

Invisible, undeniable, unyielding.

My entire body locked up as a force stronger than anything I had ever known latched onto my very soul. The bond—a mating bond—solidified between us like molten steel cooling into iron, a force so absolute it stole the air from my lungs.

No, no, no.

I stumbled back so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet, my hand flying to my lips as if I could erase what had just happened.

Eris reached for me, eyes wide, something dangerously close to awe written across his sharp features. "Wait—"

But I didn't.

I turned and ran.

I ignored the way his voice followed me, calling my name, ignored the way my heart thundered in my chest, the way my mind screamed at me that this was impossible, that it couldn't be real, that it shouldn't be real.

Because if it was—if it was real—then it meant I was bound to him. To him.

Not just the male who had been slipping under my skin, infiltrating the cold emptiness I had built to protect myself. But Beron's son. Beron's heir. A Vanserra. A High Lord.

By the time I reached the servantry quarters, my breaths were ragged, my hands shaking as I shoved my door closed behind me, locking it with trembling fingers.

I pressed my back against the wood, squeezing my eyes shut.

This couldn't be happening. It was a mistake. A trick. A cruel, cruel joke.

I was nothing.

A courtier, a servant.

I did not get to have mates.

And certainly not him.

I curled onto my cot, my hands gripping the fabric of my dress as if I could anchor myself back to reality. I forced my breathing to slow, willed myself to forget the feeling of his lips, the taste of whiskey on his tongue, the way his hands had fit so perfectly against my waist.

I did not sleep that night.

I had been avoiding him.

Days had passed, and I hadn't stepped foot in his study again. I hadn't so much as looked in his direction, even as the court whispered about me, about us, about the undeniable scent of a bond snapping into place.

They all knew.

I could feel their stares, the pity in some, the amusement in others. I knew what they thought—that it was only a matter of time before I bent, before I folded myself into the neat little role fate had carved out for me at Eris's side.

I refused.

I stayed tucked away, keeping to my duties, bowing as I always had when in his presence, keeping my head low, silent. I had done it for years under Beron. I could do it again.

Or at least, I thought I could.

The bond had other plans.

It had been clawing at me, a sick, twisting thing in my chest, gnawing at my ribs every time I kept my distance. The more I ignored it, the worse it became, a restless, aching pressure that built until my hands trembled with the need to do something—run to him, scream, sob. I didn't know which.

I was too caught up in my own mind, too focused on fighting the invisible thread tethering me to him, that I didn't notice the male approaching me until it was too late.

"You've been rather elusive, haven't you?"

I turned sharply, expecting him, expecting Eris—

But it wasn't him.

It was Kyden.

My stomach twisted.

Kyden Vanserra had always taken the most after Beron compared to the rest of his brothers, cruel for the sake of cruelty, sneering down at those he deemed beneath him. Which unfortunately included me.

His smirk was slow, predatory. "I almost mistook you for one of the nobility, standing there all stiff and proper. But then I remembered—you're just a servant, aren't you?"

I forced my body not to react, not to let the memories claw their way up my throat. He had that same look in his tawny eyes that Beron always had on one of the particularly hard days.

Kyden stepped closer, voice a lazy drawl. "And yet, despite your lowly position, you managed to ensnare a High Lord." His lips curled, eyes gleaming with something dark. "Or rather, the bond did. Funny, isn't it? How fate makes fools of us all."

I kept my chin high, my hands at my sides. I would not cower.

He leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear. "You reek of him."

I flinched. Kyden chuckled. "It's amusing, really. Eris, of all people, shackled to someone like you." His gaze flickered over me, assessing, and I knew that look—I had seen it before, a lifetime ago, picking apart my worth, deciding how best to use me.

"What do you think he'll do?" Kyden mused. "Surely, you don't believe he'll actually keep you. A High Lord's mate should be powerful, worthy." He tutted. "You are neither."

The words hit their mark, sinking into my skin like tiny blades, because deep down I knew he was right. This is why I've been avoiding Eris, avoiding having that confrontation that will only result in rejection and sorrow.

"I wonder," he continued, tilting his head, "how long it will take before he grows bored of you. Before he realizes you're nothing more than the same little courtier Beron used to—"

A deep, guttural snarl split the air.

And then Kyden was no longer in my space, no longer crowding me like a looming shadow.

Eris had him by the collar, dragging him back, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl beside his brother's throat.

"Say another word," Eris hissed, voice like fire crackling over dry wood, "and I will tear out your fucking tongue."

Kyden, to his credit, did not flinch. He only grinned. "Touched a nerve, did I?"

Eris's fingers tightened, the flames in the nearby sconces flaring wildly.

"Walk away, Kyden," Eris said, voice quieter now, deadlier. "I raised you better than this."

A beat of silence. Then Kyden huffed a laugh, shoving Eris off him with a roll of his shoulders.

"As you wish, brother." He turned to me, and there was something smug in his eyes, something knowing. "See you around, little courtier."

And then he was gone.

Eris exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair before turning to me.

"Are you—"

I shook my head, stepping back. "Don't."

His jaw tensed.

I couldn't do this. Not here. Not now.

The hallway was silent except for the distant clatter of pots and the hushed murmurs of servants slipping past us, their eyes darting away the moment they caught sight of Eris. I could still feel the ghost of Kyden's words slithering over my skin, the way he had looked at me, spoken to me. But more than that—I could feel the weight of Eris's gaze, burning into me as if he were unraveling every thought in my head.

I didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to feel the way I did when he looked at me.

His amber eyes flickered with something unreadable, something heavy and tense. He hadn't moved since Kyden left, his hands clenched at his sides, as if he was still fighting the urge to chase his brother down and finish what he started.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. We stood nearly a yard away from each other in the servants' passages, the house was so vast that to get from place to place quicker in the manor there were secret paths to take. It was odd for the High Lord to even know about them.

I swallowed hard, then whispered, "Why are you here?"

Eris blinked, as if startled by the question. And then, with the ghost of a smirk, he drawled, "It's my house, isn't it?"

I narrowed my eyes. "You know what I mean."

More silence.

His smirk faded.

"I was looking for you," he admitted finally.

I stared at him, heart hammering against my ribs. "You could've called for me."

His expression darkened, and he took a step closer. "Would you have come?"

I said nothing.

He huffed a bitter laugh. "That's what I thought."

I clenched my hands into fists, nails biting into my palms. "It's my job, Eris," I whispered.

His jaw flexed. His fingers twitched—like he wanted to reach for me, wanted to touch me—but he didn't. Instead, he just stood there, looking more defeated than I'd ever imagined a Vanserra could.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" I asked, my voice quieter now, because we were standing a distance apart with maids and cooks scuttling silently past us, pretending they weren't listening, pretending they couldn't see the invisible string between us.

Eris studied me for a long moment, then nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel, leading the way.

I followed.

The room he brought me to was small, tucked away in one of the unused wings of the estate. A study, maybe, or a reading room—the kind of place someone could go to disappear.

He shut the door behind me, and then we were alone.

Eris exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Are you alright?"

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "I don't know."

His jaw tightened. "Kyden—"

"I don't want to talk about Kyden."

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Then talk to me about something else."

I let out a breath. "About what, Eris?"

He stepped closer, slow and careful, as if I were something fragile. "About why you've been avoiding me."

I scoffed. "You know why."

"I want to hear you say it."

I met his gaze, and the heat in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine. "Because this—" I gestured between us. "—isn't supposed to happen. Because you're a High Lord, and I'm a servant, and this bond—" I swallowed hard. "It's cruel."

Eris's expression was unreadable, but his fingers twitched again, and I wondered if he even realized he kept doing that—kept stopping himself from touching me. "You think the Mother is cruel?"

I hesitated. "I think fate is."

Eris exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Do you hate it that much?"

I didn't answer.

Did I?

Hate was easy. Hate was something I understood, something I could hold onto. Hate had kept me alive under Beron's rule, had hardened me, protected me.

But this? This tether between us, this thing that hummed in my chest, that made my body ache to close the distance between us—

I didn't have a name for it. And that scared me more than anything.

Eris watched me carefully, as if searching for something in my expression. He let out another sigh and retreated, taking a seat on the small leather couch adjacent to the popping fireplace. I watched him silently, still standing by the door.

"I never wanted this either," he admitted, voice softer now. "I spent years ensuring I would never be bound to someone who could be used against me. And yet..." His lips quirked into something bitter. "Yet here we are."

My throat felt tight. "Do you hate it?"

