#two: if you see a bar of soap in the shower do you assume it's communal?

[kpmeat]

2nd level of maslow's hierarchy of needs is laughing with my roommate about all the ridiculous terrible men weve known

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 1; ghoap x reader) masterlist

-

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately.

Ghost listens because the periods between missions are long and colourless—he fills the time with paperwork, PT, exhausting his muscles in the gym, and dissociating in a booth at the only good pub on base when Johnny drags him along—and it’s better to tune out the thoughts in his head and replace them with something else. Besides, for as much as he gripes about poorly trained dogs barking too much, he enjoys the sound of Johnny’s voice. It quiets the faint ringing that follows him wherever he goes, an agitated humming that leaves him, on his best days, on the brink of rage.

“Tinnitus,” a doctor says when he brings it up during a routine check-up. Can you shut that fucking noise up?

“Best we can do is get you hearing aids.” Apologetic, sincere even. Stained, as always though, by a trembling, noxious unease. It emanates off the doctor in waves. 

Hard not to feel uneasy around a man in a mask, Ghost assumes. That’s all part of it though. He doesn’t cultivate comfort, doesn’t attempt to engender soft feelings or put the mind at ease. His body and persona are designed to put the body and mind on the knife’s edge of fear, and then tip it over. He leaves the sweet talking and charming to men like Johnny, who babbles red language in a tongue like larkspur. 

Ghost’s first language is oil slick. It stains and it covers and it darkens everything it touches. 

And now, Johnny’s talking about a bird.

A couple months after Las Almas, the first picture comes out. Not a folded up keepsake tucked away in the pocket of a bag or a wallet or the inside of his jacket, but right on Johnny’s lockscreen on his phone. He disapproves at first glance. Not of the girl, but at the thought of keeping something so valuable on display for anyone to see. It’s not how he functions. Everything sacred is burned, destroyed, or—if precious enough—buried so deep underground that salt miners might greet it on the way down.

“Pretty, eh?” Johnny goads, nudging Ghost with his shoulder. He’s all wide grin, eyes electric-blue like the flames of Kawah Ijen. 

She is pretty. Pretty as pie. Not a speck of grit or blood on her; if there’s any edge to her at all, it’s tempered by her smile in the photo on Johnny’s phone. A sugar sweet cunt, by the looks of it, sure it’d taste like candy if he got his mouth on it. He angles his eyes with Johnny’s lips and wonders how many times he’s eaten her out, if hers was the last cunt he ate. Likely. His boy’s the loyal kind, hard to shake off once he’s got his teeth in. Swapping spit or blood, he doesn’t leave once he’s got a taste. 

“Where’d you find her?” he asks instead of agreeing, and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. The bar’s hardly filled out yet; the two of them come early because Ghost’s an old man—that’s what Johnny would say—and doesn’t like to be around people once the sun’s set. It’s a burnished gold now, sun hovering low in the sky when Ghost turns an eye to it. 

“Florist. Met her when I picked up flowers for mam’s birthday.”

Nearly a month then. “And I’m just hearin’ about this now?”

Not in this same pub three times a week since then. Not on the tarmac, suited up and sweating already beneath two layers of gear. Not in the shower beside Ghost’s, fingers reaching over the side for a bar of soap because Johnny can’t be arsed to get his own. Not with his head slumped to let Ghost shave the sides of his head nice and neat, thick fingers splayed over the delicate bone of his skull that Ghost knows would take nothing to break. 

It rankles him until he looks back down at the phone in his hands—the one he’d plucked from Johnny’s fingers even while he whined about Ghost always stealing his shit—and feels his heartbeat slow. It levels out like staring into the scope of a rifle, the molecules of his breath melding with the molecules of the air until even the sound of his heartbeat dulls to the insects around him. 

Johnny purses his lips. “…Wasn’t sure then. Am now.”

“Cunt’s a cunt. What’s there to be sure about?”

“No.” Johnny shakes his head vehemently. “She’s no’ like that. She’s special—I’m telling ye, Lt—” he stresses when Ghost snorts, the sound thick with scepticism, “—she’s a good egg. Smart one. Sweet as pie.”

Sweet as pie. Mutt half-shares his thoughts these days. They must have brought more home than just shellshock and keloids. 

Johnny squawks when Ghost unlocks his phone and thumbs through his photos, trying to wrench it out of Ghost’s hand to no avail. He’s easy to hold back. All he has to do is put down his beer for a second and get a handful of hair and jerk, and there it is. Peace and quiet. A wince bleeding into his peripheral vision while Johnny mumbles something under his breath about him being a mean bastard. 

He snorts again. Even from Johnny, he’s heard worse. 

There isn’t much left of him these days. A tired husk and a taste for Guinness. He bleeds and shaves and wipes it off, smells the viscera still staining his mask that he hardly ever washes, can’t bear to honestly. Waste of fucking time, as far as he’s concerned. Just going to get dirtied again, soaked in blood again within the week. Shaves his head too just to have less to deal with, less to distract him from the single-minded intensity he brings to the job. He’d dematerialize if he could, become a ghost in name and shape, if only the laws of physics allowed. 

Instead he’s saddled with a body that echoes back his age in creaking joints and low back pain. Scar tissue that aches when it gets cold. 

In the months he’s known Johnny, he’s never let himself think about the world outside their bubble. His rank demands a certain level of socialising, and while he doesn’t schmooze with the brass like other lieutenants might, Ghost hardly has the privilege of isolating himself all the time, but still he can count the people he considers close on one hand. 

Not family, but close. The thought of family is sheathed within him; he knows to leave the knife in lest he bleed. Still, Johnny’s fought his way onto the list and now he has to pay with his pound of flesh. 

There’s a switch that’s been off for years, closer to a couple decades, and it flips back on when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes. It twists something in his chest. It turns him into a thing that says maybe it’s better to take than just covet. 

There are other photos of the girl in Johnny’s phone, some likely not meant for present company (Johnny flushes red when Ghost flips to a picture of his bird in a pretty little number, lace cupping her tits and ass, sitting on Johnny’s bed back home and looking back at him over her shoulder with a little grin). Still, it interests him to see this side of his boy; he’s maybe thought of it before in abstract terms. He knows that Johnny’s no stranger to a wandering eye, not with the way he’s built and his pretty boy face. He’s well acquainted with Johnny’s dick, hard not to be in such close quarters; it’s a nice, pretty thing, just like him, a good handful. Nothing like the ruddy battering ram in between Ghost’s legs. The one Johnny once got a glimpse of in the showers after a two week long stint in Kyrgyzstan and paled, mouth gaping open while he stared until he could finally laugh it off. 

Ghost remembers thinking detachedly about how lovely that little gaped open mouth would feel around his cock. 

Surprising that it took this long for him to cotton on to his own desires. 

“Bring ‘er around then. I’ll see for myself how sweet she is.”

Johnny scowls at the sudden uproar from a nearby table. “No’ a chance in hell. Dinnae trust any of these fuckers to behave around her.”

Ghost hums. He’s not wrong to be wary; under the table, Ghost runs a hand over his bulge and gives it a squeeze, lifting his thigh to readjust. She has a lovely mouth too. 

He’s been breathing fire and brimstone recently. Hungering to hear something break. It takes Johnny’s hand on his arm to hold him back, every cigarette puffed down to the filter. The pictures on Johnny’s phone make it seem easy though. 

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately, preening at every opportunity to show her off. He doesn’t know that it takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost’s brain to file the girl in Johnny’s phone under mine, slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn’t that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny. 

He hands Johnny back the phone, face down. “You get one week. Then I wanna meet your bird.”

[moominsuki]

12 DAYS and 20 HOURS WITHOUT YOU w/c: 5.1k - ; NAGUMO YOICHI x F!READER

✎ᝰ he’s a nuisance & you should be glad to be rid of him… so why does your heart ache for him so much? OR the part two in which you finally address your feelings for your hanger on ex.

࿄ ! warnings — porn WITH plot, MINORS DNI, piv, very explicit smut, unprotected sex (wrap up ppl), cunnilingus, fingering, female reader, nagumo is sexy and you will fall in love so pls keep that in mind.

/ note. i should be revising for my exams but instead i wrote this for a man who is severely underrated. it’s gonna be a nagumo fall. enjoy this anywho :P (ps. can be read as a standalone fic)!!

13 days. that’s how long it had been since you had seen nagumo. you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t eating you up inside.

after your small spat (if you could even call it that) you wrongfully assumed he’d be somewhere in your bedroom the next day when you hadn’t seen him on your couch. you were just about ready to scold him for having his feet all over your satin pillowcases.

only when you trudged upstairs, your bedroom was exactly how you left it. the door ajar, a small breeze from the window. pillows not askew. your sleepy kitten lounging on the covers.

at first, you considered yourself relieved. “good riddance,” you grumbled to yourself, falling atop the blankets and sighing, hands brushing at your pet. the chirp of the cicadas eats at your eardrums. has your home always been this quiet?

“whatever. knowing that idiot, he’ll be back in a day or two… now what to do…”

unfortunately for you, nagumo’s unprecedented drop ins had become part of your daily routine. you don’t become aware of the fact until it’s been exactly 4 days and he still hasn’t shown his face. it had already struck you as odd on the second day, let alone the fourth.

“why do you even care?” you ask yourself, standing under the hum of a sweltering shower. why do you care that your ex hasn’t come around to lounge in your home and bother you? in fact, isn’t this a good thing? the first few times it happened, you were irritated beyond belief - telling the man to get lost, locking your windows and doors only for nagumo to show up despite your barrage of insults, whether that’d be in your kitchen or on your couch or even in the shower (the image of seeing a naked nagumo after all this time was truly something, though you’d never admit it to his face, instead opting to throw a hard bar of soap at him and to which you then had to tend to his aching back after he so called “wept in pain.”) so why did he now decide to just ghost you?

“typical,” is all you can think, drying your hair off, eyes lingering on the razor he left on top of the toilet.

day five comes around. a good day at work with a cute man asking you out renders nagumo forgettable. you’re glad your brain decides it’s high time to forget about him. day six, seven, eight, nine. it’s extremely bearable. you start to see him in your dreams on the seventh day - exactly a week since he just up and left. “that’s normal,” you muse. you dream about people that aren’t in your life all the time. he’s no different.

the night of day ten falls. you’re incredibly exhausted, and you’re regretting making plans on saturday with that somewhat attractive man who works across the street. “it’s no biggie. it’s just one day till the weekend and i can cancel.”

you’re nodding off into your dinner. the warm smell of char siu and noodles doesn’t do much to keep you awake.

then you see him. dark brown eyes and a goofy smile to match. it makes you jump so hard you spill half the content of your meal down your shirt. nobody’s there. your cat sits at the leg of your chair, licking the sodden mess off of the ground.

the gravity of the situation dawns on you. you really really miss nagumo.

ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ

day eleven comes and goes and the twelfth drags, as do most fridays. that guy who asked you out the other day offers to drop you home when you’re standing outside. it’s warm out and you think a walk would be good for your head. you don’t decline his offer.

the man asks about you and confirms the details of your excursion, and you politely affirm, answering all his questions and asking them back just the same. “he’s not much of a talker,” you think. you’re not used to that.

by the time you’re home, you just want to pass out. you look around your kitchen, living room - heck, even the bathroom for safe measure, just in case you-know-who decided to drop by. the sound of metal clattering has you running to your bedroom, ventricles pumped. not that you cared… you’d act super cool and nonchalant if when nagumo drops by again. it’s all in vain, anyway. it was just your cat jumping onto your vanity. you shoo her away. your heart falls like a crescendo from loony tunes.

who exactly were you kidding? you had long dropped the facade that your heart wasn’t yearning for the idiot, and you wonder how he’s doing when you settle into bed. it would be unlike him to die in an unforeseeable accident, and he would never succumb to a death on the job. another looming realisation dawns on you.

he’s ignoring you.

you groan into your pillow. it’s not like you could really call him (you totally could, and it’s not because you noted down the digits of two of his burner phones, definitely not) without outing yourself. don’t forget the phone works two ways. forget it. you have a date tomorrow.

saturday comes. you get up relatively early. (un)fortunately for you, it’s a miserable day out, contrasting the beautiful weekdays that had passed.

your date texts you in teasing and sweet fashion and the pre-typed out message that consists of grovelling, apologies and more grovelling sits at your fingertips. fuck it. you can’t stay wound up over a man who probably didn’t want you in the first place.

you get ready very early, and you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, all done up in a silk to do and the accessories to match. it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper date. a few flings here and there, sure, but this seemed real. like a sure thing. similar to when…

!creaakkk!

your cat meowing and dropping things around in your bedroom has you standing up right, casting aside your lipgloss and running to shoo her away.

“honestly, ponyo, you’re such a drama queen-”

the words die on your tongue at the sight before you. nagumo sits at the edge of your bed, kitten fidgeting in his arms. he looks you up and down, and then he sends you an earth shattering smile, eyes crinkled.

“hey stranger. long time no see!”

your mouth opens and closes as he gets up, and ponyo leaps up and away when he places her on the ground.

“do you think she missed me? i think so. with the stuff you feed her, it’s inevitable-”

“are you serious?!” is all you can say, exasperated, gasping. nagumo’s eyes widen, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head.

“don’t tell me you’re still mad at me? don’t make me get down on my knees and beg because-” the man gets cut off again as you all but throw your arms around his frame, face in his shirt, a little shaky. if nagumo feels the wobble of your body, he doesn’t mention it and a hand comes to rest at the small of your back.

“so can i assume that you’re not mad at me anymore?” you shake your head, and nagumo chuckles, nose pressed into your hair.

“i wasn’t mad at you,” you say, muffled into his shirt.

“oh? tell me more,” and you move your face slightly so your cheek is smushed against his shirt, eyes pointed away from him. though, you can already feel the expectant smile on the corner of his lips and you want to slap him. kiss him? both.

“i was mad at myself. and i was going to apologise for what i said but you basically ghosted me… for almost three weeks.”

it’s quiet for a moment until the man laughs, guffaws even and it emanates through his chest. you huff and step away from him, back turned away.

“ok, it’s not that funny. you can stop laughing now!”

“sorry, sorry. i’m done, i promise.” nagumo walks from behind you to step into your line of sight. “and technically, it’s only been… i wanna say 12 days and 20 hours.”

you deadpan. then you roll your eyes. “you were counting?! you’re unbelievable!” and he just pouts at you. eyes wide and shiny. you don’t admit to him that you’ve also been doing the same. that day’ll come.

“i mean, i would’ve come around sooner buttt! contrary to popular belief, i’m not so socially inept to not give you space. although, i was starting to think you were replacing me with that loser at that law firm. i want to say his name is hajime-”

“okay, not even close-”

“and what kind of idiot takes their woman out to a sushi bar on the first date. and he drives a toyota camri. he’s lame.”

“…first of all, i’m not his woman. how did you know i was going on a date tonight? and how do you even know what car he drives?”

“…let’s not sweat the details. that dress is new, right? haven’t seen it before. looks beautiful on you-”

“so not only were you spying on me but you were ignoring me?!” you fist the man by the collar of his coat and you just loll your head onto his chest. “were you always this crazy when we dated?” you hum and he laughs again. like he knows you’re addicted to the sound and how it makes your tummy ignite into something worse than flames. his hands find their way into his pocket and he shrugs.

“probably. but you liked it.” you don’t bother to contend. nagumo grabs you by the wrists, and takes a good look at you. his deep eyes follow the sliver of gold against your collarbones, all the way down to the hemming of your dress. it makes you feel hot under your heart shaped neckline.

“like the dress. like it a lot. wouldn’t waste it on some shitty sushi and cheap sake, though.”

“well it’s not you taking me out tonight though, is it? it’s…” you think for a second. you can feel the laughter blooming in his chest and you try to fight your way out of his grasp, though it’s in vain. nagumo laughs so hard that the pout on your face starts to pop into a smile and it’s infectious enough that you laugh too.

when the laughter inevitably dies down, you and the dark haired man share a look that you encompasses all the thoughts and emotions that have been swimming in your head the past long few days. he’s still holding you by the wrists, your fingers crinkling against the loose material of his shirt.

nagumo says your name, more so to himself as his tattooed hands stay wrapped from the width of your jewellery clad wrists down to your forearms.

“you’re being awfully touchy to a woman who’s supposed to being out on a date in a few hours,” you say, just above a whisper.

he hums at that, pulling you in further by the elbows. “i guess you’re right. you could always tell me to go away, though. wouldn’t be the first time.”

you groan audibly and he shoots you another grin that climbs its way into the wrinkles of your brain. “what do i have to do for you to not bring that up? and don’t make me get on my knees and beg-”

“damn, that was my first choice too!” you roll your eyes. he’s still holding you. your palms are flat against his chest. “i suppose i could call it even if…” nagumo pretends to ponder for a moment. you try to shove him with as much power as you can on the man.

“if you don’t just come out with it-”

“kiss me.”

the speed at which your eyebrows almost shoot into your hairline is unprecedented. you try to read his face for any sign of playful unfairness, but you’ve known him long enough to read the softness of his eyes.

your hands fist at his shirt again and it’s your turn to laugh at him, head thrown back. he pouts in response.