His amber eyes burned. "No."

The breath I took was unsteady.

"You never answered?" he looked up at me.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Shook my head. "I don't know."

Eris nodded once, as if that answer was enough.

Silence stretched between us again.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "You don't have to accept it," he said. "Not now. Not ever, if that's what you choose." He met my gaze, something like resignation flickering in his eyes. "But I won't apologize for it."

He wanted to keep it? Wanted me to accept it?

I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

He tilted his head, considering me. "So what now?"

I shook my head. "I don't know."

A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. "That's twice now."

I scowled. "Shut up."

He chuckled. "I suppose I should be grateful I got anything out of you at all."

I rolled my eyes, but there was no bite to it.

Eris studied me again, quieter this time. "I meant what I said," he murmured. "I was looking for you."

I looked away. "I know."

Silence settled between us again, but it was different now. Less suffocating.

More dangerous.

Because I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep pretending I didn't want him to find me. I approached his side quietly and sat.

The leather couch was cool against my skin as I sank into it beside him, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. The bond thrummed like a second heartbeat, relentless and inescapable.

The son of the man I loathed most in this world was the one I was expected to love beyond reason.

Fate was a sick, twisted thing.

I sighed, tired of thinking, tired of fighting, tired of everything. Slowly, hesitantly, I tilted my head, letting it rest against his shoulder. His body stiffened for a fraction of a second before he relaxed, exhaling a breath I might've imagined.

It was enough for now.

"I'm High Lord," he said after a beat.

"Painfully aware," I murmured.

"Meaning—there are rules of the Autumn Court that I can... simply get rid of."

I huffed a soft, tired laugh. "You're a lord, not a king."

"Mm, true," he mused, tilting his head back against the couch, "but if Rhysand can bend the rules to marry his mate, so can I."

I hesitated. "His court is much more pliable. Autumn is notorious for its... old-fashioned ways."

"Well, the Autumn Court has a new High Lord." His voice was steady, sure. "Let's just hope I'm changing it for the better."

I smiled faintly, my eyes fluttering shut. "You are, 'Ris."

The name slipped out before I could think better of it, before I could remind myself that familiarity with him was dangerous.

His body went still beneath me.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he looked down at me, amber eyes burning with something I couldn't name.

We stared at each other for a long moment, really seeing each other.

And then, quietly, almost reverently, he murmured, "I'm going to kiss you now."

I nodded.

And then he did.

His lips pressed against mine, slow and deep, as if we had all the time in the world. As if the bond wasn't something to be feared but something to be savored. His hand lifted to my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone before sliding into my hair, tilting my face up, pressing deeper.

I sighed into him, gripping the front of his tunic as the bond pulsed between us, as the warmth of his body and the scent of campfire and rainy mornings wrapped around me like something familiar, something I could fall into.

It should have scared me.

But all I could do was kiss him back.

Eris pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. My heart pounded, my thoughts a chaotic mess, but the bond hummed in quiet contentment—as if it had known all along that this was inevitable.

His fingers stayed tangled in my hair, his other hand still cupping my jaw, holding me there, keeping me grounded. "We'll figure this out," he murmured, voice low, steady. Sure.

I let out a slow breath, my hands still fisted in his tunic. "You make it sound so simple."

"It doesn't have to be complicated."

I swallowed hard, my mind already spinning with the realities of what this meant, what it could mean. But as I looked at him, at the quiet determination in his gaze, at the warmth that had nothing to do with the firelight flickering around us, I found myself wanting—just for a moment—to believe him.

So I nodded, just barely.

His lips brushed my temple, lingering there for a heartbeat before he leaned back, his hand finally slipping from my hair. "One step at a time, my dear."

I exhaled, my pulse still thrumming in my throat, and echoed, "One step at a time."

And maybe, just maybe, we'd find our way through this. Together.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-angst @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @aurorab99 @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mmg777 @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna @imyherondale @salvawhxres @bookishbabyyyy @anuttellaa @breadsticks2004 @azriels-human @mamita-vera @ @lorosette @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tothestarsandwhateverend @ahaha0246 @mellowmusings @mythicalcookie

229 notes · View notes

ldydeath · 8 hours ago

Text

I’m Waiting Only for You | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: You and Jiyong have been friends for years, but there’s been a bit of an untalked about shift between you. When you get asked on a date by another guy will you and Jiyong finally admit your feelings for each other, or just stay friends?

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day my friends, I hope you enjoy this one. ♥

“I don’t even know how he feels!” You whined as you followed Youngbae into the green room. As per usual, he was giving you shit about your feelings for your mutual friend, Jiyong. You had been friends with the both of them for as long as you could remember, but over the last couple of years you’d started to develop feelings for your best friend. Something Youngbae had heard in great detail. Which is why he was trying to get you to tell Jiyong before everyone went insane.

“Right, so you’re just friends with benefits, and that’s why you’re going on some date tonight?” Youngbae raised a brow, moving to look at all the snacks that had been left out for the guys.

You hate this, not knowing what exactly you and Jiyong were anymore. One day after a long day of prepping for his comeback, you’d swung by to check on Jiyong and he’d kissed you. There had been no conversation about the kiss, other than the fact that it had happened on several occasions at this point. You didn’t know how much more of this you could take, you couldn’t just be casual with your best friend. It wasn’t fair to either of you, especially now that you've caught feelings. So tonight, you were going on a date hoping to get over your best friend, knowing that you wouldn’t.

“We’re not friends with benefits.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing a snack off the table and taking a seat on the floor, your back against the wall. “And yes, I’m going on a date, we’ve been talking for a while and I think now’s the perfect time.”

“You’re what?” You hadn’t even realized Jiyong had entered the room and your eyes snapped up the second you heard his voice.

You weren’t sure if you were imagining it or not but you could’ve sworn you saw a flash of hurt in his eyes before he composed himself, strolling across the room, hands in his pockets. You hated how effortlessly he did everything. How he could look so hot just by simply existing. How were you not supposed to catch feelings when he was walking around looking like that? His green hair falling into his eyes as he walked passed you, taking a seat.

“I have a date tonight.” You raised your chin, daring him to say something. Anything. He shrugged at your response and you couldn’t help the eye roll that followed as you turned away from him.

“Well, this has been fun.” Youngbae waved, grabbed a bag of candy, and headed out of the room. Damn him.

Your eyes shot back over to Jiyong but he was too busy scrolling through his phone to notice your stare. He really was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. That wasn’t why you’d fallen for him, though. He’d always been the sweetest man on the planet, something your heart ached for. Over the years, it was the way he’d cared about you and everyone else that had made you fall for him. “What?” Your eyes shot up to his and you shook your head. You’d been so busy staring you hadn’t realized he’d been looking back at you.

“Nothing.” You mumbled, moving your gaze from him to a spot on the floor. You could feel his stare on you but you refused to look back at him. After a few minutes he sighed, “Get off the floor and come talk to me.” His voice was soft, almost pleading.

You huffed, moving off the floor and took a seat next to him. You didn’t understand why he cared that you were going on a date. It’s not like you were his or he was yours. “What?” you repeated as you took your seat, noting his intense stare.

Jiyong didn’t even know where to start. He thought he’d made it pretty evident that he had feelings for you, considering you were the only person he ever wanted to be around. He also wasn’t going around kissing anybody else. In fact, he’d spent just about every ounce of free time he had either with you or thinking about you. He’d had feelings for you for quite some time now, which is why he’d kissed you that night. But apparently he hadn’t been obvious enough about it.

He folded his arms, leaning back in his seat and looked at you with such intensity you wanted to sink into your seat. Or run. Either would work. Jiyong blinked, trying to find the words to tell you how he felt but nothing seemed to come out. This wasn’t the place, but in a way, wasn’t it? You two had so many years of memories hanging out backstage at events and shows, it was almost the perfect place. At least if you didn’t feel the same way about him he could yeet himself off the stage.

“Why are you going on a date?” He nearly whispered the question and you let out a sigh. Why was he so upset about this? He didn’t care, did he? “Because he asked me and I thought it would be fun.” You shrugged, not daring to look at him.

All the confidence you’d felt before he walked into the room was gone. You didn’t want to go on some date with some other guy, you wanted to go on a date with him. How were you supposed to sit here and explain yourself to him? He let out a snort at your answer and you rolled your eyes. “Why do you care, anyway?” That shut him up pretty quickly.

He was standing in front of you before you’d even realized he’d moved and that intense stare was almost too much for you. You shot your eyes down and his hand reached out, fingers touching your chin so gently you barely felt it as he tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes scanned his for answers, your heart beating so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You hated how such a small touch could affect you this way.

“I care because I thought I’d made it pretty obvious that I have feelings for you. I don’t just go around kissing people for the hell of it. I thought we had something and sure, we hadn’t exactly talked about it, but I thought that was our thing. We’d just figure it out as we went along but apparently I was wrong.” He paused, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Don’t go on that tonight. Unless you don’t feel the same about me. Which is cool, if you don’t, there’s a stage that I can jump off of, it’s totally cool.”

“Jiyong.” Your hand covering his. “I do have feelings for you, I just thought you didn’t feel the same way. I thought maybe you just wanted to stay friends and move past the couple of kisses we shared and I needed to get over you.”

His lips were on yours before you even had a chance to process the fact that your best friend had just told you he had feelings for you, and you pulled him in closer, trying to convey just how much you loved him in the kiss.

“Guess you guys figured it out then.” Youngbae’s voice broke your kiss and you looked past Jiyong to glare at your other friend. He smirked, tossing an apple in the air and Jiyong raised his middle finger at him. “Way to ruin the moment, YB.” Youngbae shrugged and walked out of the room.

Jiyong’s attention turned back to you and a soft smile spread across his face, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t go tonight.” You nodded your head, pulling him back in for another kiss. “There’s nowhere else I want to be.” You promised. Jiyong let out a sigh, peppering your face in soft kisses before standing up fully, bringing you up with him.

“I’ll take you on a proper date after the show tonight, ok?” He leaned in, kissing your one last time before turning to head out to do what he did best. You followed him out, eager to start the next chapter of your relationship together.

tag list: @wcnderlnds, @alosss-blog@sooyasya@dprvivi@infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

#kwon jiyong x reader #g dragon x reader #kwon ji yong x reader #gdragon x reader #bigbang x reader #kwon jiyong #g dragon #my fics #iwofy

63 notes · View notes

skzxlevanter · 24 hours ago

Text

wanna be yours

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Where Chan shows you his favorite spot at the beach while realizing how much he loves you

neutal!reader x chan

Warnings: kissing, other than that very cutesy, very demure

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The heat from the day is slowly setting down as you follow Chan on a small path, wind blowing through the bushes as the loud city slowly fades away. “I’m slowly starting to think that you’re going to kidnap me, mr. Bang, I haven’t seen a single person in the last thirty minutes” you exclaim jokingly as Chan pushes a branch out of your way. “Maybe I should do that, then I have you all to myself” he chuckles “but we’re almost there, so if you want to run you should do it now”

You laugh back at him, your eyes wandering over his dimples and the way his adams apple bops as he laughs. This is the first time you’re on vacation together, back in Chans childhood-town in Australia and tonight, he insisted on showing you a secret spot.

"Here we are" Chan exclaimed after a few more minutes of walking, letting you pass him to see the view. And as your eyes were wandering over the landscape, you realized that the long way was definetly worth it. You felt the warm, fresh breeze of the ocean as your eyes took in the sight of a small, secluded beach with waves gently crashing up against the shore.

"It´s so beautiful" you finally said, voice barely over a whisper. Your eyes return to Chan, who lovingly smiles back at you before looking back at the beach himself. He takes in a big breath, his shoulders dropping in relaxation, enjoying the sound of the ocean, feeling far away from the stress of the real world. He let´s the feeling linger, enjoying the moment he has here with you, before a devilish grin appears on his face. "last one to be in the water looses" chan suddenly yelled back at you as he already started running towards the waves of the ocean.

"Christopher Bang, this is not fair!" you screeched as you started taking off too. You could hear his laughter, as you were running up to him, but due to his advantage he´s already knee deep in the water by the time you reach him. Just as opened your mouth to complain, he took you into his arms, pressing you up against him before carfully picking you up, spinnig the two of you around while breaking out in laughter.

"Oh my god I´m so dizzy" you laughed as he put you back down, his eyes finding yours immediately. "You´re so pretty" he whispered, as his gaze wandered over your face before settling at your lips. You could feel his breath, the warmth of his body, how his hands held you close. Then, he gently pressed his lip against yours, hand carefully gliding through your hair as he pulled you even closer. You couldn´t help but smile into the kiss, wrapping both of your arms around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as you felt his soft lips against yours.

"I love you" chan mumbled as he pulled back, taking your hand into his. The sun was setting and even though it was slowly getting colder, you´ve never felt as warm as right here, in Chans arms.

masterlist

I´m backkkkkk lol. Not really happy with this, but I feel like there´s a lack of fluff on here so I had to contribute. I know it´s been a while and I honestly don´t plan on posting regularly again, but I also don´t want to take the account down so that you guys can still enjoy all of this xoxo

#skz #skz fluff #kpop fanfic #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz bang chan

79 notes · View notes

jsmelodies · 2 days ago

Text

I fell in love with the fire long ago

I'm back for day 5 of @sjmromanceweek! This is another nessian princess x knight AU, and I'm also adding some forbidden love in there!

Summary: Cassian has loved the princess, Nesta Archeron, for as long as he can remember. So when he's tasked with delivering her to her wedding, he's prepared to suffer through it until Nesta is out of his reach once and for all.

All he knows is that it would only take one word from her to throw his loyalties into a raging fire.

Read on ao3

Chapter 1

Two Months Ago

“Will you dance with me?”

Nesta’s eyes flicked to his, intense silver fire focusing in on him like a predator lazily watching its prey.

“I didn’t think you knew how to do such a thing.”

“I’m not that much of an animal, princess.”

Her eyebrow lifted, an indication that he recognized as her being playful. “Really? It’s rumored that you sleep out with the dogs.”

Cassian couldn’t help his snort of laughter, and he extended his hand out to her, a silent question in his eyes.

And, to his surprise, Nesta took it. For perhaps a second longer than they should have, they stood there. Watching each other, like this moment was inevitable.

Their hands touching, at long last.

He closed his around hers, leading her to the dance floor right as the music started.

Never in a million years would he be able to keep up with her on the dance floor. He could only hold on, as Nesta became a spectacle that the crowd gathered to watch. He spun her around, and around, and around, until she almost laughed across from him. Her face had turned a pretty flushed pink, and not for the first time, Cassian found himself wondering if that pink extended down into her dress to the rest of her body.

Her purple dress floated as she turned, making her truly look like a goddess reborn. And here, for a single dance, she was all his.

It ended. All too soon, the dance was over, the final cadence concluding the song in a blissful harmony.

She was breathing hard, and smiling at him. He’d been the one to bring joy to her face, and his heart involuntarily clenched at it.

“It’s hot in here,” she said, and he knew that she couldn’t fan at herself with her hands at risk of looking improper.

He had to restrain himself from looking at her chest as she breathed heavily, her front surely pressing against her bodice with every inhale. Instead, he extended an arm to her, his elbow bent for her to rest her hand inside.

“Come with me. I know somewhere you can cool off.”

It was years of trust that had her hooking her hand into his elbow, following where he led. He pulled her through the party, releasing her when they reached their destination: a private balcony overlooking the city beyond, the cooling air providing a respite from the crowded ballroom.

Nesta placed her hands on the railing of the balcony, leaning against the stone as she fell into a concerning quiet, that happiness gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Her hands tightened around the railing. “It’s nothing important.”

Everything about her was important.

He nudged her body with his own. “Tell me.”

She took another breath, then a second. “It’s hard to watch sometimes. This,” she said, gesturing outwards. “Knowing I will never get to see any of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that my father is the king of an entire territory, and I have only ever seen a fraction of it. This place is just a drop in a bucket of the world, and even still, I haven’t seen it properly.”

The rules were different for her, he knew. While he could roam as he liked, going deep into the taverns and shops the city had to offer, it was a whole affair for Nesta just to walk down a single block.

“I’ve never even left the city gates,” she said, overlooking the sprawling streets below. Twinkling lights reflected back up at them, lamps and lanterns alike, all for the celebration happening inside. “My father promised me I could once, when I was younger. I think he figured I’d forget about it. But now, I doubt it will ever happen before I’m married. And after that…”

She didn’t need to say. Cassian was familiar. Maybe after she delivered a few heirs, whoever had been granted the luxury of calling her his wife would allow her the freedom to explore.

But it wasn’t guaranteed.

“I would take you,” he offered. In another world, in another life, he would take her anywhere she wished. He’d revel in her squeals as droplets of the ocean hit her face from the bow of a ship, ribbons fluttering behind her.