“you’re unbelievable,” and before he can retort, you lean up on your tip toes to do as he asked. he’s exactly how you remember, all those years ago. warm, sweet, slightly intoxicating. the sigh you release is shaky and he swallows it whole. the width of his palms immediately let go of your arms and find purchase on your waist and your hands travel all the same, resting on the planes of his face and neck.

the kiss is over before it started and you don’t even get a chance to breathe before nagumo is back on you, pulling you in by the hips, tongue slipping in comfortably like you’ve always been this way. and you give in, your body adapting to years old muscle memory. it’s like you’re almost a decade younger all over again, and your brain turns to mush when nagumo gropes you, grabbing all the parts he can to get impossibly closer to you.

you almost don’t notice the way he throws off his coat. and the fact that he’s trying to get you onto the bed. almost.

you protest in a breathy whine, breaking apart from locking lips. “we-i can’t. my date-”

“sucks. he sucks. i’ll take you wherever you want. buy you everything you want. just let me have you.”

you’re too out of it to even give a snarky answer, grabbing nagumo by the neck and pressing your lips to his own once more. he grunts, lightly pushing you both down onto the pillows.

he breaks apart from the kiss to lave more around your jaw, with one heavy hand resting on your cheek while he bruises on your neck, clavicle and the top of your breasts, all heavy and imposing. you writhe in his touch, and you can’t help the fact that your thighs start to rub against each other to soothe the heat arising in your core.

as perceptive as ever, nagumo quickly notices and makes fast work of placing his leg between your own, and you can’t help but breathe out a winded “yoichi.”

he groans, smirking against your collarbone. “missed hearing you say that.”

you huff, pushing his hands down the curves of your body. “don’t push your luck, nagumo.”

he chuckles, unfazed, and smooth, deft fingers climb under the hem of your satiny dress. he hikes your dress high enough to see a flash of damp cotton panties.

he presses a digit against your clothed clit and you can’t control the way your head falls against your pillows, mouth falling open as you whine out his name again.

nagumo halts all movement though, pushing himself backwards to lean further onto his knees off the bed. you practically jump up, confused and stupidly horny.

“strip for me.”

you narrow your eyes. he shoots you a saccharine smile, and you don’t bother to banter with him, getting on your haunches and pulling down a thin strap on either arm, and shimmying out of the garment. you can tell by the elated shock in nagumo’s eyes that he hadn’t expected you to comply but you throw the dress in his face, and he shakes it off faster than you can adjust yourself on top of the bed covers. he’s already crowding over you, face mere centimetres away.

“sorry, you can’t be the only one having your fun,” you tease, leaning up to kiss his nose and it’s his turn to not take your bait, but maybe it’s because he’s too enamoured at the sight of your naked body after all this time. a tattooed hand reaches up to grab a handful of your boob, pinching slightly at your nipple and the other makes it descent down to the hemming of your panties. his fingertips dip into the front, pushing the material to the side and he groans when he can see the way your pussy clenches over nothing.

“you’re so pretty,” he sighs, and you watch the way he touches you, featherlight and it has you writhing, inching closer to feel more of his touch.

“patience, baby.” nagumo throws off his shirt, and you take in the expanse of his never ending tattoos. your hand reaches up to touch the one on his stomach and he smirks, albeit warm and slightly teasing.

“got a few new ones a couple months back,” he all but whispers and you hum.

“i like them,” you state, matter of factly and he pushes your hand away to lay on his stomach between your legs.

nagumo’s face presses into your belly, and you push a few fingers into the dense strands of his hair. he kisses you at the belly button, paving a wet path down to your moist underwear.

he noisily smooches on your panty clad clit and you wordlessly protest in embarrassment, groaning and whining while he smiles against you. though, you’re quick to stop complaining when he pushes your panties to the side and breathes you in, kissing your uncovered pubis. now you’re frantically trying to push him away instead.

“you’re so shameless,” you fuss and nagumo doesn’t say anything. he only pushes your legs further apart to accommodate him.

“can i eat you out?” he asks and you raise a brow, face flushing. he shrugs, “i wanna hear you say it.”

you want to insult him for trying to fluster you in his own weird way but you’re also stupidly, ridiculously turned on right now that you can’t be bothered to play this cat and mouse game.

your hands cover your face and you mumble ever so quietly, verbatim: “please eat me out.”

“can’t hear you, sweetheart. come on, you can’t possibly be acting all shy. my face is literally in your-”

“just please eat me out!” you say, exasperated and incensed by the burning desire to have his mouth on you.

nagumo doesn’t mess with you any further but he can’t help the snicker that escapes him. you’re also ready to call him names and berate him, unfortunately being the hot head that you are, but it’s a useless act because nagumo already has your pants down your legs and strewn across the room somewhere, and he’s immediately pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on your love button.

a strangled “yoichi!” escapes from your throat and you’re already helplessly weaving between the strands of his black hair. it only goads him on further, and your head struggles to keep itself up when he thumbs at the hood of your clit, lifting it up to suck at the bundle of nerves. you become one with the plush pillows beneath you once again.

nagumo’s tongue soothes and pokes around, sucking and kissing at all the sensitive parts of your flower. he lifts one leg up higher to allow him more access, and you lock your fingers on top of his hand that grips ardently at the tender skin of your thigh. you have no time to react when you feel two fingers press into your cunt hole, and you chant his name like a mantra, gasping and almost tearful from the way he feels.

you can feel his dark brown eyes on you, and he stops tasting you to bite your inner thigh. you yelp, and he lulls over where he indented you with his teeth.

“you’re close, right? want you to look at me when you cum,” is all he says, and you don’t get to reply when he’s back sucking your pearl into his mouth, pressing his fingers against a certain spot inside you that has your legs trying to close in on themselves around his head.

“f-fuck, ‘ichi, i’m gonna cum,” you moan, and per his request, your eyes stay on his own, and you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, the applied pressure stopping you from falling back and losing it.

“say my name like that again,” he groans, and you don’t fail to notice the way he grinds against the bed ever so slightly. “come on, baby, you’re almost there-”

“hnngh, fuck, right there ‘ichi, ‘m cumming-,” you gasp and a flash of white behind your eyes renders you temporarily paralytic, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in an ‘o’, and the grip on nagumo’s hair tightens. he keeps a firm hand on your thigh, and your heart would burst at the romantic gesture of him interlocking your fingers together at literally any other time, but he doesn’t stop his assault on the spongey spot inside you until you go limp and you practically have to pry the man off of you.

nagumo’s no sadist (to you, at certain times) so he stops, pulling back and watching the way your chest heaves and the way you glisten between your upper thighs. you don’t register that he’s next to you again until you feel nimble fingers touching on your lower belly. you open your eyes to look at him, and the full blown lust in his eyes makes you choke a little bit.

you grab his hand off your stomach to kiss his fingertips, and then you’re clambering on top of him, palms splayed against his decorated chest. you feel the thickness of his hard cock pressed against your wet core, and you grind against the strained material of his trousers. nagumo grunts, head falling back slightly as he immediately finds purchase on your ass.

“you’re hard,” you assert, and he laughs a little breathlessly and it breaks off into a moan when you press down on him a little harder.

“i guess i am,” he rustles, squeezing your lower curves to push you against his stiffness. “you should let me put it in.”

“oh? is that so?” you say, taunting the man as you slide up and down his neglected cock that’s begging to be released from its confines.

“yeah… wanna fuck you, baby.” nagumo’s all heavy eyelids and suave lips as he gazes up at you, hands all touching all over you. you’re heating up from his languid touches, and you’re cursing yourself for already being so raring to go after he ate you to his heart’s content.

“okay,” is all you say, and you shimmy backwards to undo the man’s bottoms, unbuttoning his pants and helping him kick them off till he’s left in tight gray boxer briefs. your eyes find the damp patch on the front of his shorts, and you softly finger the head of his cock through the cloth. nagumo grunts, sighing your name when you waste no time pulling down his underwear to reveal him in all his glory.

“didn’t that hurt?” you wonder out loud, more to yourself if anything, and nagumo realises you’re referring to the tattoo above his pelvis, only shy of the dark trail that nests above his erection. he places a hand over your wandering one and he chuckles.

“a little. nothing i can’t handle.” you make a noise of something, and you lean down to kiss him very gently and so very close to where he wants. nagumo groans, and he reaches down to pet your hair.

“another time,” you wink, biting your lip. nagumo smiles, raising a brow and he looks like he wants to ask you what you mean but you’re ahead of the curve and you’re settling back up on his lower body, your soaked heat brushing and sliding against his cock. he’s putty after that, head in the clouds as he feels the drench of your lips rub against the hardness of his cock.

“tell me you want it,” you say, and you stop looking down to where you’re almost conjoined to meet nagumo’s eyes; his face contorted to something readable only to you. “or, you know, you could just cum like this.”

nagumo moans at that, and he sets a heavy handed grab on your ass. “don’t remember you being such a tease, baby, sh-shit.”

you croon at his words. you don’t stop the ministrations of your grinding and the raven haired man beneath you barely puts out until the slick of your cunt hole catches the mushroom shaped tip of his cock.

“fuck, i want it, baby, want you to cream on me-” and you don’t let him finish his vulgarity because you grab him at the base of his cock and settle yourself right on top of him, inch by inch.

nagumo hisses, and his iron grip on your hips doesn’t subside until he’s all the way inside you. you both simultaneously moan in relief when he’s by the hilt, and you can practically feel him all the way in your throat.

“fucking missed this so much,” he keens, and you feel him raise his knees to accommodate to you better. you slowly get the rhythm going, grinding and gently bouncing on his dick and you’re delirious at the way his pubic hair brushes against your swollen clit, and how you can feel the slap of his weighted balls against your ass.

nagumo plants his feet on the bed, refusing to loosen his grip on you and you can’t even bring yourself to care about the bruises that’ll stay depressed into your skin. you move one of his number decorated hands to grab at your chest, which he complies with and the other stabilises you against him so that he can thrust into you at a steady pace.

“so, so good,” you whine, almost falling forward by the jolt of nagumo’s body. you plant both arms on either side of his head, tits bouncing in his face, going back and forth against his open mouth that tries to catch a pebbling nipple.

taunting words leave his mouth as he watches you try to keep up. “feel good, baby? shit. tell me how it feels, y-yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this, huh?”

you clench around him tighter. “hnnngh, so fuc-fucking good, ‘ichi.”

you lean down on your elbows, and while he bucks up into you, his eyes don’t stray, and when your lips follow the sharp lines of his jaw and press on his jugular, nagumo angles his head so you can sloppy kiss him on the mouth.

it’s like that for a few moments until he stops to throw you off of him, and you’re ready to whine and complain, but he’s already on you again, this time on top.

“gotta take my time with you,” he breathes, and he finds a new position, this time pulling your left leg over his shoulder and spreading the right one to fit around his hips.

“is that code for you were gonna cum too fast?” you giggle, and nagumo doesn’t grace your playful ribbing because he slips back into you and your once teasing laughter breaks off into a deep moan of pleasure.

“don’t make fun of me,” he says, feeding his cock into you at an achingly slow rate, “hurts my feelings.” and you want to call him embarrassing and silly, you really do, but your heart is on your tongue and nagumo overcrowds every part of your senses.

nagumo leans over you, and grinds himself inside your compact walls. his face is in the crook of your neck and he teethes at the tender skin. you throw a callous hand in hand to satiate the hunger in your belly.

the unrelenting pace in which he fucks you is downright insane: all you can think about is him, all you can smell and taste is him. when you open your eyes, he’s looking down at you, holding and stretching you open, spitting not-so-sweet nothings at you. you worship him all the same, crying out his name, begging him to take you harder and faster, nails raking across the width of his back.

“you’re s-so, hah, shit, you’re so gorgeous,” he moans, “not gonna last, f-fuck.”

you’re almost there, teetering on the finish line, so nagumo ever so slightly adjusts his position, and he presses his cock head against that point inside you. you’re weightless in his hold, writhing when he reaches down to rub taut circles against your puffy pearl. it’s enough to make you sob, gasp and cry out a throaty “‘ichi!”, back arching, toes curling.

nagumo takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, bruising against the creamy flesh of your tits. his speed and movement becomes sloppy, rushing to the edge, the echoes of skin slapping against each other. your tearful face and your short winded begging (“cum inside me, yoichi” and “want you to fill me up”) in the midst of your intra-climatic hue are enough to get him to empty out hot inside of you, his eyebrows furrowed and an o-shape taking over the soft shine of his mouth.

you pull yourself up by the hand on the back of his scruff to kiss him wetly, tongue and all and he takes it, moaning and cursing out your name while pushing his seed deep inside you.

it’s quiet except for mingling, heavy breaths and the creak of your bed when nagumo falls on top of you. you squeak in protest, trying to push the lug of a man off.

“get off me you big idiot!” you squeal, and you feel his body shaking while he’s closed in on you.

“you’re nice and warm,” he sighs, “think i could stay like this for a good, couple of hours.”

you scoff. your hand reaches up to pet at his damp hair. nagumo smiles against your clavicle.

“do you think i still have time to go on that date?” you say, all forlorn and nagumo’s head shoots up, in which you laugh at the way his face contorts. he grumbles, and he eases out of you slowly. you hiss, but the grin on your face stays all the same.

“you think you’re so funny,” nagumo dryly contends and you sit up, kissing him on the nose.

“what can i say? learnt from the best,” you reply, just to the point where only he can hear you.

you think he’s so ridiculously easy (you won’t ever tell him that) when he returns your grin, and grabs your face to kiss you, all over you cheeks and lips.

“damn right, baby, damn right.”

EXTRA, EXTRA - read all about it:

“by the way, what did you mean when you said i owed you one?”

nagumo pulls his head from your chest, tv blaring and illuminating his puzzled, adorable expression, a piece of popcorn dangling from his mouth. his face turns blank as he ponders. then it’s like a lightbulb switches on above his head.

“oh, i fed ponyo and let her out onto the balcony but that old man saw me and i convinced him that he was seeing things so he wouldn’t call the cops… you’re welcome!”

“you did WHAT?!”

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[mistydeyes]

Hit the showers with Soap? 👀👀 he’d 100% do something like that! He’d definitely get chewed out by price or ghost lol

YES ANON 100% he is literally such a shithead this was so written for him

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompt: hit the showers (18+) - a prank ends with you getting your clothes and towel stolen

pairing: Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, mild nudity, sexual depictions

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"Alright I'm gonna hit the showers," you called as you exited the sparring and training room, "put some ice on that Garrick." You turned and smiled as you saw Gaz flipping you off in the corner of your eye. Another successful training session where you kicked Gas's ass and then were absolutely taken out by Ghost. Your body ached as you walked into the locker room. The gym showers were practically empty so you walked to your locker and grabbed a fresh change of clothes and your shower caddy. You placed your clothes on a bench adjacent to the stall and peeled off your issued shirt and threw your shorts to the side. You rolled your sweaty shoulders before turning on the warm water and savoring the sensation. You were accustomed to quick showers or lack thereof on the field but you always took your time when back on base.

As you shampooed your hair and faced the shower head, you could hear the thud of feet entering. You knew it was a public space so you were unbothered by the interruption. "Water's hot today," you called out to the other soldier but they didn't reply. You shrugged as you continued your routine, tying your hair up after you conditioned and using the bar soap to clean your bruised body. Eventually, after 10 minutes, you turned off the shower and cracked the curtain to reach for your towel. As your damp hands felt only the cold tile instead of the fluffy object, you assumed in your haste you might have left it on the bench. However as you exited with a cloud of steam, your eyes fell on the bench with no clothes or towel in sight. "What the fuck?" you said aloud and walked towards your locker leaving a trail of wet footprints. After angrily throwing it open, you found that it was empty. Now you know someone was really fucking with you and you had your suspicions. You angrily grabbed a damp towel from the laundry bin and stormed off to the men's barracks.

Your first arrival was to Soap and Gaz's room. You pounded on the door as you heard Gaz yell that he was coming. The minute he opened the door, you shoved past him and stood with your towel wrapped around your body. "Who the fuck took them?" you yelled as your angry gaze shifted from him and Soap who was leisurely sitting on his bed. "What are you talking about?" Gaz asked as you felt his gaze on you. "Can it, Garrick," you commanded, "where the hell are my things?" Soap couldn't deny how hot you looked at the moment, clad in a small towel, dripping wet, and absolutely fuming. "You fucker," you whispered as you saw your gym clothes haphazardly sticking out underneath his bed. You ran over and bent down to grab them, not caring that your towel slowly dipped as you reached under the bed. As you looked up, you couldn't help but notice something new growing in his shorts. Now, you were extra pissed. You then proceeded to hold your clothes in one arm and smack Soap with the other. As he yelped in pain, two more individuals joined to see what the commotion was about.

"What's going on here?" you heard Price shout as you stopped your attack. You turned around as you held your towel around your figure tighter. "Mactavish thought it was a brilliant idea to take my shit while I was in the shower," you fumed as you could feel his eyes stare at your ass. You took the opportunity to turn around quickly and plant a slap on his cheek. There was an audible groan following that. "You and me, tomorrow, in the ring," you spat before you walked towards the door. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to take another shower," you said politely and walked past the staring eyes of your team.

As you walked down the hallway, you could hear the lashing the Sergeant was getting. First, it was Price reprimanding him for sneaking into the female quarters and stealing your clothes. Then it was Ghost who yelled about the fact you had to walk through the halls in a dirty towel. In between the loud voices, you could hear Gaz laugh and reply. You couldn't help but smile when he said, "She should've slapped you harder after that."

[barefoothighlander]

hiii hope your day is going well <3 could you pls do something where ghost and the reader are just starting to see each other? the reader is on the team and ghost finally asked them out on a date. i just wanna see your view on what he’d plan out for the first date. also the night could end with smut 👀 (only if you think it would ofc)

the very first night

YESS sorry this got me too excited, he'd be so nervous about the date, trying to make it romantic UGH idc what anyone says that man would be so awkward on dates, so cute

warnings: fluff, mdni (18+), unproteted pinv, riding, sex in a car;), two idiots in love tbh

You had been working with the 141 for a little over a year, growing close to them, but mostly Ghost. He avoided you at first, you thought he hated you but it turned out you made him nervous, he had admitted it a while back, saying that being around you gave him butterflies and he didn't understand what those were but he'd like to take you out on a date.