He looked over just in time to see the sad smile that spread across her lips. “I know you would.”

It happened again. Nesta touched him again, shifting her hand so it connected with his on the railing of the balcony. She didn’t stop him from interlacing their fingers, though her breath hitched from beside him as he did so.

He turned to her fully, and as if noticing his attention on her, Nesta did the same.

A stray hair had escaped from her pinned coronet, laying across her face. It had to give her a headache, he could only imagine, and he was tempted to just take those pins out one by one until she could sigh in relief.

She watched him, eyes wide as he brushed it off of her face and hooked it behind her ear.

“I would do anything you asked of me,” he said.

He should have pulled his hand back. But he didn’t, instead moving his thumb over her cheek in a slow motion.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and he stroked the underside of her jaw before lifting her chin up further.

She started shaking, trembling before he could lean in any closer. Then her hand was on his, and perhaps rather foolishly he assumed it was in an embrace.

“We can’t,” she gasped, ripping his hand away. “You can’t touch me like that.”

Then the air was cool against his palm, removed from the gentle heat of her face.

“I–” The look Nesta gave him fractured into his very being. “I’m sorry.”

She fled from his side, pulling her arm away when he tried to reach for it.

“Nes–”

“You can’t,” she said again, firmly, leaving him on that balcony with only the barest trace of her perfume lingering in the air.

Deep in his gut, Cassian knew. He’d always known.

***

Present Day

The news caused a week-long celebration in the streets. Barrels of wine flowed into goblets, and Cassian was no exception—drinking more than he had in years, though he did it in the privacy of his own quarters.

Because he wasn’t celebrating. He hoped that the red liquid would numb his mind, until he could forget the joyous cause for the festivities.

A peace treaty, between the Archeron monarchs and the Vanserras in the Autumn lands. One that resulted in a betrothal between their eldests.

Nesta and Eris.

Cassian told himself that he didn’t care, that he knew this day was coming eventually. That the golden hair that streamed down her back like a spraying waterfall would never be his to touch.

He knew. He’d known for years, if only in the back of his mind.

The summons came well past dawn, though Cassian’s headache was still splitting his head in two. Still, though, he dressed in his court finery and made himself look presentable, for he was to appear before the king himself.

He was likely being called to slay some monster terrorizing a border town, as he always was. He’d proven himself dependable, accepting mission after mission from the king until he’d earned the man’s undeniable trust.

Unbeknownst to him, however, the king had other plans. It was no beast that he was being summoned for.

When he entered the large throne room, meant for receiving guests, he kissed the ring on the king’s finger before falling to one knee on the marble floor.

“Your majesty,” he said, bowing his head in deference.

The man hummed, and Cassian could only assume he was appraising him from his throne. “Sir Cassian,” he said, shifting in his seat. “I’ve heard that you have not been seen for some time.”

Because he was getting wasted in his quarters. Because he wouldn’t let anyone see how much of a wreck he really was.

“My apologies. I am, of course, available for anything you require,” Cassian said, keeping his head lowered.

The king didn’t hesitate for a second. “My daughter is to be married. If I recall correctly, the two of you are acquainted.”

Every ounce of willpower went into preventing himself from breathing in sharply, or revealing any of his inner turmoil to the man who commanded him.

Acquainted. What a mockery.

Nesta Archeron was his princess. He’d sworn his fealty to her father, promising to protect the realm. Promising to serve him, and his family, until his dying breath.

And they were well more than fucking acquainted.

“I have heard,” Cassian forced himself to say. “My sincerest congratulations on the good news.”

“It is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?” the king chuckled, luckily not picking up on Cassian’s discomfort. “That’s why I called you here.”

Cassian shifted uncomfortably, unsure about where this conversation was going.

“I require my most loyal knight to lead the escort into Autumn territory.”

Dread filled his stomach, like a lead brick being dropped into the middle of the ocean. Escort Nesta. To her wedding.

Would he be forced to watch her walk down that aisle, too? Would he be forced to keep guard over her until she was tied to someone else?

He opened his mouth to refuse. But he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth; he couldn’t deny this even if it destroyed him not to.

There was only one singular truth in his mind. One singular truth that was clear above the rest of it. Even if every part of his soul despised this, there was no one else Cassian trusted to watch over her. Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t settle until he knew she was protected somewhere.

So he would do it, at the expense of anything and everything. There was no other feasible option.

He answered, trying his best not to sound resigned, “As you command.”

“I trust you will make my daughter’s safety your utmost priority,” the king said, not unkindly, but with a firm voice that left no room for negotiation.

As if he would allow for anything else. “Of course, your majesty,” Cassian said, nodding his head once. “It is an honor.”

Well. It was supposed to be.

Cassian could remember the days when he was just a kid pulling on Nesta’s braids as he chased her around the castle. Her mother didn’t care for the display, and thus didn’t care for him, but at that age he didn’t care. He would’ve done anything to see that scowl gracing her features, and still would, if he was being honest.

But they’d grown up. Now, Cassian would trade ten of her scowls for one of her smiles. At some point, his loyalty had transformed into something deeper, something more dangerous.

He couldn’t put a word to it, lest his heart might get torn out of his chest more than it already was.

Nesta was always destined for great things—more than he could have ever provided. She was a princess, and her future would alter the course of nations.

Two months ago, he thought that might not have mattered. It was before all of this, when a boyish part of him still thought he stood a chance—a common knight that was the lord of nowhere, only granted a relationship with her by pure luck.

Two months ago, he thought there was a chance she might have felt the same. But he’d been rendered a complete fool. Ever since that day, they’d been cordial, and nothing more. Brief looks across the passageways, and even shorter words of acknowledgement when they crossed paths. The princess seemed content to keep her distance from him, forcing him to watch from afar.

It was her choice. He had to respect it, even if every bone in his body demanded otherwise.

It was easier if he reminded himself that Nesta Archeron felt nothing for him; that she’d taken one actual look at him and deemed him unworthy of her.

The king indicated for him to rise, and it didn’t take long after that to go over the specifications of the party. It was barely half an hour before they were finished.

“If that is all,” Cassian said, “I will start putting together the preparations.”

He barely registered the king’s words of dismissal, striding to the large, double doors at the end of the room and pushing them open.

Cassian spent the rest of the morning meticulously selecting the party of men that would travel with them. He picked men that he trusted—knights that he knew were loyal and would follow his command. Azriel and Rhys were among them, even though he knew Rhys would be nothing less than pissed at having to leave his flirtation with the youngest princess behind for a few weeks.

He could deal with it. Some things were more important, something that Rhys was well aware of, even if he and Nesta were often at odds with each other.

Azriel and Rhys were part of the twenty armed guards he accounted for, which were enough to cover Nesta’s ladies and the servants that would attend to them. And with that, he took the plans he’d put together and made his way to the grand hallway, to speak with her at last.

***

Nesta always knew that she would be a bargaining chip in whatever grand plans her parents came up with. Growing up, she’d always assumed it would be her mother pulling the strings. That was until the bitter woman died in her sleep. Her father allowed her her freedom afterwards, for a time.

But Nesta knew it would not last.

Her betrothal to Prince Eris did not come as a surprise. If her mother was still alive, this might be the moment she finally took Nesta’s face in her hands to tell her she was proud of her. Alas, she was dead in her grave, the words never uttered from her lips.

In just three days, she would leave this place behind to spend the rest of her days in a foreign land that she had never even visited. In just a month, she would be a stranger’s wife. His future queen. The mother of his heirs.

For her kingdom, she would do it. For the promise of peace.

Gwyn and Emerie flanked her on either side, speaking quietly amongst themselves about court gossip that they’d picked up that morning. Nesta listened in occasionally, but couldn’t find it in herself to chime in. She appreciated the upkeep in routine, though. Sure, her life was about to change in countless ways, but hearing her friends gossip behind her grounded her through it all.

Selfishly, she was glad they were coming with her. Even if it meant uprooting their lives to go to a foreign court, they’d agreed without question—the three of them having formed a bond that was deeper than blood.

They were returning from a stroll deep in the labyrinth of the gardens. Today was one of the last times she would see them, the sprawling lands partially the product of Elain’s handiwork over the years. The late summer sun had been warm, causing a slight layer of sweat to form beneath their day gowns. When that softer morning warmth shifted into an afternoon blaze of heat, they eventually ventured back inside to rest.