You were more than willing, mostly out of intrigue, most of your interactions were short, he didn't talk a lot and you could never read him behind that mask, you wondered if he wore it off base. You felt drawn to him, always glancing at him during meetings, you found yourself blushing when he'd address you by your real name rather than your call sign.

He had asked you to go on a date on Thursday, you thankfully had the week off to try and settle your anxiety, showering and prepping yourself for the date. He didn't tell you much of what he had planned, honestly you assumed he would take you to some small bar, none the less you got dressed, nervous that this would be the first time he saw you with your hair and makeup done, the bar for your appearance set rather low considering he'd only ever seen you in uniform.

You waited by the door, bouncing your leg in anticipation, around 7 you heard a knock, opening it to see him, he was dressed rather plainly, in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that let you see the full image of the tattoo on his forearm, to your dismay he still wore a mask, but at least the balaclava let you see a little more of him. You beam a smile at him, his arm extending to hold out a small bouquet of flowers.

"I wasn't sure what the protocol was so I asked Soap, he said I should bring flowers"

You soften our gaze, grabbing the flowers and giving them a small sniff,

"They're beautiful Simon, thank you"

You move to place them inside,

"You look great," He says nervously,

"You're not so bad yourself" You giggle, you close your door and he waits for you to walk down the stairs before opening your door to the car,

"Such a gentleman"

He huffs a nervous laugh, moving to settle in his own seat before driving off. You drive for a few minutes, the radio in the car set on some 70's rock station, you wondered if he actually listened to this music or if he just put it on to fill the silence. He parks the car on a dirt road,

"We have to walk from here"

You glance around eyeing the terrain, there's a small path bordered with trees,

"You're not gonna kill me are you?" You joke

"What? No."

You widen your eyes a little at his quick response, walking beside him down the path. You reach your hand to wrap around his bicep, feeling his muscle tense under your touch before he relaxes, your thumb drawing small patterns over the skin ad the two of you make your way to a clearing,

"Here, the ground's a little rough so, watch your step"

You move forward to walk and he grabs your hand, helping you keep balance, your hand fits in his perfectly, he moves with you, his hand moving to pull away but you squeeze it, keeping it to yours. He feels himself relax a little under your grip, directing you to a blanket he had set out. your eyes widen at the sight completely taken aback by the scene. He had laid a blanket for the two of you, a small lantern on top beside a little cooler.

"You did all this?" You say glancing up at him,

He chuckles shyly, "Yea I um, don't do great in restaurants so I figured this might be better"

You swear you feel your heart swell, you walk towards the blanket tugging him behind you as you sit down, you're facing toward a small pond, the sun just dipping below the horizon as it sets, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

"Is it alright?"

You look at him with a smile, a soft hand resting on his leg, "It's perfect"

He huffs a small laugh, opening the cooler and pulling out some sandwiches and drinks.

"I'm not a chef by any means but, they're good I swear"

He hands you a sandwich, truth be told he could give you burnt toast and you'd still look at him with hearts in your eyes. You bite into it, pleasantly surprised that it tasted rather good, you nod your head at his waiting face, a crinkle forming beside his eyes as pride fills his chest.

You watch him unwrap his sandwich, moving his hands to his mask apprehensively,

"Oh, I can just-" You say, turning your body to face away from him

"No, it's alright"

He takes a deep breath and removes his mask, your heart skips a beat, he's gorgeous, you'd only ever seen his eyes before and you found them mesmerizing, dark orbs that twinkled in the light, but the rest of him, his dusty blonde hair, his plush lips, a small scar that cut through his eyebrow ending just above his cheekbone. You wanted to stare at him forever but you felt him grow shy under your gaze, pulling your focus back to your food.

You sit in silence as you eat, the air filled with the sound of wind blowing through the tall grass as you watch the colours of the sky change, the cool air settling the heat that roamed under your skin.

"So, um, what do you do outside of work?" He asked,

"Oh, not a whole lot, I like to garden if the weather is right, sometimes I'll go see a movie if there's a good one playing, I caught this late showing of Dracula last week"

He's clinging on to your every word, "I love that movie"

You smile, "What about you, what does the Ghost do in his off-time?"

"The Ghost, I'm not sure, Simon reads a lot though"

"Oh, sorry"

"No it's alright, most people don't know me behind the mask so I get it"

"Well I like the you behind the mask"

His cheeks flush with heat as he smirks, leaning forward to turn the lantern on. You scoot yourself closer to him, leaning your head against his shoulder, he melts into your touch, his cheek resting against your head.

"So what music do you listen to," You ask

"Whatevers on the radio, mostly classic rock" So it was his radio choice You chat about hobbies, wanting to get to know each other better, you learn that he liked bourbon, tea with a lot of sugar, he always wanted a cat but could never justify getting one. Somewhere in the middle the two of you fell back, eyes staring at the stars in the sky, your hand on his chest, fingers skimming over the muscle. In a surge of confidence, you pull yourself up his form, placing a kiss to his lips, pulling back quickly,

"Sorry, I- I don't know what that was"

He stares at you for a moment before his hands move to hold your cheeks, moving in to kiss you, your lips melt into his, they're soft and plush, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that" He huffs and you giggle, moving to kiss him again.

"It's getting late," He says, you nod, "Should probably get home"

He grabs your hand pulling you up as he gathers up the picnic, guiding you back to the car. He throws everything in the trunk before getting into the driver's seat,

"I had a really nice time-" His sentence is cut short as you connect your lips again, this time it's deep, he pushes his tongue past your teeth, swirling it with yours as his hand moves to hold at the small of your back. Your body moves forward, climbing over the centre console to straddle him as you keep your lips to his.

"Are you sure you want to?" He asks breathlessly,

"So badly"

He holds you to him as you begin grinding down, his length hardening against your core.

"Because you know if you're having second thoughts"

You cut him off with another kiss, "Simon please"

And who is he to deny you, reaching to palm at your ass, pressing you down onto him as you moan, you feel the tent in his pants form below you, urging you on.

"I don't have any protection"

"I'm on the pill"

The prospect of being inside you raw excites him as he reaches down to unbutton his pants, your hands roaming over his form, his fingers moving to toy at your clit, your head falling forward against his shoulder as you moan breathlessly against his skin. He pulls your panties to the side as you lift up, allowing him to line himself up, you brace your hands on his shoulders before sinking down.

The stretch of him burns but it feels too good to stop, you inch your way down slowly as he plants kisses to your neck, buttoning out with a grunt from him, getting adjusted to his size before you begin moving up and down. He throws his head back as his hands settle on your hips, just holding you,

"Shit that feels amazing love"

You bounce up and down on him, the stimulation from his pubic hair grazing your clit, as you pull him in for another kiss, it's sloppy as you feel yourself unravel on top of him, his grip tightens on your hips, pulling you down on him harder, chasing his own high. You raise an arm to plant your hand on the roof and he holds your hips up, fucking into you, his hands pull at the top of your dress, letting your breasts fall free as he takes one into his mouth.

"Please, don't stop" You sigh

"I'm not gonna last, where do you want me" He manages through grunts.

"Shit, inside, please need to feel you"

Your words go straight to his cock as his balls tighten, the sensation of him pulsing just enough to bring you over the edge as you cum, head falling forward to rest against his as he spills into you with a string of curses. His arms snake around your back to hold you, placing a kiss to your swollen lips.

"So would you want to do this again sometime?" He huffs and you laugh, chest vibrating against his. The two of you gather yourselves, cleaning up before returning to your original seats, he rests his arm on the console, you grab it with a tender hand and place it on top of your thigh and he smiles to himself. The drive back was quiet, a newfound adoration for classic rock forming in you as you could almost make out him quietly singing along. You arrive back at your house, stepping out of car while Simon's arm finds your waist again, walking you to the door, you reach the top of the steps and he leans down to kiss you as your hands grab at the collar of his shirt.

"Did you want to come in?" You ask

He doesn't even think to answer, he simply snakes an arm under your legs and lifts you up, carrying you into the house as his foot closes the door, your giggles echoing throughout the building.

[cybercl0ne]

can you please do brat taming with two masked men

Brat taming (200 follower special) // Ghost + Soap x NB!Reader // 18+

I gotchu my sweet, sweet anon 😇 (They/Them pronouns used)

Summary: For the last few weeks Ghost has been acting strange and finally shows you why and how to behave with a little bit of help.

TW: Anal, oral, giving/receiving, DP, Slapping, pounding, edging, minor degradation

A/N at the bottom!!!

You sat at the bar, sipping your smooth yet hard liquor, pondering on your last mission with your lieutenant.

Ghost was already acting off when you sat on the plane, talking to soap. His banter halted when Ghost grunted obnoxiously loud. “Focus on the mission Johnny.” He spat, shifting his stance to gaze at you. You scoffed, thinking Ghost just lived to ruin everything fun. He’d gruff and rumble when you and Soap would announce quietly that you were going out for drinks, or if Price would pay your shoulder just a little too long, his calloused fingers fathered on your vest. He’d talk your ear off if you’d walk out of your quarters to go to Farah‘s room. When Ghost walked into the bar, locking eyes with you, you assumed tonight would be no different. You watched from the side of your eyes as Ghost approached, sitting down a couple seats away, yet making his bearing presence known by penetrating his gaze into your face. You sigh, deciding to get to the bottom of his ruthless judgement over you. You’d never see the smirk on Ghost’s face when you travel over to him, his eyes stuck on your tempered face, agitated yet confused. He loved that look the most. “Soldier?” He grudged. You rolled your eyes, your hips swaying to one side.

“I assume you’re here to bombard me about drinking to?” You sass, looking at how he held himself, swinging his bourbon around, his devious mask still glued to his face. He didn’t respond, only grunting deeply like usual. You chuckle, sitting down next to him. “Why drink this stuff? It’s disgusting.” You claimed, tapping the table as you stared his drink. He lifted it to his jaw, unfolding his mask just enough to sip the drink. You watched in awe at the chiseled jawline, his stubble beard and his bulging hands. He catches your blunt eyes and laughs, showing his oddly sharp teeth.

“Bourbons the good stuff. Tells you about your age by how well you take it.” He jokes, taking pricks at you. You scoff. “Har, Har.” You jokingly smile, resting your arms on the table, nearly forgetting why you came over to him in the first place. You decide to pay your tab, tipping your lieutenant a goodnight, stepping out of the packed bar. You stand outside, grabbing a cigarette, deciding that if you didn’t use one now, Price would catch you using one again at the quarters.

Before you’re able to light it, a force snatched your cancer stick from your lips. You snarl, looking at the perpetrator. When you see its Ghost, you smack your tongue, putting the lighter away. “Not a smoker, huh?” You cough, looking up at the looming eyes of parental disappointment. You chuckle at the memory of that glare, seeing him place the cigarette on the muddy floor, squeezing it under his heavy-duty boots. “I know you’re aware it’s not good for you kid. Also not supposed to be doin’ it here anyway.” Ghost grunts. You scoff, feeling put on the spot. Soap pops up out of the bar, stumbling lightly until he spots the both of you.

“Hey LT, you and y/n taking a peek at Prices new ride to?” He says oblivious. You cross your arms, tempered. Ghost visibly looks at Soap confused. “No, I was just highlighting on how big of a dick someone’s being right now.” You slyly slip in, moving past the both of them. You stomp your way back to your room, still visioning Ghost’s eyes on you as you storm off.

As you get ready for bed you hear your door knock with ominous. You go to answer it, cooled down and clean with a warm shower, the steam flowing off of you. “Soap? What are you doing out of your quarters?” You asked, opening the door for him, casually looking at him as he sat on your bed, his eyes staring at you in a different light that you couldn’t see. For the moment he ignored that you were in just a towel. “Y/n what’s your deal with LT?” He questioned, his voice neutral and curious. You were taken aback by his sudden question, blinking. “What do you mean? Are you talking about the fact that he treats me like an insignificant child, or that he can’t stand to be around me without taunting me?” You clap back, crossing your arms, the remembrance of what happened just a few minutes ago, bubbling up irritation. Your ranting is broken by Soap’s sudden movement. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Y/n from what I hear you’ve been out of line.” He says, approaching you slowly. Before you could react with a sassy retort Ghost busts through the door, closing it behind him, focusing his pure attention on his small little lamb in front of him. Tonight, he had a mission.

As you get ready for bed you hear your door knock with ominous. You go to answer it, cooled down and clean with a warm shower, the steam flowing off of you.

“Soap? What are you doing out of your quarters?” You asked, opening the door for him, casually looking at him as he sat on your bed, his eyes staring at you in a different light that you couldn’t see. For the moment he ignored that you were in just a towel. “Y/n what’s your deal with LT?” He questioned, his voice neutral and curious. You were taken aback by his sudden question, blinking. “What do you mean? Are you talking about the fact that he treats me like an insignificant child, or that he can’t stand to be around me without taunting me?” You clap back, crossing your arms, the remembrance of what happened just a few minutes ago, bubbling up irritation. Your ranting is broken by Soap’s sudden movement. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Y/n from what I hear you’ve been out of line.” He says, approaching you slowly. Before you could react with a sassy retort Ghost busts through the door, closing it behind him, focusing his pure attention on his small little lamb in front of him. Tonight, he had a mission.

“Oh y/n, see me and Johnny had a little chat. You’re not easy to work with, but now. Now I know how to fix that.” Ghost says, the boys closing in on you as you back up into a wall, confused and nervous. You could feel your mind drifting, your body feeling warmer.

“W-What are you two up to? Is this some kind of pr-“before you could finish Soap smashed into your lip, guiding you out of your comforting wall. Ghost follows closely behind, groping your ass, smirking at you. “W-What the hell guys! S-stop this!” You shout, sitting up on the bed after Ghost pushes you down on it. They look at each other and laugh. Your mouth sits open, gritting your teeth, before you speak, your face gets met with a hardy slap, the laugh, watching as you react. “You’re not in control anymore, pet.” Soap expressed, watching Ghost lay you back down, straddling your waist. Soap goes beside you, unzipping his pants eagerly.

“I found a great solution to get you to behave love, figured what you need is a good dick to fuck you into submission.” Ghost gruffly smirked, pulling off your towel roughly. You started screaming empty threats, trying to cover yourself. Soap and Ghost’s hungry eyes trailed all around your body, Soap pinning your hands above you as he tapped his cock on your lips. You grunted, shoving your mouth away from his twitching member. Ghost tsk’d loudly, sending a surging slap to your face again, you could feel the burning warmth of the slap, looking at ghost with fiery eyes. “That ought to bruise nicely. Now baby, get to sucking.” Soap chastised, tapping his heavy cock on your lips, you muttered a curse under your breath before taking the giant meat into your mouth, stretching to adjust to his size.

Ghost laughed, shifting his pants from his dick as it got uncomfortable in his boxers. “I can tell you want the same treatment~ don’t worry, I can be fair doll.” Ghost implied, kissing down your body, taking at your nipples, watching you squirm and groan at the touch. “Don’t talk with your mouth full darlin’ you’ll choke.” Ghost said deeply, sending your stomach into flips. You moan at his gaze, while flipping your attention to soap, watching him moan and bob your head as he loosely shoved his cock further down.

Ghost continued his journey down your body, stopping at your crotch. He wasted no time in slurping at you, not waiting to dig his tongue deep onto you. You wriggled under his mouth, closing your eyes, with your body being ravened. “Our little bunny’s getting overwhelmed by getting eaten and being stuffed.” Soap concludes, pumping in your mouth faster. You moan loudly, vibrating his vigorous cock, causing it to twitch.

“Are you gonna cum?” Ghost questions, stopping his motions to look at you, your eyes hazy and hanging low, while your lower half is damn near demolished in your own slick. “Naughty, I didn’t say you could cum yet.” Ghost monologues, you shift your hips, trying to tempt him back to permitting you his service. “They might not cum, but I’m about to-“ Soap interrupts, spraying his cum inside your mouth. You choke on his squirting cock, feeling your mouth get stuffed with his hot semen. Soap slowly pulls out his cock, tapping his overstimulated tip on your nose to open your mouth. “Open wide for me.” Soap demands, grabbing your face with minor force.

You still had a fiery glint in your eyes, still heating with lust. Soap raises his hand, scaling over you as a threat. You reluctantly open your mouth, displaying the load that he’d packed into your mouth. “Good..now I think you know what I want you to do darlin.” Soap slaps your chin, closing your mouth again, staring at you until he sees your throat bob, taking his cum down like a shot. Ghost watches intently, occasionally petting your bits. You swallow instinctively, pulling your attention to Ghost who smiled, his mask nearly off, yet you couldn’t depict him. “Beg me to cum. Beg for it.” Ghost smiled, playing with you, arising a heated moan from you. You shook your head, your glow of defiance, ever present. “Drop dead.” You explain, still embarrassingly wriggling to create some movement. 

Ghost grunts, a scowl forming on his face. Soap chuckles along. “Uh oh. A little worldly advice, if you want to make it out of here in one piece, I’d beg.” You scoffed at his passive threat, watching Ghost closely and unsure. Ghost came to where Soap was, exchanging a single glance at each other before bluntly shoving his cock inside your mouth. Your eyes grew big, your mouth suddenly intruded. Your muffled protest were received with a hard laugh from the boys, Soap following behind ghost in action, rubbing his bare cock on your hole.

Your eyes trained on Soap's watching as he cooed his lips, clicking his tongue at your expression. "W-wait!-" Before you could even gurgle the sentence, Soap shoved into you with force, the instant clenching around him making him wriggle deeper into you. You arched our back, tears foaming into your eyes. Ghost tsk'd, his gaze never leaving your pearly eyes, glossed with pleasure and minor pain.

"Should've just been a good pet and begged." Ghost grunted, matching Soap's thrusting pattern. Soap chuckles, slapping his balls harder against your ass, his hands finding your chest, leaning on them for stability as he lifts your leg up, finding a better position to rock his cock inside you. You roll your eyes back, moaning into Ghost girthy cock, feeling each vein that twitched harder with each thrust through your pretty mouth. Overstuffed in both holes, you feel yourself drawing closer. You rock your hips as Soap starts pounding you harder, Ghost going along and full-on grabbing your head and bobbing you, thrashing your throat.

As you saw white small clouds you hear a sudden 'pop' from your lower half, feeling the rush of cold air instead of a full, steamed cock plowing you. Ghost smirks, pulling out of your mouth, his cock dribbled in precum and your precious spit.

"You missed your chance to cum before, best not to repeat love." Ghost grunted, slapping his moist cock on your cheek, your lips quivered with the hefty decision. You felt your face heat from sexual frustration and the need to release the tension that was inches away from exploding. "Go on, beg little one. Unless you want this to keep going...edging you each time, pulling out of you and watching your mind fight itself on an easy problem." Soap pestered, leaning into your face, licking up your cheek, meeting your eyes. He softly kisses your lips, Ghost gripping your breast, coming up the other side of your face, peppering it in hot kisses. You felt him leave massive hickeys on your neck, licking it after he'd tortured that part of your neck.

"F-fine! P-please..." You mumble. The boys shared a glance at each other, not satisfied. "What?! I begged, n-now keep going!" You demanded, rubbing your hips into their crotch, pacing your head back and forth from them.

"That's not good enough, and you know it love. Tell us what you want. Say it so me and Soap can fuck you stupid." Ghost inquired, whispering in your ear, gripping your chin, protruding your lips to mimic you. "Say it with those pretty, slutty lips." Soap adds, slapping your chest.

"God please! Please stick your cock inside my holes! Stuff me full of your warm cum!" You shout, humping your hips into Soap's twitching cock. Ghost smiles darkly, instantly kissing your lips before burring his cock back where it belongs, inside your mouth. Ghost groans upon reentering. His hot flesh meeting your acute mouth. Soap leads close behind, backing his rock-hard dick inside you. He seethes at your hole inviting him in, begging for him to pound you harder.

"Just like that~ Your so good y/n, takin' us so well." Soap says, rubbing your stomach as he pounds harder. You grip onto the sheets under you, feeling the current of the thrusting from both of the men, feeling yourself feeling drunk on cock. You sucked and prodded at Ghost member, hearing him moan over you. Soap grips your hips, slamming into your hips lustfully, like a dog in heat.

"Oh shit- I-I'm gonna cum! What do you say LT? Should we fill this brat up?" Soap banters, grunting in between. Ghost groans, rolling his head. He doesn't respond, only grunting in approval.

"Cum. Cum you little slut!" Ghost demanded, giving his final shove before unloading his cock full of warm milk inside your mouth, Soap peering behind, shoving his cock deep inside you, unleashing his sticky load. You arched your back, the feeling of both of their cum dripping down your stuffed holes driving you over the edge and sending you into a much-needed climax. You held your mouth open, showing Ghost his mess in your mouth, your eyes peeled to his reaction. You swallowed, cum drunk.

"Good fucking pet." Ghost soothed, kissing your lips, tasting himself and the mixing flavors of you on his tongue. The rushing feeling traveling through your head, and down your shaking legs. Ghost walks around the bed, grabbing water. Soap lifts you up, peppering your sweat, fucked out face in kisses. When Ghost came back, he gave you the water, Soap sitting up and taking out a cigarette.

"Hey! how come it's ok for him to smoke?!" You shouted, Soap continuing as he lit his stick. "Cause I'm not into Johnny." Ghost grumbled, caressing your cheek. You stared at him, lightly fuming. "Ouch LT, guess I shouldn't confess." Soap laughs, slipping his pants and military shirt on before getting up. Ghost grunts toward Soap, not verbally thanking him. Soap sighs content. "Glad I could help LT. See ya' tomorrow Y/n." Soap says, closing the door behind him.

Ghost slides into bed, clutching you and dragging you to him, his boxer fabric rubbing against you, his limb dick, pricking your ass. "Never knew you could be so docile and submissive when you beg." Ghost smugly complimented. You jabbed him in the abdomen, hearing him let out a dry laugh. "Just don't fucking do it again!" You pouted lightly, nuzzling into the big rock.

"We'll see love."

{------------------------}

AN:) I wanted to just thank you all for getting me this far and I promise I'll have a better follower special when we reach that milestone! <3!

[scxttershot]

— character info sheet.

(repost, don’t reblog)

name: Floyd Lawton.

name meaning: Floyd, meaning "gray or gray-haired". There's many ways we could interpret the word "gray"; Floyd's life has been a series of miseries, so I'd argue it's indeed quite dismal! Lawton, derived from Old English and roughly meaning "old farmstead estate".

alias/es: Deadshot. Keep it simple, Floyd.

ethnicity: Presumably at least part English, at least in that way that a lot of Americans have English ancestry but have no real connection to the country. Headcanon-wise, he is the usual generic White American Admixture + Tongan on his mother's side. Passing for white is conditional, as always, and he gets pretty dark when he tans.

one picture / icon you like best of your character:

three h/cs you never told anyone:

Floyd can sing! I personally headcanon him to sound a bit like Justin Furstenfield of the band Blue October; smoky, raspy, haunted voice full of all the agonies he'll never say.

Managed to kill a target with only a NERF gun once. I refuse to elaborate, because it's a lot funnier if I don't.

After years of hanging out with the Six, Floyd doesn't actually give a shit about what pronouns you call him. He'll respond consistently to "Floyd" and that's all anyone needs to know about him. Still goes by He/Him but literally just does not care to correct people if or when they assume otherwise.

three things your character likes doing in their free time: 

Smoking, obviously.

Have mentioned he's into whittling; he'll whittle just about anything cleavable enough if left alone with it, including bars of soap and candles.

Oddly enough, playing Angry Birds. [just a personal headcanon] Zoe got him into it.

eight people your character likes / loves:

I feel like I'd be cheating if I listed the entire Secret Six but I will mention them regardless [sobs in I have never seen a decent Catman RPer]

His daughters, Zoe and Suchin.

Owen Mercer. @playedbetter it's partly a fondness because Floyd knows his father extremely well.

Mary! @babydxhl Smoke buddies.

@ people: yeah IDK interact with me more?? Shrug. My problem is mostly that he doesn't really know people.

two things your character regrets:

Killing his brother, Edward, on accident. This is just canon.

[headcanon] letting his mother take advantage of him sexually. We love survivor's guilt here at scattershot.com!

one phobia your character has:

Does seeing himself nude count? Floyd basically goes into autopilot when showering, having sex, etc. He will literally never get over this also.

Tagged by: I stole this lmfaooo Tagging: @minodalus , @cxpperhead , @playedbetter specifically for Lori, @telekinctic , IDK will think of more people later it's 1 AM and I am Neil banging out the tunes

[pablopascal]

Dusk till Dawn

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader word count: 1.0k warnings: death, apocalypse au, needles, fluff, angst A/N: I wrote this a long time ago and it might me shitty and not make any sense. I hope you enjoy reading it though. I might write another part when I'm not busy. please reblog, comment, like much appreciated!! italics: always are flashbacks, conversations, letters *DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE*

-

It felt as if I was in a dark room for years. At one point, I heard something click, and crunches of shoes. Then I felt someone kiss my forehead and mumble something inaudible. After a few moments, I heard a click, then silence.

After a few moments, I heard a click, then silence It seemed like years since that moment. I assumed that I was somewhere lying down. I didn't know what time, day , week, month, nor the year. I was somewhere out of place ,and I was alone.

Suddenly there was a blurry bright light that appeared in my vision. My vision cleared up, and I saw hospital room. After seeing that I was at a hospital. I looked everywhere for a call light button but I couldn't find one.

But I saw a envelope next to me on a small chair beside my bed. Trying to figure out how to get out bed without messing up my IV.

After a few minutes, I decided to just take it out so I carefully did. I sat up trying to regain the feeling in my legs. I eventually got up slowly walking to grab the envelope.

As I got to the chair my legs felt like jello. So, I hurriedly grabbed the envelope and sat in the chair. I took a deep breath and opened the envelope and started reading it.

-

I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you wake up. I love you dearly. You have been in coma for many years with protection. I know that you don't want this burden on your shoulders. But you have to save the world, and you will have someone to help. There should be a bag with clothes and a old flip phone with one number.

I love you. Be safe.

Mom

-

I got up and slowly walked around looking for a bag. After looking under, in, and inside; I opened the door to the small bathroom that had a shower, a sink, and a toilet. I patted the walls for secret compartments.

I then walk to the the back of the toilet and opened it seeing two plastic bags. One had a backpack and the other had clothes. I check to see if the water was working and it was. So decided to wash off the dirt gathering for years.

There was already a bar of soap and a towel on the racks in here. I turned the water on but it was freezing cold and it wouldn't get warmer.

So went under the cold water, and grabbed the soap and lathered it as much as I could to wash my hair. I was almost done with washing my body with a gush of memories hit me.

-

It was James and me and we were in the shower hugging each other. I had just got the news that I was chosen for the super-soldier surgery. James came to my room to talk but he saw me crying. He consoled me and held me, but eventually it ended with us having sex. Then slowly moving to the shower where we just held each other. -

I gasped back into reality, but I wanted to go back to that moment of happiness. I sighed knowing i would never get that moment back. I slowly got out of the shower grabbing the towel to dry my body.

I grabbed the plastic bag with clothes. I opened it up to see a black pair of jeans, a grey t-shirt, panties, a sports bra, socks, and my old combat boots.

I put on the clothes piece by piece. After awhile I was sitting on the toilet rummaging through the backpack. So far I've got needed feminine products and a few extra panties, bras, shirts, and jeans.

Finally, of the minutes of rummaging through I found the cellphone. I went to the contacts on the phone and saw the name James.

It felt as if my heart dropped to my stomach. I was hesitant to click call, but maybe it was a different James.

In my heart I did want it to be him, but why would he wait. He probably found someone better and was probably happier. He's can't be here waiting. I clicked dial and the familiar sound of clicking when someone answers.

" I'm awake. I don't know where to go. Is this you James? Bucky? please, answer." I said with stuttering and voice of sadness .

"Yes. It's me. Y/n, I want you to walk to the stairs till you reach the first floor." He replied.

I let out deep breath and asked " what year is it?"

"It's 2045. You grab everything from the room your in and come to me. Okay?" He said to me.

"Okay. I'm coming. Are you the only one there?" I asked.

"Yes. Now hurry you have to save the world." He said teasingly, but truthfully.

I hurried at packing all I needed or thought I needed into my backpack. The last thing I grabbed was a necklace by my hospital bed. I remember that it was the one my mother had given me for my birthday.

I unhooked it and put it on. Then I grabbed the backpack full of things. I walked around the floor I was on looking for the stair well. Soon I found it opening it up and looked at the number 400. I'm on the fourth floor.

I started my journey down the stairs. I slowly walked as I got closer to the first floor. Do I want to see him I questioned myself as I got to the second floor. Of course I do, I miss him so much.

I was talking to myself so much that I had reached the first floor without barely noticing. I grabbed the door handle and stared awhile at it. I started to slowly open it as if I was going into a danger zone.

As I fully looked up I saw the familiar icy blue eyes of James. I stared for I don't now how long before I spoke.

"James..."

-

[fragileizywriting]

marinette wakes up in a lavish bedroom, with grey sheets and giant windows, smelling like clothes that aren't hers.

recollection of the previous night comes to her in patchworks, and she stitches the hours together as she slowly pulls herself out of bed. the sheets are nice. warm. how many weeks has it been since she hasn't woken up shivering from the cold, because she can't afford a heater in her apartment? not only that, but a plush carpet rug finds her naked feet; a trip to the attached bathroom brings no answers to any budding questions.

adrien's place.

why?

nothing.

how?

no recollection.

there is nothing, not even when she stares at herself in the mirror, or rifles through the drawers to find a brush. why is she here? no particular answer shouts back at her. why did she say yes? she can't really imagine why.

there's a brand-new toothbrush still in it plastic package, right on the sink along with a bar of soap and two towels— she'd give taking a shower a try, but one look into that massive walk-in has her thinking otherwise. there's no way she'll figure out all the knobs for it in time to make a quick shower. why is it so complicated?

instead, she brushes her hair with one that isn't hers, and quickly ties her hair back into a braid. she washes her face. there's no face soap. she brushes her teeth with a toothpaste she's never heard of, a weird sensation when it foams up in her mouth. when she's finally done, she braves the exit, searching for her clothes that are nowhere to be found.

at the very least, some shoes would be nice.

but the bare feet gives her an advantage to walk around without being heard. she's a natural tip-toer, given her miraculous, so while she doesn't expect to spook anyone, she's not going to go out of her way to announce her presence.

there he is.

she catches adrien staring at his tv, standing in the middle of his living room, pensive at what he sees. those thick brows of his pinch in the middle, turning his handsome, aged face into something that looks similar to frustration. who blames him? last night had been...

hard.

the news highlights the grave error she'd made the night before, assuming that the akuma had been a sentimonster and had attempted to cataclysm it. instead of disappearing into ash like sentimonsters do, the akuma had become poisoned; a cataclysmed akuma is a far deadlier one.

and they'd failed to catch it. all because of her.

on the couch just behind him, another man, one with dark hair and bright eyes, just about his age. the two of them are so focused on the tv that marinette almost feels the urge to walk into the kitchen and find a solution— after all, she can't just pretend to be asleep forever— but with plagg nowhere nearby, she can't just slip out of one of the giant windows she woke up to.

"how'd you sleep, kitty?" adrien asks, finally looking over.

he knew she was there…?

she spooks, instinctually backing up against the wall that connects the hallway to the rooms. "oh. you knew i was here?" adrien does nothing but stare as she stands there, glancing over to the man on the couch. he looks just as surprised as she is to see her, evident by his clipped brow angling upwards, the piercings on his lip moving when he chews on his cheek. she gives in, murmuring out a shy: "uhm. i slept okay."

lady noire, stuttering around her words…

adrien’s eyes are starlight, rich with intrigue and infatuation when they make eyecontact.

"i didn’t know you had company. is that why i caught you sleeping on the couch?" the man on said couch asks.

"you slept on the couch?" marinette blurts out in horror. "why did you—"

"you were tired," adrien says simply, turning back to the tv. an end to the discussion.

she pulls on the pajama shirt that covers her thighs, trying to feel more at-ease. try as he might, but marinette refuses to finish a conversation on someone else’s terms. "oh. but— i could've just slept on the couch."

"you're too tired for that."

a bit of spunk comes back to her, probably because she doesn't like being talked down upon. "you don't fit on the couch."

"i can make sacrifices when it comes to you." and adrien punctuates the sentences with a sense of finality, like he's refusing to argue, even though she knows a man of his stature shouldn't be curled up on a couch for the night. even though the thing is massive— she would know, having spent last night gasping into his shoulder as he pressed her into the cushions and swirled his thumb against her clit— it doesn't seem like it would be comfortable.

either way, adrien says nothing, reveals nothing, staring at the tv for answers. shame bleeds down her neck, goosebumps prickling at her skin and pebbling her nipples from underneath her shirt. only a haphazard self-hug can hide it.

the nameless man is not impressed, ignorant to how she hides, because he’s staring at adrien’s back. "who's the girl?"

"kitty," adrien says, still not looking to either of them, replaying the scenes from the news channel, showing last night's fight and trying to get a read on the akuma. he rewinds the footage with his remote, and the living room goes silent without the audio feed. "the man on the couch is viperion. his real name is luka."

her head snaps in his direction, braid slipping over her shoulder. "w...what?"

"luka," adrien continues, not at all paying attention to how the two of them look at each other in horror. "this is marinette. 'kitty'. she's lady noire."

[jodilinbio]

The night I panicked, I practically fell against the chain-link fence surrounding the desk where Officer Rule sat. Something must have wanted me to live that night, because I’d thrown myself at the right DO. Anyone else might not have given a damn.

“I’m going to kill myself or do something very stupid if I don’t get the hell out of here! I can’t take this anymore! I can’t!” I wailed, hysterically.

Without a word, Rule reached for the phone, dialed Medical, and told them what I’d said. Then she stood up and motioned for me to follow her. She led me to Medical, where I poured my entire sob story out to an older nurse.

“I can’t work because I just can’t sleep in that zoo. It’s like trying to sleep in the middle of a circus! Besides, I have a problem with working for free and an even bigger one when it’s for the very system that screwed me over.”

“Then you’ll be locked down and on restriction,” the nurse said dubiously.

“So be it then. I have no choice. I simply can’t do what I can’t do, and I can’t work without sleep. Plus I’m gagging on cigarette smoke. You know they smuggle that shit in there all the time, and you know I’m asthmatic.”

Though it seemed rather ridiculous, I signed an agreement promising not to hurt myself. I mean, what were they going to do if I actually killed myself? Charge my corpse with suicide? Then again, I wouldn’t put it past that state to try such a thing!

“Officer Armstrong is here to take you to A Tower,” the nurse told me on my way out.

Then Rule told me to wait a minute while she pulled Armstrong aside in the hallway. I couldn’t hear what they said, but by the way Armstrong glanced at me a few times, I assumed they were talking about me. When they finished, Armstrong went in the opposite direction, and Rule turned toward me. In a conspiratorial tone, she informed me there was another option.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Ad-Seg.”