Up, up, up they went, around the spiral staircase that led to the tower of their quarters. It was something her father hadn’t denied her when she pushed and pushed him after her mother’s death. In fact, he’d hardly refused her anything, conceding to almost every one of her requests.

On this, though, she knew he would not budge. On this, she knew not to ask.

They reached the oak doors that distinguished her rooms in the hallway. Gwyn and Emerie’s were just down the corridor, on the other side of the tower such that they were close if she required anything.

“I would like an hour to myself,” she said softly to them, not yet reaching for the handle of the door.

A hand fell onto her shoulder. Emerie’s. “We’ll be in our rooms, if you need us,” she said, before the sound of footsteps behind her indicated that she had been left alone.

Nesta pushed open the doors, striding into her room with the intent of reading at the windowsill while she still could.

And stopped short, at the sight that was waiting for her.

Sir Cassian’s eyes lifted to meet hers, his body in a relaxed posture where he drew all the attention in the room towards himself, like the large spheres of mass she’d read about in her science books. She wasn’t supposed to have them. It was blasphemy, as her mother would say. A lady, a princess, didn’t need to learn about such things.

She’d never cared, sneaking them in like contraband.

He sat on the long couch in the center of the room, his feet slung up on the table before it as he took a slow bite of the apple in his hand. “Afternoon, sweetheart.”

She wasn’t going to fall into his orbit.

She turned, shutting the door, before taking only a few steps closer. “Need I remind you how you’re to address me?”

It had been an oversight, letting the formalities drop as she had. He’d gotten too comfortable, had gotten too close, and now they were both paying for it.

She remembered that summer solstice night as well as he did. He wanted to kiss her, that much was clear, and she’d had one too many glasses of wine. She’d become used to letting her guard down around him. If she’d had just another drop, she might have let him close that distance.

You can’t touch me like that.

If her heart was her own to give, it might have been different. She prayed that he understood that when she broke away, but the hurt expression that haunted her mind for days afterwards told another story.

Years of trust, fractured in an instant. A guardedness had risen in him, a look that she hadn’t ever seen directed at her.

She had to do it. It was better for them both if she shot…anything down before he got in trouble for it. Secrets, especially amongst royals, could ruin lives.

“Princess,” he said, his voice in a low drawl. He took another bite of his apple. His throat bobbed with his swallow, and Nesta forced her eyes to remain up on his face, not letting them lower. “I trust you had a spectacular morning.”

“What are you doing in my rooms?”

He motioned to the sprawling papers on the table in front of him, noticeably not in the same general vicinity of his feet. “I figured we should go over the details for our little trip.”

She stared at him blankly. “I don’t know what you mean, Sir Cassian.”

He paused mid-bite, lowering the apple from his mouth. “I assumed your father told you.”

“Then you wildly overestimate how much I speak with my father.”

They hadn’t spoken beyond that meeting over a week ago, when she’d taken his direction with her head held high.

Eris Vanserra. She could live with Eris Vanserra. They’d met at a ball once, when the prince and his family were visiting. He wasn’t kind, but he hadn’t seemed cruel, either.

She could live with that.

“I’m to lead the escort to the prince’s lands.” He picked up one of the folders. “Hence, this.”

“You?” she blurted out.

He looked up, taking a brief pause before he said, “Yes, me.”

“No,” she said, quickly. Too quickly. Cassian’s slow blink was his only indication that he heard her. “Find someone else.”

Pain flashed across his face, just for a second before a quiet rage overtook it. “I am more than qualified. And if I recall correctly, I am quite skilled at keeping you out of trouble.”

It was true, but she wouldn’t admit it.

“I don’t care. Tell my father that I won’t have it.”

Even still, Cassian remained firm in his resolve. “I have a direct order from your father. I have been told to keep you safe, and so that’s what I’ll do.”

“I don’t want you there.”

She didn’t want him delivering her into the hands of another man. She didn’t want him there as she said her vows, she didn’t want him within a mile of it.

She didn’t want anyone finding out how weak she really was, how close she’d almost been to giving in. Cassian’s touch had been warm that night

“If anyone finds out–” she started, but she was cut off by Cassian’s scoff.

“You really think I would do that to you?” he asked, incredulously. “Don’t worry, Nes. I won’t tell anyone what happened that night. I know you wouldn’t stoop for a common knight like me.”

She flinched at the tone in his voice, the self deprecation.

He wasn’t done. “I’ll make sure you get to your prince safe and sound, then you never have to see me again.”

He…was angry. And she couldn’t blame him, not after she’d thoroughly avoided him for months.

But still, the words struck deep in her chest, past all the shields and defenses she’d put up around it.

She parted her mouth to speak, but no words came out, leaving the room in a heavy silence. He just shook his head, letting out a long breath before rising to his feet.

“You can read through those. You know where to find me if you have questions about it.”

Cassian walked past her, taking care to ensure he was nowhere within her reach. He was gone in a blink, his footsteps receding down the long hallway, leaving Nesta alone.

The silence was made worse by the fact that if she called, she knew he would be back in an instant.

***

It shocked Nesta how quickly her life could be packed away into trunks. Over the coming days, servants bustled up and down the steps with them, until her quarters were nearly sparse and empty.

She spent her time with Gwyn and Emerie, hoping that her time reading and talking with them might take her mind off of what was to come. The long journey, which would take nearly two weeks, and the wedding afterwards.

All the while, she tried to maintain normalcy. She tried to do more than merely pick at her food, but it didn’t entirely work, and it caused Gwyn and Emerie to look over her with worry. Every day she grew quieter, retreating into herself as she anticipated her departure.

Only three days later, it was time to leave. Her face was white as a sheet the final time she looked in the mirror before making her way downstairs, meeting her sisters at the bottom of the palace steps.

She didn’t look back towards it. She couldn’t.

“You don’t have to do this,” Feyre said, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Say the word, and I’ll…”

Feyre stopped, drawing a complete blank. It was fine. There was nothing to be done, anyways.

She couldn’t remember the last time they embraced like this. The two of them were so often at each other’s throats that she genuinely couldn’t remember the last time they’d done something as simple as hugging each other. The feeling was foreign, but the familial affection was there all the same. Nesta hugged her back, savoring possibly the last time she would see her sisters in a long while.

“It’s what I was raised for,” Nesta whispered. “You know that.”

“That doesn’t mean I like it.”

Feyre had always been idealistic, abandoning all acts of practicality for blind heroism. When they weren’t fighting, it was perhaps one of the things she loved most about her. She only hoped the world wouldn’t beat it out of her over time.

Maybe, if her sisters were lucky, they would get to marry who they loved. Nesta prayed for it.

As much as she clashed with the man, she hoped that Rhys would return and get on his knees before her sister, and that Elain would find someone who truly made her happy. And she hoped her father would allow it.

“I’ll be alright. You know I’ll give him hell if he turns out to be a prick,” Nesta said.

Feyre hummed, the words seeming to placate her, for now. She broke away, giving Nesta’s hand a final squeeze before dropping it.

“We’ll write, then,” Elain promised, when it was her turn to hug her.

“We’ll write,” Nesta agreed, before looking at her sisters for the last time. A moment was all she allowed herself, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to convince herself to turn around if she looked at them for too much longer.

“I love you both,” she said in parting, before turning to the gilded carriage that would be her near-constant companion for the coming weeks.

All she could think about was that she should have said it more, those three words that she could only manage to say when there was no more time to say it. Suddenly she regretted every fight, every petty squabble that meant nothing over the years.

She wondered if they felt the same.

He was standing by the door to the carriage. Ever the knight in shining armor, he was there waiting for her with her ladies, who had given her the privacy to say goodbye to her sisters.

He watched as she approached, a playful smile resting on his lips until she got closer. Until he saw the tears she was trying to stop from swimming in her eyes.

He helped Gwyn and Emerie into the carriage first, only offering polite touches to ensure that they wouldn’t fall on the steps. Then it was just him and her, and he missed absolutely nothing as he evaluated her closer, any semblance of his earlier mask dissipating with the shifting breeze.

He’d always been able to read through every emotion she tried to hide, even when they were children and his favorite hobby was tormenting her every chance he got. His smile softened, concern entering his brow as he noted her paleness and the thin line of her mouth.

“Alright, princess?” he asked, offering his arm to help her into the carriage.

Her hand brushed against his forearm, unable to feel the muscle beneath the armor he wore as she accepted his offer. “I will be,” she forced herself to say.

She pretended that she didn’t feel him stiffening underneath of her, that her words had no effect on him at all.