“Ad-Seg?”

“Administrative Segregation. It’s like protective custody. You’ll still be locked down twenty-three hours a day, but this way, you’ll only have up to two cellmates, and you’ll be able to keep your privileges like visitation and commissary rights.”

“Oh, that’d be nice. I’d hate to not be able to see my husband over this.”

“We’ll have you fill out a form, but you have to be very careful about how you word it. You have to tell them you fear for your safety. Use the smoking to your advantage. Tell them you snitched because of your asthma.”

We returned to the tents, where I filled out the Ad-Seg form. Then she took me back to my tent to retrieve my few precious belongings before escorting me to A Tower.

A Tower held one hundred and thirty inmates. There were four pods surrounding the tower. Two of the pods were general population, one housed the chain gang, and the other was for both desegregation and Ad-Seg inmates because both were only allowed out of their cells for one hour a day.

Each pod had fifteen cells. The pod I was in was the only one with an extra set of bunk beds in its cells. They put up to three people in these cells. The cells were about eight by twelve, with nothing more than a small metal table bolted to the wall, a small metal stool bolted to the floor, and a toilet. The back wall had a narrow strip of a window near the ceiling.

In the dayroom, there were tables, two shower stalls, and some payphones. A camera sat high on the wall, aimed at the main section of the room.

Although the DOs walked through each pod every fifteen minutes, inmates got most of the things they needed, like soap and toilet paper, through the trustees on their hour out.

A Tower had plenty of mice, and I’d drop little pieces of bread for them late at night. Tom found it kind of funny when I told him that a mouse once ate a corner of a candy bar I had stashed at the head of my bunk. I had just been about to nod off to sleep when I heard papers rustling by my head. I fumbled through my stuff but never did see the mouse responsible. The next day, I discovered the nibbled candy. I simply broke off where the mouse had chewed, then split the rest with my celly.

M Dorm, where I spent most of my sentence, was much smaller, cleaner, and quieter. No mice there, unfortunately, since I loved the little cuties. M Dorm had an open area for drug offenders that held about thirty inmates, much smaller than the other dorms. The dorm also had two identical pods. One was for juveniles, the other for Ad-Seg. These pods only had five windowless cells. Two held four people, and three held two. I hated the big cells—not just because of the extra cellmates, but because of how exposed I felt in them. Bars were a thing of the past. Everything was now concrete, steel, and tempered glass. The big cells had glass doors and two glass windows, making me feel like I was in a giant display case with no privacy whatsoever. Being in a big cell also meant having to use the toilet in front of more people. The toilet could be seen perfectly from the tower. The small cells had just two strips of glass in their doors. All cells had metal desks with shelves and movable chairs on hinges.

The dorm, commonly referred to as “the princess dorm,” also had a dayroom in its pods with tables, payphones, and a shower room, though the pods were much smaller.

While I was in A Tower, I met with a therapist a few times. Her name was Kara. She was very supportive and encouraging, though like the others, she couldn’t do much to help me.

Somehow, I managed to sleep through most of the noise and commotion around me, though not very well. My usual sleeping hours were from around 2 a.m. to 10 a.m., but not without many interruptions in between. I usually slept in spurts and spent a lot of time being tired. Eventually, it caused me to catch my first cold in four years, another thing I could thank my abusers for. Breakfast came as early as 5 a.m., and then other things would wake me throughout the morning—uniform exchange, sheet exchange, underwear and towel exchange, hour outs, etc. Some cellies were harder to sleep with than others. Those who were up when I was asleep and weren’t very quiet or considerate made it harder to sleep.

When you’re told to “roll up,” it means you’re to gather your things to be moved to wherever they’re going to put you. One of the hardest things about being in jail was all the moving around they made us do. Just when I’d get comfortable with one celly (or two), I’d be moved to a new cell with new cellies. On top of missing Tom and home, being forced to interact with people constantly was the hardest thing. Having to interact with coworkers was one thing, but living with strangers was another. I felt so smothered, and not having any space or privacy sucked, even though I spent about two out of the six months I was there alone.

Another thing that was hard was having to use the toilet in front of others, and how so many of my cellmates would constantly beg for things. When it got out of hand, I wouldn’t hesitate to remind them they weren’t my responsibility. Although most of the inmates were just regular people like anyone else, there were also a lot of crazies in there. Sometimes, I felt more like I was in a mental hospital than a jail.

The showers were usually either ice cold or scalding hot.

During my hour out, I’d usually shower, sweep and mop my cell, get pencils sharpened, stock up on soap and other essentials, and call Tom, depending on the time of day. He was working day shifts at the time, so I couldn’t call him during the weekdays.

Since I was in Ad-Seg, I had closed-contact visits with Tom twice a week for half an hour to an hour, depending on how much time he signed up for. We had a total of an hour and a half each week. We sat in little rooms, not much bigger than phone booths, with a bulletproof window between us. It was hard not being able to hug him.

Helen, the therapist I had started seeing before my sentencing, stuck by me throughout everything. She sent cards and letters, even visiting me once. I received a few letters from Paula and a Chanukah card from Tom’s mom and sister. I wrote to them once or twice a month.

Luckily, I wasn’t on any life-saving medication, because if I had been, I’d be dead for sure. It took two weeks just to see a doctor. I was still using inhalers at the time and needed them for three to four years after quitting smoking. Sometimes, I’d get my inhalers on time, but more often, I had to fight for them.

We could request items through “tank” orders, medical tanks, and grievances. Tank orders were for things like library books, legal information, or Bibles. Medical tanks were for medical and psychological requests. Grievances, though, were mostly a waste of time. While inmates had the right to complain about the living conditions or the conduct of the DOs, a sergeant would always back the DOs. You could say a DO slapped you, threatened to kill you, or harassed you in any way, but they’d stand by them. Only after numerous complaints from multiple sources would anything possibly be done.

About a month into my sentence, I found out I was eligible for work furlough. I declined for several reasons. First, I didn’t have a job to go to in the city. Second, any money made went to the jail, and there was no way I was going to work for them. Third, I could barely sleep inside the jail, let alone in the tents, and I was too run down to work. Lastly, I knew it’d be too tempting to run if I was let out, and honestly, I would’ve done just that.

As I sat on my bunk, somewhere in the middle of my sentence, I thought back to the day I was sentenced. It felt like an eternity ago, as each month in jail seemed to drag on and be double in time.

Ratsy had died two days before my sentencing. He was two and a half years old, old for a rat. Our only remaining rat was Houdini, and rats need companionship. Rats loved to play together, just like kittens. So, the plan had been to stop and get a new rat and mouse on our way home from court, even though I had a bad feeling that day. But instead of going home with new pets, Tom went home with an empty passenger seat and two empty cages, thanks to the twisted events that followed.

Four months into my sentence, Tomasewski came to tell me that The Arizona Republic wanted to do an interview with me, but I quickly declined. I wasn’t about to be made a fool of again. They could say whatever they wanted about me. They could even call me a mass murderer, and I wouldn’t care, but I wasn’t going to assist them in making a spectacle out of me.

Tom regularly sent letters and pictures of himself and the animals. I avoided looking at them too much because they only made me break down in tears.

One day, I found myself wondering how Kim and Bob were doing. I hadn’t talked to them since we left Phoenix. I also wondered if any of my jailhouse experiences were similar to Bob’s time in prison.

I thought about Andy and how he once suggested I write novels in addition to journals.

“But what would I write about?” I had asked.

“I don’t know. A mystery, a romance, whatever. Maybe even a lesbian love story.”

So, we talked about me writing a story about a woman who gets framed and thrown into jail or prison, only to fall for a female guard who returns her feelings. At the time, I had no idea that the fantasy we concocted and that I put into print was about to become a reality. I never would’ve believed it if someone had told me this would happen!

My first cellmate was a 21-year-old named Kim, a proud member of the Aryan Brotherhood. However, she didn’t have an issue with Jews because she saw Judaism as a religion, not a race. Despite prioritizing drugs and gun-running over her own kids, Kim was surprisingly smart for someone her age.

When Kim told me most of the inmates were bisexual, I thought she was exaggerating. But as it turned out, all but a few of the 25 cellmates I had celled with had been with women at least once in their lives.

“Not bad for a hate symbol,” Kim once joked while I jogged in place.

I glanced at the Nazi symbol tattooed on her middle toe and said, “I wish I had my little mister to cool me down.”

“Oh, those misters are amazing! Definitely a gift from God, don’t you think?” she replied.

“Actually, mine was a gift from my husband,” I said with a grin.

About a week later, 24-year-old Jessica, who was naïve and a bit flaky, joined us. She’d ended up in jail for leaving her one-year-old son in a shopping cart at a grocery store. She and Kim eventually got into a fight, and Jessica was moved out.

“Has the fact that it was Black people who put you here changed how you feel about them?” Kim asked me one day.

Had it? Did this whole ordeal make me racist? I thought about it for a moment and replied, “Well, what they did certainly didn’t help. What they did is not a good way to get people to like and accept you. But I also know there’s good and bad in every group. It’s just going to take some time for my mind to focus on the logical side of things and not the angry side.”

And it would indeed be a while, and to be honest, I don’t think I could ever forgive those involved in jailing me, including the very white DA and judge. Even if I’d been totally guilty, no one deserves such a ludicrous sentence.

I constantly tried to remind myself that everyone deserved the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn’t want to be blamed or automatically hated for something another Jew or white person did. But being “fair” proved difficult at times, and I couldn’t help but worry about other Black people deciding to hate me for some reason and then crying racism against me, especially in a state and time when it was all too easy to do so. It was unsettling to know they would almost certainly be believed no matter what I said. Still, I hoped that the tactics being used then wouldn’t work forever, and eventually, the race card would lose its power as it became overused.

Next came 35-year-old “Agent Tara,” who claimed she had worked for the FBI since she was a baby, after being created in a laboratory. She said she knew the government killed her children when her breasts suddenly appeared smaller. That was before they stole her ovaries to make pies with.

This is what drugs did to her mind. Any questions?

In just a few days, the “agent” was gone, replaced by 40-year-old Bible-thumping Gretchen. She was in for drugs, and her way of coping with jail was to recite 400 Hail Marys three times a day, even when I was trying to sleep.

Although Gretchen was half-Black, Kim tolerated her until she was moved.

Then came 31-year-old loudmouth Lora, also in for drugs. According to her, she was once a CO in a prison, and that’s why she was in Ad-Seg.

Kim and Lora were moved to M Dorm one night, leaving me alone for a day or two until I was moved there too. Kim and I had been there once before, in a small cell, but we were sent back to A Tower when a closed-custody hermaphrodite named Alex needed our cell.

This was when I got my first taste of how miserable it was to be in a big cell. Besides dealing with Lora again, I was now with 21-year-old pregnant Madoline and 34-year-old Deanna, both in for drugs.

Although Madoline could be just as obnoxious as Lora, I preferred her. We even developed a little evening ritual where we’d argue in a fun and playful way.

Deanna snored worse than my husband and mother combined, but for some reason, it didn’t bother me, even though it drove everyone else crazy. I guess it was the consistency of the sound that helped; it was the unexpected noises that usually bothered me when I was trying to sleep.

On the morning of my 35th birthday, Deanna and I staged a fight to get me out of there, knowing how much I hated big cells. At first, I thought she was genuinely mad at me for yelling at her earlier about some annoying moaning sounds she was making, but then I realized it was all part of the plan.

A month and a half later, Deanna and I ended up as cellmates again in a two-man cell, but it didn’t work out. She wouldn’t sit still when I needed to sleep. We tried staging another fight, but the DO on duty wasn’t stupid. Fortunately, we managed to get separated after a few days. I wasn’t happy with her either, as she, like so many others, used race as an excuse to get us separated when it wasn’t the issue. Our incompatibility was the problem.

Once I was in a small cell by myself, my craziest cellmate yet joined me—33-year-old schizophrenic Melinda, in for drug and littering charges. She was not only delusional but also the loudest, most hyperactive person I had encountered. She’d climb around the cell like a monkey, tear up magazines, and yell out the door. I could only sleep when she was asleep.

After warning a DO about what I might do to her if one of us wasn’t moved, I was sent to Alex’s cell while Melinda was in court and Alex was in D2, the psych ward.

Then Alex returned. Not wanting to go back to the psycho, I was thrown into a four-man cell again. A week later, Deanna and I staged another fight to get me out, and I ended up back in A Tower because no other beds were available in that dorm.

For about a week, I was alone in A Tower, then I was moved in with 43-year-old Tina, who was also in for the usual thing…drugs. If it wasn’t that it was prostitution. Tina and I argued a lot but eventually got along. She just drove me crazy at times with her constant chatter!

A few days later, 21-year-old Rosa joined us. She became my favorite cellmate. Rosa didn’t speak English, so I was grateful that I spoke Spanish, and Rosa appreciated it too. I’d often translate for Tina.

I was shocked when I saw Rosa’s papers, which stated she was in for child abuse and second-degree murder. I thought, This girl? A baby killer? My gut told me she was innocent, just as much as Myra over in M Dorm was guilty of child abuse and molestation.

Rosa told me that her 1-year-old daughter died after falling and hitting her head while she had left the bathroom for a moment. Her husband, who visited her regularly, wasn’t charged with anything. She had also recently found out she was pregnant with her second child.

In Spanish, I told Rosa not to show anyone her papers. Meanwhile, she took my mind off my situation, making the days pass faster. She was cheerful and easy-going and would console me with a hug when I felt homesick. We’d even play jokes on Tina while she slept, doing silly things like pretending to blow our noses into toilet tissue and then putting it in her open mouth while she snored. We’d try hard not to laugh loud enough to wake her.

After a couple of weeks, I was moved from Rosa and Tina into a cell with 42-year-old Ruby, who was in for drugs. Supposedly, I was placed there to “babysit” her because she was epileptic. At the time, I had no idea that Officer Palma, the hot DO who moved me, was attracted to me (though I didn’t always care for her personality), and that she was jealous of my friendship with Rosa.

Although Ruby didn’t believe much in showers and therefore didn’t smell great, she was an okay cellmate. She slept a lot, and when she was awake, she loved to chat.

A few days later, I was moved again, this time in with 39-year-old Carolyn Peterson and 43-year-old Marian, both in for drugs. Monday was also in for prostitution.

I didn’t enjoy my week with them. They’d chat while I was trying to sleep, and Carolyn wouldn’t stop talking about God when I was awake. This drove me nuts.

“If God’s so wonderful, why is the world in shambles?” I asked her one day. “Little kids are kidnapped, raped, and murdered. How can we call that ‘God’s will’ and still worship Him? It just doesn’t make sense to me. How can we say God has justified reasons for letting such things happen? You say He doesn’t want bad people in His “house”—well, I’d be more than happy to stay out of His house if He’d have let me stay in mine.”

On New Year’s Day, I was moved to M Dorm for the last time. That was the day I met Mary. As soon as we met, I knew we’d be friends after getting out, though she was still inside at the time of this writing. We write regularly, and I’ve helped her with her book by typing up some drafts. She was the one who informed me that “Teddy Bear” was transferred to Madison St. jail six months after my release for flirting with too many inmates.

Mary didn’t seem like a typical inmate. She was slim, pretty, and always wore a friendly smile. The 23-year-old brunette had the ends of her hair dyed bright red, and it looked great on her.

We were very compatible as cellmates. Both of us were night owls, and we had a lot of good talks, laughs, and even tears as we poured our hearts out to each other.

I felt bad for her. She didn’t deserve to be in jail any more than I did, though for a very different reason. Her ex killed her one-year-old daughter, but she was charged with neglect. I suppose they felt she should have left him before it happened, and I know she regrets not doing so.

After nine days of being cellmates, one of my least favorite DOs swapped her with Deanna because of a fight in the big cell next door. Neither Mary nor I was happy about it.

[sweetmusingss]

I hid a small yawn as I shook my head at you. “I never said that I was normal, babe. I am just fine and you don’t need to worry so much about me,” I say to you, leaning forward and pecking your lips gently. I come up behind you, wrapping my arms around your waist from behind and pressing my bare breasts up against your back to distract you. “You are very bossy, you know that? You’re not even my boss anymore but yet, you still find a way to try and boss me around,” I say, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Haven’t you realized by now that I am stubborn and don’t like to listen?,” I ask you when meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Do you usually shower before work? I can make you some breakfast or coffee if you have the time,” I say, secretly loving getting to share the morning with you and be domestic with you.

“You tell me not to worry about you but I know that if the situation was reversed, you’d be upset that I was awake because I need to rest.” He rolls his eyes playfully, knowing you held such a double standard to his well being and your own. He sighs as he feels you press up against him, his resolve starting to crumble, loving the feeling of your bare body against his like that. “You like it. You like when I’m bossy. You are stubborn and it’s infuriating.” He nods as you ask if he usually showers, “Yeah, if you don’t mind I’d love to hop in and use your fruity girly scents and smell like cotton candy all day.” He made sure to tell you that he was absolutely fine with using your soaps, assuming your ex hated them and he wanted you to know that he wasn’t like him. He wasn’t going to make you feel bad or weird about your personal choices.

__

Emma couldn’t help but let out another whimper when feeling your nails dig into her skin. It had been so long since she had been touched and had felt desired. She knew she was lonely but she had no idea just how lonely that she was until she kissed you. She didn’t even like you but yet it felt so good to have your attention on her like this. She continued to kiss you hungrily and passionately, her hands sliding down to your ass. She just kept her hands resting there as she made out with you before finally pulling back from the kiss, knowing that Regina was going to call her soon if she didn’t hurry up with the food. She looks back at you with a dark gaze, her cheeks flushed and her lips pinker than usual. “I will meet you inside in just a minute,” she said, needing to regain her composure and not wanting people to see the two of you walking in together. She was being so formal with you though like she didn’t just have her tongue down your throat, her brain a jumbled mess.

I pushed my bum back against her hands, not able to believe that she was touching me like this and not pushing me away. I thought that my hands on her skin would’ve sent her running for the hills but she just moaned at the contact, my entire body feeling like it was set on fire. I look up at her with unfocused eyes as she pulls away, nodding when she says she’d meet me inside, straightening out my uniform with clumsy hands. “O-Okay…” I look up at her, biting my lip before leaning up and pressing my lips to hers again quickly before taking a step away. I give her a longing glance before walking back into the diner, feeling like I was wearing a ‘I just made out with the sheriff’ sign around my neck, feeling that it was so obvious as I walk back behind the bar and grab Emma’s food, thankful that it was hot. I could still taste her chapstick and smell her shampoo, her perfume being on my clothes now since we spent so much time pressed against one another, feeling like every nerve ending in my body was electrified from our make out. 

[survey--s]

534.

Do you prefer bar or liquid soap? Liquid, for sure. I hate the feeling/texture of bar soap.

What's the speed limit on your street? 20mph, but it’s normally impossible to even go that fast.

When was the last time you wore your favourite article of clothing? Yesterday.

Do any of your family members have an upcoming birthday? Yeah, my dad’s birthday is in about ten days.

On a scale of 1-5, 5 being the best, rate your last kiss. A three, maybe?

What is your favourite flavour of Jolly Ranchers? I’ve never had those.

Where was your Facebook profile picture taken? At home.

Do your parents smoke? Neither of them do.

Would you rather bake cookies or a potato? Cookies.

Who was the last person to stay the night at your house? Nobody ever sleeps over here.

Do you live close to a park? Yeah, there’s one about ten minutes away.

Is your favourite animal endangered? Yeah, tigers are.

Have you eaten pizza in the last week? Yeah, I had a roasted vegetable pizza on Saturday.

Who was the last person you added to your contacts list? An unknown number so I could look them up on WhatsApp.

How long does it take you to shower? Five minutes. I hate actually being in the shower but I love the feeling of being clean so I just get it over and done with.

Do you prefer a brand of bottled water over others, or is it all the same? I don’t drink bottled water.

Have you used Wikipedia today? Yeah.

Are you better at writing fiction or non-fiction? Fiction, for sure.

Do you know anyone who has moved to a different state? Yeah, I don’t know many people who haven’t lol.

How many pens can you see from where you’re sitting? Zero.

Have you ever dated someone one grade/year above or below you? Of course.

What language do you think you’d be good at? Italian. What language do you think you’d fail at? Any language with symbols lol.

Do you still have a landline phone at your house? No.

What is your current desktop background? Just an outer space image I got off Google.

How big is the television you last watched? It’s about 42″ I think.

Have you ever been stung by a bee or a wasp? Yeah.

How many schools have you been to in your lifetime? Two schools, and two universities.

What is the middle name of the last person you texted? He doesn’t have a middle name.

Are you of legal age in your country? Yes.

Why did you last visit a doctor? To get a sick note for work.

Would you prefer an ice cream cake or a regular cake? Regular cake.

How old is your best friend? 38.

What is/was your high school’s mascot? Schools in the UK don’t really have mascots.

Do you carry pain relievers with you at all times? Not on my person, but I always have some in the car.

Where is your mother right now? I assume she’s at home as she’s showing as online on Messenger.

What was the last thing to make you smile? Toby and Archie giving each other kisses lol.

Are you currently saving up for anything? Nothing specific, no - more just general “life” stuff.

What’s the view like from your bedroom window? Boring. It’s just the front street and the row of houses opposite.

Generally speaking, do you prefer sweet or savoury? Savoury.

What would you do if you got home and you saw your house had been destroyed? Panic? lol.

When did you last go outside, and what for? I went to fill my car up and grab an iced coffee.

Who is your favourite Sesame Street character? I never watched Sesame Street growing up really.

How often do you check your emails? Whenever I see that I have a new one.

Do you have any plans for this Thanksgiving? We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here.

What colour is your backpack? The bag I use the most is black.

Would you slap the last person you talked to for twenty dollars? Hahaha yes. 

What search engine do you usually use? Google.

How much did the shirt you’re wearing cost? About £4.

Patrick Stump or Pete Wentz? Neither.

Do you know anyone who gives way too many hugs? No.

What time do you usually wake up on Sundays? Around 8-9am.

Have you whispered today? No.

What grade did you get on the last test you took? Christ knows, I haven’t taken any kind of test in years.

[mrskittythulhu]

Blue Flames of a One Night Stand

(18+) Dabi + (y/n fem) 

part 2 part3 part4

www.wattpad.com

It was never meant to be like this. The one-night stand should have ended hours ago but some how the sun rose with you tucked in his arms. He just wanted a night to unwind with a few drinks and a quick release but somehow you came home with him and spent the night.

The light flowed in from the window between the holes of the old curtains. Your body curled up under his blanket trapping one of his arms underneath you like a pillow. Dabi took his free arm from over you to rub the sleep out of his eyes. After blinking a few times to adjust to the early afternoon light his gaze traveled over your sleeping form. Dabi smiled at himself seeing your ruined mascara streamed down your cheeks. Memories of your screams flicked in his mind.

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself. Dabi fell back onto the bed tossing is arm over his face with a low grumble. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still peacefully sleeping. Slowly he dragged his palm over his face in frustration.

Slowly he pulled his arm out from under you trying not to wake you. As you rolled away the blanket fell away from your chest revealing your perked nipples. Deep bite marks over your chest and neck reminded him of his actions last night in his drunken haze. Dabi’s cock twitched at the sight of you exposed. He softly watched you sleep on his bed for a moment before snapping himself out of his trance. Slowly he pulled the blanket back up over you before sliding out of bed.

Enjoying the feeling of the cold floor beneath his feet he took a step only to feel silky fabric bush across his toes. Looking down to the floor was the dress he burned off your body. A sinister smiled graced his lips at the memory of how the dress hugged your curves until his blue flames helped him rip the fabric from your body. He let out a groan as he picked up the burned fabric. When he stood back up, he began to feel painfully aware of his arousal. Letting out a huff of air from his nose Dabi made his way to the bathroom.

With a twist of the lock, he felt secure with in the small space. Quickly discarding your mini dress into the tiny trash bin. He was not sure what you would wear when you got up, but he tried to convince himself that it was not his problem. You should never have let him burn your clothes in the first place if you did not have anything else to wear home. His sadistic side absolutely loved the way his blue flames danced across your skin and how you moaned when he would use his quirk.

Leaning over the sink his eyes slowly trailed up to meet his reflection in the mirror. Your bright lipstick smeared over his own lips with matching kiss marks down his neck and chest. A ring of faint lipstick remained at the base of his shaft. Giving himself a slow stroke of his length with only the memory of how you took him deeply in your mouth in the dirty bathroom of the club last night. As his eyes made it back up to the mirror, he noticed that in the same lipstick color on his body was your name and number on the glass. Dabi checked darkly to himself knowing he had completely forgotten your name if he even bothered to ask at all in his drunken haze.

Dabi stopped his hand to reach for the shower faucet.  Quickly stepping inside the shower to enjoy the cold water running over his burned shin. Dabi placed his left had on to the tile wall as his right began to stroke along his hardened length. The metal of his piercing rolled along his palming action. He began to breath deeply into the cold water that flowed over his face. Quiet curses and deep grunts escaped his lips at the memory of your body bousing on his old mattress. With a few final strokes his chest hummed as he found his release. Dabi’s mind began to clear as he watched the water swirl down the drain. With a deep breath he finally grabbed the soap and washed away the possessive love marks and dried bodily fluids you left on his body.

With a feeling of slight mental clarity Dabi walked over to his secondhand dresser. Aloud squeak from opening the drawer caused you to stir. Realizing you are finally waking up he quickly pulls out a pair of black jeans and old white shirt. Once clothed he reached to the top of the dresser for his cigarettes placing one in his mouth to light with his quirk.

Slowly he walks over to the bed. Seeing your bare bottom peeking out from the sheets with is handprint lightly branded into your skin began to fill his head with pleasant thoughts. ‘She left her number maybe she wants to meet again. Of course, she does, sluts like her love getting dicked down.’ The thought of you staying slowly turned into thoughts of his villainous life. ‘Wonder how that dusty Tomura would feel about her? He would want to share her as if that dusty virgin would know what to do with a piece of ass like that.’

The bed squeaked as he sat on the edge next to you. Leaning an arm over your body to hover over you he let out a puff of smoke away from your sleeping form. “Going to wake up at some point doll face?” Your face scrunched up as you let out a groggy groan soon to peak up at him with one eye.

“Coffee?” your voice comes out strained and scratchy.

“Ya, I got some,” there was a sarcastic chuckle in his voice, “anything else you want princess?” With a satisfied moan a smile crosses your face. You stretch your arms above your head and wiggle your body beneath him.  You reach your hand over to clasp the hand Dabi held the cigarette with and pulled his cigarette into your mouth while he held it for a drag.

“Shower if you don’t mind.” You lock eyes with the bright blue that stole your attention all night. You were not sure what he was thinking but you enjoyed how intensely he was staring down at you.

“Water only runs cold princess.”

“Well after last night I could use a little cooling off.” Dabi frimly grabbed your ass cheek with a satified hum in his throat. You could feel a low heat from his palm made from his quirk. After a moment he release you. Standing up from the bed he put out his cigarette in the ash tray on the windowsill next to the bed. He started to walk to the door and your eyes followed his movement.

“If your going to eye fuck me this early in the morning, we could just go another round.” Dabi glanced up and down your barley covered body with a grip on his belt buckle as if he were waiting for you to invite him back over.

“Shower first need to get your kids out of my hair.” As Dabi tried to hold back his laughter you managed to roll out of his bed. His blue eyes drank in every curve of your naked body in the light of the day. The bruises, hickeys, scratches, bites and burns only made you look more attractive to him. “See something you like?” You say with a sarcastic tone as you bend over slowly giving him a full view of your ass while you pick up you purse.

“Just admiring my handy work babe.” You slowly strut across the room lust filled blue eyes follow your every step. You arch up on your toes to place a chase kiss on his lips. Tossing your bag over your shoulder you walk into his bathroom.

You walk into the kitchen hair wet and up in a messy bun. Glasses on your face because you needed to rest your eyes after wearing contacts late into the night. Thin short pink running short and a tight white tank top with matching thin flimsy sandals. With each step closer to Dabi the smell of coffee makes you let out a satisfied hum.

“So, your name is Dabi?” You had noticed he taken your lipstick and wrote on the bathroom mirror as you had to what you assumed to be his name. Dabi slowly turned around with a mug to his lips grunting confirmation to your question. He handed you a mug of black coffee and took the moment you were distracted by your beverage to take in your appearance.

He was surprised that you had a change of clothes in your small bag, but his face showed no emotion. Part of him was hoping you would walk out in only a towel or the hoodie he left on the bed for you. Dabi thought you looked so normal and innocent in your day clothes making him wonder why you were here with him. You made the aggressive advances on him the night before and now he was starting to question your motives. The bitter taste to his coffee was nothing to the bitter feeling of being used. He sucked down another gulp of coffee trying to harden his already shielded heart. Dabi placed his mug down, crossed his arms over his chest then lean back on the counter.

“(Y/n) right?” His tone was dark and sarcastic when he spit out your name. You felt an unpleasant chill run down your spine. Trying to place the mug down without showing how intimidated you were by his sudden change in attitude was difficult. You smiled tightly and hummed out a yes to show he had your full attention.

Dabi enjoyed the fear in your eyes it gave him a deep satisfaction. He pushed himself away from the kitchen counter in two quick steps he was toe to toe with you. His height difference was clear as he looked down at you. His grip was tight on the tip of your chin when he pulled your gaze up to meet his. He leaned in close with an intimidating look in his blue eye.

“What is a sweet little thing like you doing playing round in a hole in the wall bar with a thug like me?”

You felt frozen in place as you tried to steady your breathing. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It was obvious you planned to sleep with someone you even packed extra clothes. You could not blame him for the question, but it was the deep threatening tone that he asked in that made you want to choose your next words carefully.

“So, what is it, were you board and needing someone to spice up your perfect life? Or do you get off on using people?” You try to respond but only a few low squeaks escape. Your throat feels try and legs weak as you try to look away from his sharp glare.

When Dabi goes to release your chin, he pushes you head to the side nearly knocking you off balance. With a huff he is back to leaning nest to the counter arms folded over his chest. He will not even look at you and the sour expression on his face fills you with guilt.

“Just go.” With those harsh words you felt tears filling your eyes.

You storm off to his bedroom to grab the last of your things. While in there you take the time to mentally collect yourself. This was not how things were meant to be. You needed to tell him the truth even if he did not believe you or care what you say. A rising determination was fueling you to go back out and tell him why you hooked up with him last night. Straightening up your stance to toss your bag over your shoulder as you turn around you find Dabi filling up the door frame and blocking your way out. Your body slightly jerks back in response to not expecting him to be behind you.

“Umm Dabi,” you stuttered shyly as you spoke up, “Look its not like either of us were planning to have more than a one night.” He squinted his eyes at you but said nothing. Inside he was slightly offended after how softly he thought of you this morning but over all he did agree with you. “Yes I did pursue you .. rather hard last night but I can explain.” You began to twiddle your finders nervously along the hem of your shirt. Dabi still stay silent, but the quirked eyebrow seemed to you as an indication to continue. “Well, you kind of look like a villain.” You were not wrong, but Dabi still felt like he had a right to be offended plus he was starting to enjoy watching you squirm.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better being called a villain because why? My scars?” Dabi stood tall in the doorway radiating off an intimidating presence.

“Ok I know that came out wrong, but I needed someone to ruin my reputation.” Well, that was an unexpected answer. Dabi felt taken back as he tried to understand what kind of a woman would willing let a man ruin her reputation. Dabi took slow strides towards you closing the distance and still blocking you from the door. You backed away in a slow shuffle as he approached until the back of your knees met the bed nearly knocking you off balance. Dabi leaned his head down slightly and placed a firm grip on your chin tilting your face up at him.

“I -I just wanted my ex-boyfriend to leave me alone.”

“And how did I fit into that little plan of yours.”

“We broke up 6 months ago, but he won’t let me move on keep saying I’m good for his reputation because he’s some mid rank hero.” That peaked Dabi’s interest. He loosed his grip on your chin and took a slight step back wordlessly signaled for you to continue explaining with a flick of his hand.

“We broke up 6 months ago, but it was more like I dumped him because he is an abusive jerk.” You took a deep breath to try and suppress tears of the memories of your past relationship. “It got to the point I wasn’t allowed to have friends because I needed to always be available to him even though he was cheating all the time. When I called him out on the cheating, he just claimed they were very affectionate fans.” Your tone got bitter the more you spoke. “So even after I broke up with him and moved, he would still fallow me or have another hero friend follow me. He broke into my home and would constantly call me even when I was at work. He continued to tell people we were together and because other people never saw the abuse I was labeled as an ungrateful girlfriend.” You could no longer hold in the tears your voice was starting to crack from crying.

“Shhh Shhh- princess don’t waste anymore of your tears on a guy like that.” He tried hard to make his words sound sincere. Dabi knew all too well how corrupt heroes were and so he quickly thought of a way to help make you look more ‘ruined’. At least he would get another taste of you before ridding himself of unnecessary drama. He really did not need more heroes following him around but if his idea worked, even a little, there might not be one following you. It was a win, win, to him.

“You need to save all those tears for the punishment I’m about to give you.”

“Punishment?”

“That right, punishment. You have been a very naughty girl using people like that for your own needs.”

“But I- “

“No buts.” He guides you slowly to lay back on the bed with your feed dangling off at the knees over the edge. “You need to show me how sorry you are for what you have done and take your punishment. Got that?”

“Yes…sir.”

“Good girl.”

Dabi lightly nudged you to sit on the bed by putting his hand atop your shoulders. The bed made a loud creaking sound as your weight caused it to sink. His fingers slowly traced down your body until he finally placed his hands on either one of your thighs.  As he leaned in, he pushed your legs apart. His nose ran up the length of your clothed slit the sensation caused you to let out a breathy moan.

“Wet already and I’ve barely touched you. I told you doll face this is a punishment.” Without wasting a moment Dabi smacked his hand hard on to the top of your feminine parts. You let out a loud sharp scream from the sharp pain. He quickly found your clit and started rubbing slow circles adding pleasure to the dulling pain you felt. His free hand crawled up towards the elastic band of your shorts hooking his fingers under the elastic. With a few shimmies of your shorts your bottom half was soon bare.

“Ooo!” Dabi leaned in and kissed the red handprint he left on your sensitive flesh. For a split second he felt guilty about how hard he hit you but the thoughts of what he was still planning to do was causing a sinister smile to form through his stapled face. “I’m starting to think you enjoy pain.”

“No, it’s not like that I..”, Unable to finish your sentence as a wave of pleasure was building up in you. Dabi no longer cared what you had to say he was more focused on the moans he could pull from you.

Your chest was slight blocking your view of fully seeing Dabi’s face, but you could feel his fingers slowly pumping into you. His lips and tongue swirled and sucked on your hood and clit. The combination was quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. After how long the two of you were intimate the night before your body was already sensitive.

You started to moan out what you though were words saying how you were about to cum but suddenly everything stopped. You sat up slightly in shock to see Dabi licking his finger of your juices with a sinister smirk. It was very quickly obvious he was not going to finish.