Nesta only dared to look again when she’d made her way into her seat, across from Emerie and Gwyn. His hazel eyes scorched through her, not-so-subtly assessing every single one of her movements until he was seemingly satisfied.

He held that stare for seconds longer than he should have.

“I’ll be riding in the front, if the three of you require anything,” he said at long last. “Simply say the word.”

He closed the door with a quiet click. Emerie fixed her with a questioning look when Nesta turned her head in their direction, which she dutifully ignored.

Only minutes later, the carriage jolted as the horses pulled it forward, driving them out of the castle gates and into the city, away from the only home Nesta had ever known.

Tag list:

@unlikelypersonalknight1 @c-e-d-dreamer @kale-theteaqueen @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @xxvalkyriesxx @wishcamper @podemechamardek @moodymelanist @burningsnowleopard @scarlettrose80 @underneath-the-sidras @allchaosallthetime @jmoonjones @bobanna81 @shortandcrass @presskmewleroux @theemfingbleachgotmic @misswonderflower @pham-tastical

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #cassian

47 notes · View notes

dreaminofdixon · 2 days ago

Text

I always felt like more of a queen.

A/N:

Here’s another snippet from my story—one that I genuinely enjoy re-reading. I often find myself revisiting my work, not just because I love the story itself, but because I’m always making adjustments. Perfectionism keeps me tweaking things, even when I’m happy with how the narrative unfolds.

At its core, this story is about a relationship that begins with hostility—quite literally at gunpoint—and gradually evolves into something deeper. For me, the journey is the most compelling part. This particular moment is where the "Princess" nickname first comes into play.

__________

“Gettin’ dark.”

I jumped, nearly spilling the precious fuel, and turned to glare at him while he put his weapon over his back.

“Really, Daryl?!”

He casually leaned against the car, obviously pleased with himself. A full day of riding had him looking the slightest bit more relaxed than usual and I was here for it.

But he couldn’t know that.

“Why do you have a thing for scaring me? It’s rude.” I pushed him before returning my attention to the project at hand. “And yes, it’s getting dark,” I shot him a look, “thank you for pointing that out.”

“Jus’ sayin. Should get settled b’fore long.” He glanced over my shoulder before looking back at me. “If yer out too much longer, lemme know an’ I’ll walk ya.”

The corner of my lips curled up into a smirk and I faced him, hand on hip.

“Are you…concerned for my safety?”

“New place.” He brushed it off. “Dunno wha’s ‘round here.”

“Well, I’m glad to know you care.” I held up the half-empty gas can. “I figured you’d wanna top off the bike?”

“Yes’m.”

He took it from me and I expected him to leave, but he stayed right where he was at and watched me pour a portion of the next can into the car.

“Something I can help you with?”

“Jus’ makin sure ya don’ spill.”

“I worked in construction once upon a time,” I told him while I focused on tipping the can into the tank just enough. “Not like…on job sites and stuff.” Carefully, I pulled it away and put the gas cap back on before moving to the next vehicle. “I was the office girl, obviously. But I learned a thing or two. Pumping gas was one,” the gas cap popped off the truck, “filling gas cans to take a couple gallons to guys on job sites, you know,” I explained. “And siphoning gas for just such an occasion.” I smiled to myself when I remembered that day. “I did have some good times. What about you?”

“Always a grease monkey. Tha’s how I know bikes.”

“Oh really? So you are quite handy to have around. Not just a pretty face and a sterling personality,” I teased.

I’m pretty sure he blushed.

“I don’t think people give you enough credit, Mr. Dixon.” I finished emptying my gas can in the truck before I moved to face him and leaned my hip against it. “Truly. I think there’s more to you than you let on, and I can’t wait to learn everything there is to know.”

“Not much t’ know.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, did you finish fueling up the truck?”

The blonde approached us and I shook my head. I let my gaze linger on him for just a second longer before turning to her with a smile.

“Nope. If you wanna take over, I don’t think it needs much more.”

“Great.” She moved between us and set to work. “How much do you think we’ll need for the RV?” She shot a glance at me and then Daryl.

I lifted my shoulders in a shrug.

“Not sure. Probably quite a bit, I’d think, but he would know better than I do.”

“Ladies,” Shane interrupted, “it’s gettin’ dark. We’ve got some cars cleared out, and Lori and Carol put bedding and a light in each of them. Why don’t ya leave the fuelin’ for the mornin’ and go get settled in?”

“Sure.” She emptied the rest of the fuel can and put the cap back on the tank. “This one’s done anyway.”

Shane took the tank from her and grabbed the other.

“Come on, I’ll show ya to your spots.”

“I’m gonna grab something from the RV,” I said. “I’ll find my way in a minute.”

“We’ll wait…”

“I’ll be fine. If I take too long, Daryl can walk me.” Turning to him, eyebrow raised, assumption made. “Unless…you don’t want to.”

“‘s fine,” he grumbled.

The two headed down the freeway, talking quietly to themselves and leaving us behind.

“If you don’t want to…”

“Can’t have ya walkin’ ‘round in the dark by yerself. Go get yer shit.”

“Well, I don’t have anything to get,” I admitted sheepishly. “Just didn’t want to be whisked away in the middle of such a scintillating conversation.” I followed him to the motorcycle and carefully traced my fingers over the chrome handlebars while he worked. “Plus, I know it’s crazy, but I kinda like spending time with you.”

He filled the tank silently.

“I know it’s pure torture for you, though, and I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.”

He scoffed, “no ya don’t.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Because I don’t think it’s torture.”

He set the gas can down and screwed the cap back on the tank before pulling a dirty red cloth from his back pocket and wiping it down.

“I like to think that, somewhere deep inside, you enjoy spending time with me, too. Could just be wishful thinking but…” I shrugged my shoulders.

“If it ain’t,” he mumbled while he focused on his task.

“If it isn’t wishful thinking, and you do actually enjoy spending time with me, then I may go so far as to say it’s possible you might like me?”

He looked up at me, his pretty blue eyes finding mine.

Butterflies.

“Could be possible that I like you, in case you were wondering.”

“Couldn’ tell.” He winked at me.

Swoon.

He tucked the cloth back in his pocket and picked up the gas can.

“Le’s go, Princess.”

“Princess?”

He gave a single nod, “fits.”

“Does it? I always pictured myself more of a queen, actually,” I joked.

“Nah. Princess.”

We began our walk in the direction of the RV.

“Queen’s gotta have a king, right?”

“Sure,” I agreed.

“Ain’t got a king yet?”

“Well, no, not yet.”

He tucked the can away in the RV’s storage.

“Then yer a Princess.”

“Fine,” I sighed dramatically, “but only you’re allowed to call me Princess.”

“Good.”

__________

Thank you for all the love on my other little snippet. <3 I hope you enjoy this one as much as I do!

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #norman reedus #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #norman reedus smut #norman reedus fanfiction #bigbaldhead #wwwbigbaldhead

31 notes · View notes

morganaawriterr · 2 hours ago

Text

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Valentine's Day with Ni-ki;

Pairing; fem!reader X best friend!Ni-ki Synopsis; Just when you're about to leave the house to have a date with Heeseung, your best friend Ni-ki shows up at your door with a sweet confession to make; Genre; best friends to lovers; fluff; Words; 1k Warning; None is just cute asf lol; MASTERLIST;

A/N: I wanted to post something for valentine's day so bad but I don't really like this :( I hope you guys do! As usual likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you so much <3 Happy Valentine to all the girlies and boys in a relationship, to us, singles... well... lets be delulu for a little.

“Ni-ki? What are you doing here?” you question, confused, as soon as you open your heavy front door. Your curious eyes scan your best friend’s face as you gently hold the door open.

“Don’t go…” Ki responds, his beautiful brown eyes locked on yours.

Today is Valentine’s Day, and you have a date with a nice guy named Heeseung, who happens to be one of Ni-ki’s friends. You haven’t talked to Heeseung much, but he showed interest in you, and you decided to give him a chance. He seemed hesitant at first, but then firmly assured you that he wanted to go out with you today, so you got all dolled up just for him.

“What are you talking about, Ki?” you ask, starting to feel irritated by his strange timing. Ni-ki stands tall in front of you, his hands hidden behind his back. You raise an eyebrow and try to peek behind him, but he catches you just in time and steps back to avoid it.

“I’m talking about your date with Heeseung,” Riki repeats, his hands starting to sweat. “Don’t go on that stupid date with him.”