“I told you this was a punishment. Now get your things and get out.” With those cold words he stood up with your shorts in his hand. He lazily tossed them at you so dumbfounded by what just happened you nearly loss balance catching them. Dabi walked away from you as you put your clothes back on. He pulled out a cigarette and leaned near the partly opened window. Everything about him was cold again and it twisted you up inside far more than before.

Despite the aching in your shorts and the twisting pain in your chest you managed to gather your bag without crying again. You looked over at Dabi hoping to see some kind of emotion from him, but he turned his gaze away from you. With quick strides you made your way across his tiny apartment and out the front door. To make yourself feel a little better you slammed it shut behind you causing the cheep walls to shake.

Your angry pride filled power walk slowed after you made it a few blocked away. Slowly you shuffled to the nearby bus stop and leaned on the street sign. As you waited for the bus you allowed yourself to quietly let out tears. A mix of regret filled you as you replayed the last 24 hours in your mind. “Dabi..”

[osamiiya]

Waking up next to them

Pairings: Osamu x Reader, Hinata x Reader, Sakusa x Reader, Bokuto x Reader, Akaashi x Reader (Sperate)

A/n: Sorry this took me so long JEBDJDB I got distracted and yelled at so I watched streamers also I'm sorry I can't write for Kenma idk how to characterize him JSBDB

**I wrote Brazil Hinata because kissing the freckles that form on his back <3

Again all my opinion!

Miya Osamu

---

He's a pretty deep sleeper, not a lot of tossing and turning either

Osamu usually wakes up in the position he fell asleep in usually on his back

You joke that he sleeps like a log and he just snorts and rolls his eyes because he knows it's true

He likes it when you sleep with your head on his chest and he can wrap his arms around you just so that when he wakes up he can feel your weight on his chest and it reminds him you're real, and his.

Your eyes peek open before Osamu's, and looking up from where your head layed on his chest, you can feel the slight stubble on his jaw brush against your forehead.

The light shines on his skin and he's warm and the personification of comfort as he shifts and brings you closer to him.

Osamu eventually wakes up when you trace shapes and affectionate words onto his chest, the slight tickle and weight of your head becoming apparent as he groans and attempts to stretch his back, breathing deeply before letting you go slightly so he can see your face.

" mornin'." There's a lazy smile on his face, eyes hooded and voice deep and gravelly.

You get up to lean over him and plant a soft hiss on his lips, giggling when fatigue makes it hard for him to open his eyes again.

"Morning, love." The quiet morning is filled with soft affection and hushed giggles as he blinks the sleep away and yawns, sitting up and running a hand through messy hair lazily.

"Breakfast?"

Hinata Shoyo

---

It's 50/50 that you wake up before him

Hinata tosses and turns in his sleep, but he always makes sure he's touching you in some way, whether it be your legs hooked together, hands clasped, or backs touching

He's not the deepest sleeper but when he's tired it's impossible to wake him

He likes loves it if you wake him up with kisses, he'd like to wake up to your kisses forever.

You wake up before him, finding his leg positioned behind him, hooked with yours as if you were sea otters trying not to drift apart.

The Brazil sun, and Hinata's tendency to forget sunscreen helped him form freckles on his back, not too dark but there nontheless.

He's on his side facing away from you, white tank he usually wears to sleep loose and halfway off from tossing and turning.

Shuffling closer to him, you gently kiss each freckle, kissing the tops of his shoulders to his neck and up his jaw, ending behind his ear.

"Shoyo." It's whispered, but enough to wake Hinata up, the boy waking up slowly like butter melting when he realizes you're the one placing kisses on him.

Shifting so hes facing you again, he peeks one eye open to admire you for a moment before smiling and draping an arm around you and pulling you in, kissing the top of your head and sighing deeply.

"Just 5 more minutes like this."

Sakusa Kiyoomi

---

Light sleeper and wakes up before you always

Whether it's to shower first, or go on a run before coming back to shower before you wake

He'll always wander back into bed with you though, getting under the covers carefully and admirintyou until he falls back asleep

Sakusa rarely sleeps in, but it's usually after games or meeting with friends the night before, needing the sleep to recharge

"Yoomi?" Your eyes open to a mop of damp black curls, Sakusa attaching himself to your torso, hugging you carefully as he sleeps contentedly.

He smells like shampoo and bar soap from showering and your shirt feels damp from where his forehead is pressed into your chest.

After a little bit of tugging and loud groans and grumbles of protest you're able to pry Sakusa's face from your chest to look at him, dark eyes staring up at you as he blinks heavily, wanting to go back to sleep.

"You're so clingy in the morning." Your whisper just makes Sakusa roll his eyes, smile tugging at his lips as he buries his head back into your chest, huming happily as he starts to breathe deeper and deeper.

Sakusa knows you don't have anything to do soon, and he's perfectly ok with staying in bed like this.

"Yoomi-"

"No."

"Yoomi I have to pee."

Bokuto Kotaro

---

He likes to sleep on his side! With you tucked into his chest, your head using his arm as a pillow, the other draped across your midsection.

Even if he's awake, he dosent want to open his eyes and break the perfect atmosphere so he'll wait for you to "wake up with him"

Sometimes he'll wake up after you though, his body dosent let him sleep in too long though, so enjoy it when you can

He dosent move too much in his sleep, sometimes he'll reposition you so you're facing him, but otherwise he's nice to sleep next to

It's noon when your eyes blink awake, the first thing you see being Bokuto's chest, feeling him breathe deeply, tightening his grasp on you slightly every time.

He must've been tired because even as you wiggle out of his grasp to look at his face his face stays unmoving, a flash of discomfort washing over his face unconsciously because you aren't in his arms like before.

"Kou." One whisper of his name is enough to get him to stir slightly hands coming out to pull you back into his chest, hands carding through your hair before he takes one last deep sigh, breathing getting calm and deep again.

At the feeling of you wiggling, his eyes peek open, playful glint dancing through them.

"Where're you going?"

"Away from you." You giggle, watching his lips form a pout.

"I'm not done holding you though, get back here." Bokuto hums happily as he holds you tightly, feeling your breath get deeper as sleep takes over, being too comfortable in his arms.

Akaashi Keiji

---

He's a very light sleeper, and will take up if you wiggle out of his arms while sleeping

Akaashi gets the best sleep when you're in his arms, and he always has butterflies in his stomach no matter how many times he's waken up to you

This being said, he likes to face you when sleeping, even if you sleep on your back

His arm is always drapes across you though

Akaashi's eyelashes are long.

At least, that's what you've deduced from observing his face up close waiting for him to wake up, the sun casting shadows on his skin and making it glow a healthy gold.

Hes not sleeping too deeply, that much is apparent from the light up and down of his chest.

"Still staring?" His voice startles you and you huff as a grin grows on his lips, eyes opening slightly, the gunmetal blue dull with sleep as he stifles a yawn.

"Not yet, I didn't get a chance to admire your eyebrows." Your tone is light and teasing, and Akaashi's heart speeds up.

The air is crisp and cold, but Akaashi pulls you into his chest, warming you up as he looks down at you.

"Go back to sleep, you need the rest."

It's apparent that he's just saying that so the two of you can stay in bed a little longer, enjoying eachother's warmth.

You nod, sleep starting to wash over your senses.

"Did you know that your eyelashes are long?" Your eyes are closed as you ask, the question muffled into Akaashi's chest as he laughs slightly.

You don't get to hear his response as you fall back asleep, but Akaashi assumes that's what happened and kisses the top of your head, muttering an 'I love you' into your hair.

---

Taglist:

@tetsurolls @elianetsantana @peteunderoos @jovialnoise @ryusex-wife @dai-tsukki-desu @aruhappy @indecisivehusky @curiouslilbeast @kageyuji @alphabetsoupyum @dumbiebambi @dejvns @x-ia-n @llamakenma @hawksnumberoneuwu @prayerofthehaim @morpheus-rex @kac-chowsballs @sushii10 @chiiasa @sachirou-senpai @kenmas-bitxh

*Taglist in navigation

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 4

a/n: i seriously cannot thank you guys enough, and i apologies for taking a lot longer to post. but the love and kind words and support that you’ve given me has been just incredible and i could cry happy tears honestly. now, i hope u enjoy part 4 and all that it includes and pls remember to reblog and leave feedback if u did like it and share it with ur followers/friends ❤️ love u all!

and of course, as always, thank you to @arrogantstyles​ for beta reading 😘

word count: 16k

warnings: mentions of masturbation (right off the bat too ur welcome lol), cursing, consumption of alcohol (i swear they’re not drunks, just ‘tis the season ya know), and minor sexual content (!!!!!!finally!!!!!) 

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist

Harry’s breathing is loud, echoing off the walls of his shower as he struggles to inhale and exhale slowly once more. He inhales deeply and lets his hand that was resting upon the wall in front of him drop back to his side. He huffs through his mouth, blowing away some drops of water that were dripping down his face, while the other hand releases the grasp he had on his cock. Harry didn’t intend to masturbate in the shower like some hormonal teenager; he didn’t plan to masturbate last night before he got under the covers, either. It’s all Y/N’s doing, he thinks, she was clouding his head more than usual. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about last night, the lingering stares, her small delicate hands lingering on his thigh or dancing over his rings.

“Jesus,” Harry’s voice is hoarse as he curses himself. He was this close to falling back into yet another spiral down the rabbit hole that was Y/N. Which would more than likely result in him playing with himself, again.

Bringing both his hands under the water, he gives them a quick rinse before turning to his shelf where his body wash is. He pumps a bit of the goat's milk and lavender infused soap into his hand and brings it to his chest, rubbing in circles till it begins to bubble on his skin. He works his way down to the mess between his thighs, gently cleaning himself up before rinsing off. Harry turns to face the wall again.Sighing, he cups his hands under the stream of warm water and splashes it onto the wall before he just brings his hand up to wipe away the remains of his little private solo session.

Once he’s all squeaky clean, Harry turns off the water and shakes his hair out a little before he’s opening the glass shower door and stepping out. He grabs his towel, drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist. A part of him will always want to grab a second towel to wrap up his hair, but it’s no longer the length that it’s needed. Sometimes he misses his long hair. Harry makes sure the fan is on before he leaves the bathroom and walks into his bedroom.

I wonder what Y/N is doing? He thinks as he reaches into his drawers for a pair of pants, some grey sweatpants, and then walks over to his closet to grab a dark blue crew neck jumper and a plain white shirt to wear underneath. Wonder what Y/N is wearing today, Harry daydreams as he lets his towel drop and steps into his pants, then into the sweatpants next. Suddenly Harry comes to realize what he’s doing, how utterly annoying he is by thinking about what Y/N is doing at any given moment. It’s something he’s caught himself doing before, actually. He inhales through his nose and shakes his head. Just relax, he thinks and then finishes getting dressed and pockets his cell phone that was sitting on his charger before he’s walking out to his living room.

As Harry’s preparing his coffee machine for his first cup of the day, his phone begins to vibrate. Fishing it out of his front pocket, he looks at the screen to see Mitch’s contact photo. Harry sets the baby blue mug he had grabbed into place for his coffee to brew and then swipes his finger across the screen to answer Mitch’s call.

“Hey,” Harry says, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he opens his bread box and grabs a loaf of twelve grain.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch asks. Harry’s eyebrows crease at his friend's absurd question.

“What?” Harry questions. His focus is on unraveling the bag his bread was in, grabbing two slices, before twisting it back up and sticking it into the bread box. He shuts the bread box and walks the few steps to his left to his toaster, plopping the bread slices into it and pushing down the buttons to get his breakfast toasting.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch repeats himself, this time taking a brief pause after each word to really get his words across. Harry just rolls his eyes at Mitch and takes his phone back into his hand. He catches sight of the digital clock on his oven and his face twists up in confusion suddenly.

“Have you gone to sleep yet?” Harry asks, puzzled by how it’s just past nine in the morning and Mitch is somehow awake enough to call him.

“No, but that’s besides the point here, H,” Mitch says, breezes over the fact he’s an absolute lunatic for not going to sleep yet. “You’re dodging my question, so therefore I’m going to assume she’s still in bed,” he resorts. Harry can tell by the sass in his voice that he’s still buzzing from whatever amount of alcohol he had after him and Y/N left the bar last night. Harry watches his coffee drip into the mug slowly and furrows his brows once again at his friends words.

“Who’s still in bed?” Harry asks. Mitch lets out a deep breath and Harry just knows he’s rolling his eyes too.

“Who do you think I mean, Harry? The queen of England? No, I mean Y/N. Obviously,” he grumbles into the phone. Harry grabs the handle of his mug now full of coffee and rolls his eyes again.

“Y/N and I didn’t sleep together last night, sorry to disappoint,” he chirps back at Mitch.

“Bullshit, you two were basically eye fucking last night, the sexual tension was insane,” Mitch states. While Mitch is talking, Harry blows on his coffee before taking a small sip. The black coffee is still hot on his tongue, but doesn’t burn it thankfully. Suddenly his two slices of toast pop up, he sets down his mug and opens his fridge to find his small container of margarine. As he’s opening a drawer to find a butter knife, he lets out a tiny sigh.

“Like I said last night,” Harry pauses to make sure Mitch is listening, “I’m letting things settle down for her and see how it plays out,” Harry explains, resting his phone between his ear and shoulder again in order to take out the toast and spread butter on both slices.

“And what you’re saying is it didn’t play out with her ending up in your bed last night? I’m shocked, really,” Mitch says, his voice sounding genuinely surprised to hear that Harry’s night didn’t end how he imagined it would.

Honestly, Harry imagined it the same way at some points last night too. Thinking about how Y/N was a bit of a touchy drunk, therefore did that mean that she would be looking for her rebound hookup? Harry didn’t want to be that though. There was too much potential between them and this connection they’ve made so quickly, that he didn’t want to ruin it with some drunk hookup. But, yes, he imagined it, cause he’d be an idiot not to - a hot girl smiling all night at him, how she would jut out her chest just slightly cause he figured she loved how his eyes wandered over her body at times; so of course he thought of how their night could have ended differently together. Hell, he masturbated while thinking about it, twice within the past twelve hours to be exact.

Plus, their time last night was more than the sexual tension that may or may not have happened. Harry’s stomach is fluttering around just thinking about the gitty smiles and sweet words from Y/N, and how well she clicked with his best mates too. And truthfully, he was happy with how the night ended - with them in their own beds. Because their time would come eventually, Harry would let things play out however Y/N needed it to and he would wait for the right moment to swoop in and give her what he hoped was the best kiss of her life. Big dreams, Styles, he thinks to himself.

“She didn’t even think you liked her,” Harry tells Mitch, causing him to let out a snort.

“You know how I am,” he dismisses Harry's comment, “but I don’t know man, she’s good for you,” Mitch adds in a soft voice. His words make another storm of butterflies to erupt in Harry’s stomach as he smiles. “I didn’t not like her, I just sat back and let the two of you laugh all night and eye fuck each other on occasion too,” Mitch explains a little too casually. Harry shakes his head and takes a bit of his toast.

“Go to sleep, Mitch,” Harry says after he chews some of his toast.

“Good idea,” he yawns. “Talk soon,” he says.

“Bye,” Harry responds, taking his phone away from his ear and hanging up the call.

Harry grabs his plate with his half eaten toast in one hand and his coffee in the other, bringing it to his small dining table that sat against the far wall of his kitchen. Sipping his coffee now, it’s not too hot and he can actually enjoy it between bites of his toast. During him eating he finds his thoughts drifting to their typical place these days - Y/N.

Long story short, he found himself only liking her more than before after how things were between them last night. He can’t even imagine how far gone he’ll be for her if things actually went further than this blossoming friendship - with a dash of sexual tension - that they’ve established.

“This hangover is truly going to kill me,” Y/N groans out.

She’s finally standing on her two feet in the bathroom after having been sitting by the toilet for the past twenty minutes. Both her palms are face down on the counter, her arms straight as she leans forward slightly and lets her head hang heavy between her shoulders. Looking up at her reflection she sees just how dirty the tequila has done her by the bags under her eyes and the queasy feeling in her stomach as she just thinks about how much tequila she had last night.

“It’s karma for not sleeping with Harry,” Sammy taunts her, his voice coming through the speaker of her cell phone that rests on the counter beside her.

He called earlier while Y/N was still asleep, the first time in forever that she slept past ten in the morning. She had seen the call, but was too busy rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach to return it. Then she showered away the gross hungover feeling, it only helped a little, before she got dressed into a pair of leggings and an old college hoodie and ended up in front of the toilet again as the tequila teased her making her think she was going to throw up but she didn’t - thankfully.

“I thought about it, Sammy, I swear,” she shares, letting out a sigh as she looks up at the ceiling and relaxes her body again - the threat of vomiting again seeming to fade away.

“So why didn’t you?” Sammy asks.

“Cause I just didn’t want it to be like some pointless quick fuck with him,” Y/N tells him truthfully. “Sure, I loved how as we both got buzzed things got a little more careless and touchy and flirty. But it was just fun and it made my head spin and my heart pretty much leaped out of my chest. It wasn’t just stupid pointless flirting to get laid, it was deeper than that,” she explains to her best friend. As her words spill out she realizes she doesn’t quite make sense, and yet it made perfect sense in her head how she felt about Harry.

“And you feel this way and managed to somehow not tackle this man down and fuck his brains?” Sammy questions, his voice in a joking tone but Y/N knows he’s genuinely confused.

“Obviously I imagined it,” she admits, “I fucking brought out my vibrator last night, Sammy, I was that turned on by the damn guy. But I really don’t want to mess this up with Harry. I don’t want to jump right into it after the break up with Mark, and then ruin what is hands down the best connection I’ve ever felt with someone before. I just want to see how things play out, don’t force anything, you know?” she spills out, letting out a deep breath afterwards.