The truth is, he’s been in love with you ever since he met you. Ni-ki realized he wanted you long ago, way before you met Heeseung, but only now, with Heeseung making a move on you, did he find the courage to confess. His heart ached at the thought of you kissing Heeseung after getting all pretty for him.

Riki tries to read your expression, his eyes scanning your perplexed face, then trailing down your figure. You’re wearing an adorable pink floral sundress that isn’t too tight but still hugs your body in all the right places. Your long chocolate-brown hair is carefully straightened, and you’re wearing his favorite perfume.

Feeling his intense gaze, you speak up. “Why would I do that, hm?”

Ni-ki knows you’re starting to get irritated—the stern look in your eyes gives it away easily.

“Because…” Ni-ki starts, but it feels like someone is squeezing his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Because I’m finally here,” he whispers, his eyes locked on yours, hoping you’ll understand what his half-words can’t fully express.

You feel your cheeks heat up, unable to hide your reaction to his words. You’ve liked Riki for as long as you can remember but never really understood your feelings until you started growing up. His cool persona and great fashion sense made him incredibly attractive. But after getting to know him even better, you fell harder. He was more than just cool and well-dressed. He was kind, well-mannered, and made you laugh until your cheeks hurt. And turns out that was the way to your heart.

You never told him how you felt because you never thought he would like you back. After all, he was popular and had many girls chasing after him. That’s why you agreed to go out with Heeseung. Maybe he could distract you from the one-sided love you had for your best friend.

“What are you talking about, Riki…” you whisper, your heart racing at the thought that he might actually like you back. Your eyes shift from his to the floor, too nervous to face him.

“Fuck, Y/N, I like you, okay? I always have. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you,” Ni-ki finally confesses, his ears turning red and his hands trembling slightly as he reveals what he is holding behind his back.

You can’t hide the immense smile that grows on your lips at his words, and when you see the beautiful bouquet of red roses in his hands, you can’t hold back anymore. Happy tears fill your eyes as you reach forward, wrapping your arms around Ni-ki’s neck, your head tucked against him. Your best friend immediately pulls you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his heart finally calming down as he feels your familiar embrace.

“Does this mean you like me back?” he jokes when you pull away to look up at him, your big puppy eyes staring into his. Ni-ki’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

You smile brightly at him. “Of course I do, dumbass,” you giggle, completely lost in the new softness in Riki’s eyes. “Wait, but Heeseung doesn’t deserve this… I can’t just cancel on him,” you say, biting your lip as guilt creeps in.

“Don’t worry, just tell him you changed your mind. He knew this would happen…” Ni-ki explains with a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Heeseung knew Ni-ki liked you, but Ni-ki denied it. Your best friend had assured Heeseung that you were single and that he didn’t like you, so Heeseung asked you out. Despite suspecting Riki’s feelings, Heeseung was genuinely interested in you and was surprised when you accepted his offer.

“Will you be my Valentine?” Ni-ki asks, love practically dripping from his eyes, his smile so genuine and cheerful that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Yes, Ni-ki.”

As the words leave your mouth, Riki steps closer to you, his addictive scent surrounding you. His cold fingers gently lift your chin as he leans in. Your hands reach for his black hair, fingers playing with the strands at the nape of his neck.

His lips feel hesitant at first when they meet yours. Knowing him well, you can tell he’s probably nervous about taking this big step, so you kiss him back confidently, trying to reassure him that you’re more than okay with this. Tilting your head slightly, you silently ask for permission to deepen the kiss, and he lets you take the lead. As your lips mold together perfectly, he relaxes, smiling softly against your mouth, overwhelmed by joy. Your tongues move slowly, savoring each other like you’ve always wished to.

Out of breath, you pull away, a warm blush painting your cheeks. When Riki opens his eyes, he finds you already staring at him, looking prettier than ever with your lips swollen and red from his kiss. Smiling, he gently takes your hand and leads you to his car, ready to drive you to your favorite restaurant and spend a perfect evening with you—just like you deserve.

Little did he know, this was already more than enough. All you really wanted on this Valentine’s Day was his warm lips on yours, finally claiming you as his.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen @laylasbunbunny @mellowgalaxystrawberry @firstclassjaylee @questionsdearreader @greeyjre @en-doll @riqomi @lovingvoidgoatee @mitmit01 @miuwonis @aureliaaaa555 @han-to-my-minho @heeweenie @vixensss @ro-diares @hoonvinx @immelissaaa @jiryunn @quilevyt @vrusha01 @kkamismom12 @skzenhalove @theothernads @moonpri @nicoleparadas @fightqueen @heesunghooney @starl0ver4 @jooniesbears-blog @k1arar3 @riri-lvs-food @kolawnk @mitmit01 @dummyf @tender-is-the-moon @dksfml @tobiosbbyghorl @loveydoveyez @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @hhyvsstuff @moondooll @enchantedtomeetyou

If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #riki x reader #nishimura riki #niki x reader #niki hard hours #niki fluff #niki soft hours #enhypen niki #enhypen smau

22 notes · View notes

faeprincess777 · 2 days ago

Text

Valentine's Day Dates: Ateez Edition

Hongjoong - Chill night in

It’s been a long couple of weeks. The past few months have been a blur of deadlines and exams, leaving you completely burned out. All you wanted was to go home to your boyfriend.

As you walk in the door, a delicious smell hits your nose. As soon as you wander into the living room, you find him waiting for you with a bright smile. He prepared a lovely dinner, poured a couple glasses of wine, and lit a cozy fire. It was everything you could have hoped for.

“I wanted tonight to be perfect. To show you how much I appreciate all that you do for me”

Seonghwa - Lego Date

Everything was set up and perfect. Seonghwa had gone out to buy a new lego set just for tonight. He managed to find a couple of Valentine's Day themed ones. While he was out, he also came across a couples card game that he had seen floating around TikTok and decided to grab that too.

He had ordered your favorite takeout, and it arrived just in time. You arrived home from work just as he put the finishing touches on the perfect night. You were touched at the cute date he put together for you.

“Look I even got you roses, and they’ll never die! We have to build them, though.”

Yunho - Making Pizzas

He just finished prepping everything and making sure the night is perfect. It was a cute little date idea that he saw on one of your Pinterest boards. Setting all of the ingredients out, Yunho got to work prepping the pizza dough, deciding to make cute, heart-shaped pizza together.

When you arrived home, Yunho was giddy. He was so excited for the night he had in store. And seeing the way your eyes light up when you see makes it that much better.

“I may have snuck a peek at your phone, but I just wanted it to be perfect for you.”

Yeosang - Takes you to a nice restaurant

He had it all planned out. Yeosang had told you that the both of you would just get some ice cream and go for a little stroll. As the two of you made your way through the city, talking and laughing, you noticed that you had reached a familiar part of town

Imagine your surprise when he leads you to the new restaurant that you’ve been dying to try. The little gasp of pure joy was all it took to make Yeosang’s heart soar. As you go inside and get seated, he can’t help but stare at you with absolute adoration.

“You look beautiful. I’m so glad to be able to be here with you.”

San - Just relaxing together

He really outdid himself. You called earlier in the day to ask San if he would be okay with just staying in for date night, your voice tight and full of exhaustion. Of course, San had no problem with that. Seeing as it was Valentine's Day, he decided why not just relax together.

He drew up a bath and broke out some of your favorite wine. Next, he prepared a small snack for both of you. All that was left to do was sprinkle some rose petals around and wait. When you returned home, dead tired and found the both San prepared, you nearly cried with how caring and attentive he was.

“Come on, baby. Get in. Just relax with me.”

Mingi - Movie Night

Mingi was so proud of himself. He managed to set up the most perfect Valentine’s date for you. Snacks, check. Champagne, check. The cheesiest rom-com loaded up on the tv, check. All that's left is to pick you up from work and enjoy your night together.

Returning home, you were so happy to see the surprise Mingi had set up. It really was perfect. As you turn to him, surprise, evident on your face, you’re met with his signature smirk.

“Woah, who did all of this?? Weird. Oh, well, let's enjoy it”

Wooyoung - Romantic Dinner

All day, Wooyoung had been preparing a special dinner for you. It was a difficult recipe to perfect, but you were worth it. He even went as far as to call your mother for pointers. All in all, he was pretty pleased with himself.

When you came home a little earlier than expected, he made sure to keep you out of the kitchen, instead instructing you to go and wash up. In that time, he put the finishing touches and set the table. When you came back out, he was waiting with a massive smile. You were so happy to try his take on one of your favorite dishes, and it truly was amazing.

“Of course I made your favorite. This isn’t amateur boyfriend hour.”

Jongho - Fort Date

This week has been hell. Everything that could have gone wrong did and you were so fed up. Unfortunately, that also means you forgot what today was. Scrambling around at the last minute, you try to find something to make it up to Jongho.

When you get home you find Jongho and next to him is a perfectly constructed pillow fort. Inside is all of your favorite snacks and pizza from your favorite place. For some reason you can't understand, he doesn't seem upset that you forgot. He just walks up to you, giving you the sweetest kiss. He tells you that he can tell how stressed you’ve been and reassures you that it was okay.

“Don’t worry about anything. Let's enjoy our night.”

Tagging @mimikittysblog ❤️

#ateez #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

25 notes · View notes

kaliido-s · 2 months ago

Text

Unkindness

Close-ups / Description under cut

Godzilla was born in fire and pain, never knowing any semblance of true compassion. He can’t understand why Mothra would choose to help him, nor does he see any reason to be anything but cruel to the world that scarred him. No matter what, he won’t let the world forget him. He won’t be the only one suffering.

Some close-ups. I chose to depict Mothra as more hazey and dreamlike, showing the disconnect between the two, and how Godzilla views her words as idealistic and unattainable. He brings her down to his level in the second piece, trying to force her to accept that his rage and pain is what’s true.

#first big art piece i’ve ever made for these guys sheesh #took me a long time but i’m pretty happy with it #everyone throw bricks at kalgoji!!!#image id in alt text #godzilla rekindled #kalgoji #fangoji #godzilla #mothra #gojira #kaiju #kaiju art #godzilla art #fankaiju #kaiju oc #kaiju monster #monster oc

474 notes · View notes

psilliguykai · 1 month ago

Note

Gently places my Mind design on the table for ur drawing thing :]]

Heyo! Sorry this took a while but he’s here now!!! Your guy!!!

Agh I love this design and your art so much, both are gorgeous and just all around awesome aaksdmkdmc- tysm for the art req!! :D

#art request #mind chonny jash #cj mind #cccc #chonny’s charming chaos compendium #appalling mustelid tornado #honestly the amazing quality of the design scared me so bad I had multiple crisis while drawing this 😭#if im being honest im not totally psyched with the outcome but I have also been staring at this piece for A Very Long Time lol #still like. I’m pretty happy with it I think :]#uhhh please reblog if you can this took a lot of energy :’) [/lh/nf!!]#soup incident

106 notes · View notes

high-guardian-herbs · 9 months ago

Text

Okay so let me tell you how this came to be

I drew this on my organic chemistry lecture, on the pdf file, using tools that are not made for art, on one single layer, using whatever small space I had between paragraphs, all the while the whole thing would crash like a hundred times, erasing whatever little progress I made, so I had to keep saving the file over and over again after every few lines, sometimes after every line, but the thing is, saving the file usually lead to the file crashing too and losing that small progress over again

What am I trying to say? I’ve don’t the bow tie like 15 times, the eyes 9, the shirt over 20 times, and the hair like only 6 or 7 times thankfully, and the lineart of various thing of the drawing too many times to count

The only reason I didn’t stop is cause I really liked the coloring of the eyes and hair, especially the eyes, they are very pretty and tumblr quality isn’t giving it the justice it deserves lol

#listen this took too long #but darn it this is the happiest I’ve been lately with a finished drawing #also the bow tie and the hair thing was much more beautiful #but I lost the progress on them and couldn’t figure out how I did it the 4th time #so yeah #but I’m still really really happy with it #cause the eyes are very cute and pretty #also pray for my grades guys #lol #high guardian herbs #high guardian spice #high guardian spice reboot #high guardian spice redesign #fanart #I’m getting closer to cracking up Rosemary’s eyes #yay for me

18 notes · View notes

roaringroa · 2 years ago

Text

so grateful that i managed to restrain myself from properly falling in love with my friend and contained my feelings to a common crush

#she’s just started going out with a guy that i think is really going to last #he’s her friend and i met him quite a few times so i know he’s real sweet and will treat her well and i’m happy about that #i’m actually ecstatic that my feelings for her are shallow because we met up and she talked all about how her date with him went #and i swear she told me he and i are similar like 4 times throughout the conversation #which made me go ouch inside but nothing more #if i liked her more i would have been distraught lmao #and also she told me about when she wasn’t feeling well and he took her to the station and offered to pay the uber that would bring her home #that was really expansive so she wouldn’t take the bus #and she refused and went by bus but told me that was so sweet and that’s when she realized he liked her cause who would do that for her?#and i didn’t say anything but when she started the story i thought she was gonna say that he went in the bus with her to take her home #which is like 1 hour away from our uni cause that’s what i would have done lol #anyway now that she’s got a boyfriend it’s only a matter of time till this crush properly goes away and i can’t wait #i know that the heart chooses what it wants and etc but i think i’m pretty good at nipping my feelings in the bud #like i can’t force them not to exist but when i know that it won’t lead to anything i’m good at stopping myself from fantasizing #or from being overly affectionate and things along those lines #which doesn’t make them go away but hinders their growth #the thing is if i think that i have a chance then i cannot stop myself #and then they grow and grow and grow #and it takes me wayyyy too long to get over it #like it took me 2 years to get over a girl that i did not even date lol #it was really tough for me honestly #and that’s why i’m really careful with my feelings now #i never actually thought i’d have a chance with this friend so that’s why i could keep myself from really falling #anyway i do wish my friend and her bf the best like he’s an actual nice guy and her last bf was definitely not which sucked #and once again i need a tinder account lmao #my post

5 notes · View notes

foldingfittedsheets · 8 months ago

Text

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

#ramblies #funny #ffs foibles #dating #the table #writing #story #funny story

6K notes · View notes

lukesaprince · 6 months ago

Text

The Other Man H.S

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

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

Word count: 13.5k+

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

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

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

“Go on Tinder dates.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve been married before…”

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

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

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

“And it wasn’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah… it did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God.

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

“Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

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

You could see yourself being very comfortable here.

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

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date.

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this.

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating.

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man.

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt.

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day.

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is.

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you?

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts.

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to.

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table.

“They are.” You defended.

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face.

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else.

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him.

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?”

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon.

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you.

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones.

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic.

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up.

“What?” You chuckled.

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.”

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently.

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy.

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe.

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck.

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now.

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap.

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again.

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands.

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table.

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too.

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans.

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could.

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so.

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face.

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done.

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out.

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it. “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth.

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you.

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.”

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could.

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body.

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it.

“That can be arranged.”

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless.

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear.

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out.

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him.

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit.

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire.

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.”

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth.

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.”

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more.

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous.

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would.

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received.

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth.

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling.

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him.

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours.

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband.

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.”

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you.

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table.

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him.

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately.

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you.

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist.

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy.

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene.

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling?

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again.

Starting with tonight.

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch.

“Yeah”

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek.

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air.

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again.

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved.

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.”

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close.

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way.

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny.

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh.

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick.

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him.

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you.

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him.

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious.

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down.

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards.

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms.

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.”

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom.

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind.

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself.

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue.

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down.

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat.

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.”

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced.

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now.

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?”

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle.

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name.

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.”

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue.

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.”

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum.

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you.

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it.

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever.

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion.

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more.

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over.

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going.

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.”

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

Tag List: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @gurugirl @hsonlyangelxo @kkr102 @falloutby

@caynonmoondreams @theskyyabove @sykostyles @harryslittlefreakk @avaaas-world

@littlenatilda @grabiolla @forgetdelaney @hislcstyles @yourdatcrazyweirdo

@elidoho @esnyhoney @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @lillefroe @harrysrockstarsgf

@hrrypinks @justlemmeadoreyou @swagg13r @whatamievendoingonhere @delicatepointofharry

@onlyangellucifer @youcan-nolonger-run @gotdrxnkonu @cheappackofcigerattes @idrawshapesonpeople07

@straightontilmornin @mellamolayla @stilesissaved @ribbonknives @scndsofsummer

@floral-recs @styles.sturniolo @maryjahps @babyfratelli7 @voniikg

@complikyfreak @tswiftsgf @triski73 @michellekstyles @freedomfireflies @tiredinwinter @butdaddyilovehim-hs

*please make sure your settings allow you to be tagged ❤️*

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! 🤍

4K notes · View notes