Those words have been heavy on her chest since she woke up this morning and replayed everything that happened between her and Harry. The smiles, the longing looks, the drinks, the touching, the smirking, and the goddamn sexual tension. Yes, she wanted to kiss him, many, many, times; all over his body, anywhere that she could. She imagined how their night could’ve ended if she wanted just a simply messy hot drunk hookup. But she wanted more than that with Harry - so much more. It was the honest truth, regardless of how soon she’s broken up with Mark, she can’t ignore how her feelings have grown towards Harry. So, she was just going to let it go on and whatever happens, happens.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Sammy asks, bringing the topic away from Harry - only for Y/N to bring it right back. Which was exactly how her thoughts have been doing lately too; drifting away from Harry for only a moment before flying right back to him.

“Um, I sort of drunkenly made plans to watch a movie with Harry tonight,” she says, “I don’t even know if he remembers, I’m just going to wing it and knock on his door later.”

“You know what you should do? You should invite him to the work holiday party,” Sammy suggests, “I’m getting tired of talking about him so much and yet I don’t even know what he really looks like cause you suck at taking discreet sneaky pictures,” he explains with a dramatic sigh. Y/N rolls her eyes and finally decides now is a good time to leave the bathroom, no longer feeling too sick from her hangover. But she still heads back to her bedroom, flopping down onto her bed.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to make it weird and invite him to something less casual,” Y/N says.

“Well, see how things play out these next few days and if it’s good then invite him, seriously I’m dying to see some eye candy, Y/N,” Sammy groans.

“Okay, Sammy, we’ll see,” Y/N says, matching his melodramatic tone. She lets out another sigh, which is then taken over by a yawn. “I’m going to go, my head is pounding and I think I should try and nap before dealing with some work emails and then going to Harry’s,” Y/N explains.

“Fine,” Sammy sighs, “it’s weird that you’re the hungover one and I’m not,” he mentions. Y/N lets out a laugh through her nose and shuts her eyes.

“Honestly, it is,” she agrees, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ok, bye, feel better,” Sammy says, Y/N hears the smile in his voice.

“Thanks, bye,” she says and then hangs up the phone. She puts it down beside her and keeps her eyes shut. Taking a few deep breaths, Y/N tries to fall back asleep again. And she’s just about to when she hears that familiar heart warming guitar from Harry’s apartment. She wonders how long he’s been up? If he’s hungover at all too? She could text him and ask, but instead she just lays there and smiles as she listens to the muffled sweet melody he’s playing - then falls back into a deep slumber that her hungover body so desperately needed.

Y/N had texted Harry earlier, after he had written an entire song, surprisingly not about her this time. Well there was one line he wrote down that had to do with Y/N - played with myself where were you. It was cheeky, and didn’t really go with anything else he had so he just flipped through his journal and let himself get immersed into his songwriting during the hours of the day. Only ever stopping to make himself food or to use the washroom - otherwise, he was working hard without even meaning to.

Her first text read, So what time should I come over to watch the Polar Express? And then her second one made Harry chuckle, Also that guitar playing sounds pretty heavenly today, can’t wait to hear it in person later. With a winking face emoji at the end and everything. Cheeky girl, and anytime after seven should be fine to come over. Harry texted her back, also adding a winking emoji and then he went back into his work, ordered dinner, and now here they were.

There’s a rather soft knock on Harry’s door, causing him to stop writing in his journal and gets up to answer it. After unlocking the door, he swings it open and is surprised to see Y/N’s arms full, nearly dropping a can of whipped cream as she smiles at him.

“I brought everything for hot chocolate,” she states, beaming up at Harry over the container that holds her hot chocolate mix.

“I can see that,” Harry chuckles and reaches out to take everything from her. “You know I could’ve helped you carry a few things over, and I also have plenty of mugs here,” he says, lifting a finger that held the Grinch mug he had used at her apartment about a week ago now.

“I know, but mine are Christmas themed and it’s literally twelve days till Christmas and I need to use them as much as possible,” Y/N explains as she steps into Harry’s home and closes the door behind them. Harry takes in her appearance. Black leggings and a FIT jumper, and a pair of pink fuzzy socks on her feet. Harry’s brows pinch together as he holds back a laugh. “It’s only a few feet between our apartments, as you know, shoes are kind of pointless going back and forth,” she states with a nod.

Harry chuckles, lifting a brow and turning the corners of his lips up into a smile before saying, “yes, been there,” he says recalling the last time they had a movie night.

And just like that time, they moved together to the kitchen - after Harry locks the door behind Y/N - and they begin to make their hot chocolate in the two Christmas mugs Y/N brought along with her. Harry finds it endearing that she felt she needed to not only bring the supplies for hot chocolate, but also brought along her Christmas themed mugs. She truly does love the holidays, Harry thinks as he pours the boiling water into the mugs that Y/N had put the mix into. As they’re in the kitchen they’re talking about how their days were.

“So hungover,” Y/N groans, confirming how she had felt today after Harry had asked.

“You did drink that tequila like it was water though,” Harry states, chuckling as he watches Y/N stir the spoon in the mugs to mix up the hot chocolate. Y/N lets out a playful hiss as if the thought of all that tequila hurt her to think about now.

“I probably looked like a drunk in front of all your friends,” she thinks aloud. She frowns as she wraps her hand around the can of whipped cream, shaking it a few times before tipping it upside down and pushing the tip of it to fill up the top of the mug. She grabs the Grinch mug with one hand and holds it to Harry, making it smile as he realizes she remembered how he used that mug last time.

“They were just as drunk, maybe even more,” Harry tells her, “in fact, Mitch pulled an all nighter.”

“Well, good,” Y/N sighs, following him into the living room with both her hands wrapped around the Santa mug. “I really did have fun though,” she adds as they take a seat on the couch.

Harry meets her gaze after she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. A bit of whipped cream gets on her upper lip as she pulls the mug away. Y/N realizes and sticks her tongue out to swipe it over her lip, licking it away. Harry’s gaze is glued to her movements, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as he inhales slowly through his nose. And those certain thoughts of Y/N didn’t hide away for very long, Harry thinks before he clears his throat quietly and lifts his mug to his lips.

“I did too,” he says, “all of us did, they said you were cool like five times in our groupchat,” he adds before taking a sip of his warm drink. Y/N stomach lunges knowing that him and his friends talked about her in their groupchat. Has she been a topic of discussion before?

“Me? Cool?” Y/N questions, confusion thick in her voice. “No way, they’re the cool ones, not me. I mean you are all clearly very musically gifted and get to just hangout and make music and I find it all just very… Cool,” Y/N explains as she ends with a small sigh and smiles at Harry.

“It can be pretty cool, yeah,” Harry nods, mirroring her smile.

“Speaking of being musically gifted,” Y/N hums, smirking over her mug before taking another sip.

Harry knows where she’s going with this already. He gets that familiar nervous feeling in his stomach, nothing like the butterflies he was feeling just before knowing that she finds his line or work ‘cool’ - in fact he feels his smile slip immediately but tries to cover it with a cough. He sets down his mug and brings his hands to his lap, leaning back into the couch while he looks at the blank TV screen on the wall.

“Will you play something for me?” Y/N asks in that intoxicating softly spoken voice of hers.

“I want to play for you, I do,” Harry assures her after a few beats of silence, as he tried to figure out how to get her to drop this idea of him playing for her.  

“But?” Y/N inquiries, tilting her head slightly to try and look at his face better. He looks uncomfortable, Y/N thinks and tries her hardest to not frown. She guesses that he’s just got a bit of stage fright of some sorts. But he plays for a living, there must be a few people he plays in front of at the studio.

“But, I want to have the perfect song to show you,” Harry tells her as he turns to meet her eyes. It’s not a lie, he truly does want to play the most perfect song for her. But that nervous feeling in his stomach doesn’t go away.

“I’m sure all your songs are perfect,” Y/N assures him. Her voice is still as gentle as before.

“And also it’s my wrist,” Harry says suddenly, lifting his right wrist up, “I got surgery on it earlier this year, it’s just been acting up.” Quick thinking, Styles, he thinks and gives her a smile.

Y/N remembers how she had heard him playing earlier today. But by the way that Harry’s avoiding Y/N’s eyes again while this stretch of silence falls between them, and the fact he’s rubbing at his wrist for good measure too, Y/N knows that he’s not ready yet to play in front of her. So, she gives him a sweet smile and stands up from the couch suddenly.

“I have this heating pad, I use it on my ankle that I broke a few years back, it helps sometimes,” Y/N explains, “I’ll go get it,” she says.

Truthfully she just needed a moment to not have to hide how it hurt her feelings just a tad that Harry didn’t feel comfortable enough around her to play. It wasn’t the biggest deal ever, because she sure that one day he will. But it still makes her a bit sad that today’s not that day.

“Y/N, it’s fine, really,” Harry brushes off her suggestion.

“H, I live next door, I’ll be back in two seconds,” she insists, giving him a smile and walking from her seat on the couch, setting down her mug on the coffee table before she’s making her way around Harry as he sits there watching her.

“Okay,” Harry says softly and nods before Y/N is walking out of his apartment. The second the door closes behind her Harry’s deep in his thoughts.

Harry has a pretty high case of stage fright, the feeling of nerves bundling up inside of him at the thought of performing in front of people even made him feel a bit sick sometimes. It was something he’s been working on for years now, through schooling and with his career as a songwriter starting up afterwards too. He would eventually talk himself out of the fear of failing during any uni exams he had, and would ace it naturally, but that ball of nerves sat heavy in his stomach the entire time. When it came to his job, he simply warmed up to his colleagues. At first he didn’t speak up much, would stumble on some notes, but things worked out in the end. It helped a lot after he found his current group as they became his closest mates too, so he became much more comfortable with playing for them over some time.

He realizes that he considers Y/N a close friend now too, and that should mean that he would feel more than confident walking over to the acoustic guitar sitting at it’s stand in the corner by the chair in the living room - but he didn’t quite yet. And one of the main reasons was because he felt something much deeper than friendship. He really freaking liked her. And if he played something, mucking it up like an idiot because of his nerves, he would beat himself up over it for days if not weeks.

Harry imagines the first time he plays a song for her that will be perfect. The song would be about her, he’s got a few of those now, and as he plucked along slowly he’d peer up at her to find her smiling back at him. Then he would really surprise her and sing. Harry knows he can sing well, but again his stage fright that relates to a fear of failing causes him to not sing all that often. He’ll sing for demos for work, or when he’s by himself, but that’s about it. Mitch actually had asked Harry if he wanted to be a part of the band before he found their lead singer, but Harry politely declined and has more than enjoyed just sitting back and watching his friends play instead. Although there’s a small pit of jealousy and envy that’s been growing in size every time he watches them.

Suddenly the door opens back up and Harry’s snapping out of his thoughts to look over his shoulder at Y/N walking in with some brown fabric in her hands. She turns to lock Harry’s door, then turns around and holds up the heating pad in her hands with a smile. It’s a sloth, a simple stitching on it to show it’s hugging wherever it’s placed on someone’s body and a smile on its face.

“I got it not too long ago, while shopping for other people's gifts, actually,” Y/N admits and starts making her way into the kitchen. “Do you do that thing where you are supposed to just be buying presents for other people but you end up buying yourself something too?” She asks Harry, raising her voice slightly as she’s put some distance between them.

“Yes, it’s hard not to,” Harry says as watches her open his microwave and place the sloth inside. She pushes some buttons and it starts up. As the sloth spins inside, Y/N turns around and leans her back against the counter and looks through the open concept space at where Harry sat on the couch.

“Have you bought any presents this year?” She asks, knowing that he’s not going home for Christmas so therefore he wouldn’t have to buy much.

“Just some for Mitch, Adam and his wife and then Tom and Jenny,” Harry states, “what about you? Do you have lots of family to buy gifts for?”

“Not really,” Y/N lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “I’m an only child, but my aunt has a couple kids so I kind of go crazy for them,” she explains with a smile. The microwave beeps, signalling that the heating pad was all warmed up, and Y/N turns back around to open the door and grabs it. It’s not too warm, so she closes the microwave door and makes her way back over to Harry.

She hands the heating pad to Harry and he gives her a smile. He says a quiet ‘thank you’ and places it over his wrist that’s resting on his thigh. It does feel rather nice, actually, he thinks as he adjusts his hand under the warm sloth. He feels a bit bad for making up the little white lie, although his wrist does ache from time to time, it wasn’t in any sort of pain right now. But he’s just being a stupid little coward and deflecting her attention on him playing her something on his guitar. Harry does notice how Y/N’s eyes linger on the acoustic guitar across the room as she leans over to grab her hot chocolate again and takes her seat on the couch once more. You’re such an ass, Styles, Harry thinks to himself but clears his throat and looks at Y/N.

“Did you enjoy growing up as an only child?” He asks. Harry personally couldn’t imagine growing up on his own. His sister, Gemma, was one of his best friends and he was also rather close with cousins while growing up too so they felt a bit like siblings too.

“Not really, no,” Y/N answers truthfully. She clears her throat and looks down at the Santa mug in her hands. “My parents were always busy with working or socializing, sometimes I was invited to come along, other times I was kept away with a nanny or my Aunt would visit sometimes and keep me company.” She tells Harry, feeling herself slowly open up to the idea of sharing everything with him. She hardly told Mark a thing about her childhood or her parents - mostly because he already knew, since he grew up in the same sort of crowd.

“Are you close with your Aunt then?” Harry asks, keeping his voice in that low tone that still brought goosebumps to Y/N’s skin from time to time.

Y/N’s lips tug slightly up into a smile, looking up from her mug and meeting Harry’s gaze. “Yes, she’s probably the one family member that I am close with. I love my parents, don’t get me wrong,” she pauses and ponders how to explain it to him, looking up at the ceiling for only a moment before looking back at Harry. “They just value life a bit differently than me. My Aunt, Vivian, she’s just the most chill and most like me I guess,” Y/N settles with keeping it easy, not digging too deep into her family drama.

Her Aunt Viv, who was her mothers younger sister, was truly the only person in her family that she felt she connected with. Y/N did love her mom and dad, they gave her a life better than she could ever ask for, but they were much more into the lifestyle and gaining wealth and social status over being a true loving family. Hence the many after school programs they stuck her in, and also having a live-in nanny till she was fourteen. But when Viv was around things felt a bit normal in her ridiculously abnormal life.

Viv didn’t have the same big dreams of being a gold digger like Y/N’s mom did, so she went to university, fell in love with a nice young man who worked a normal blue collar type of job and they bought a house just outside of New Jersey. They never ask for any help from Y/N’s parents, and they worked very hard for the life they’re provided for their two young kids. She just found Viv to be much more inspiring than her own mother who’s days included online shopping and luncheons with fellow wives who lived off their wealthy husbands' money. As Y/N grew up, Viv would take her away from her nanny some nights and would just bring her to her home and watch movies, have painting nights, and would even sit down with Y/N for hours watching red carpet events too - knowing her love for fashion even at a young age. She became Y/N’s friend more than another snobby family member.

Harry had respectfully stayed quiet as he saw Y/N fall into deep thought. He didn’t want to ask anymore questions that would cross any lines because from what little he has heard, Y/N’s family life is a bit more complicated than he could imagine. Y/N smiles suddenly, as she’s thinking of a memory.

“Viv was actually the one who really got me into the love for the holidays,” she states, “like, yeah, my parents would go all out with the decorations and the gifts and the parties. But Viv introduced me to the better part of the holidays in my opinion, like she’d take me to the rinks around the city to skate, and she’d show me the city’s festive sights. We’d even have days dedicated to going to the Christmas market. And during all that she’d always have a Starbucks holiday drink in her hand. I guess you could say I sort of modelled my young adult self to be like her during the holidays,” Y/N explains with a smile on her lips.

Those times slowly sadly faded out after Y/N got into high school, and Viv finished uni and met her husband. They wouldn’t go to the rink as much, or go for pointless walks to see the city’s many lights and Christmas Trees. Before Y/N knew it, all those childhood memories that she cherished just slid away, but she understood - they both grew up and she would hold onto those memories that her Aunt Vivian gave her to her heart closely forever.

“But as we both got older, life got busy and now she gets to do all those things over again with her own kids and not her sisters neglected one,” Y/N tries to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn’t.

She hides her frown behind her Santa mug and takes a generous sip, the drink having grown colder as time has passed. Harry’s about to make a comment, about how he’s grateful that Y/N did at least have her Aunt, but Y/N speaks up before he can.

“What about you? What were the holidays like growing up?” She asks, a smile returning to her lips.

“Great, honestly,” Harry nods, letting a short chuckle pass his lips, “my family can be a bit nuts, they love family time and being overbearing with playing silly games or family photos. But, I love it,” Harry explains, smiling.

He thinks about last year, how competitive him and his family got during a game they had played, or how big his mum and gran smiled as they popped Christmas crackers and everyone wore those paper crowns for one of the many photos his mum insisted on taking.

Y/N is mirroring his smile, tucking her mug to her chest as she listens to him. Sounds like a much better time than the memories she has with her parents around the holidays, Y/N thinks feeling a bit jealous - as she did whenever anyone told her of their holiday traditions and such.  She can’t help but notice the distant look in his eyes as he grabs his mug.

“It’s actually the first Christmas I won’t be spending with my family, as I mentioned before,” he states, clearing his throat afterward as the emotions threaten to come in quick. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and points to the TV then. “Should I pull up the movie before we’re sitting here drinking cold chocolate?” Harry asks. Because, truthfully, he could sit here all night and talk about life with Y/N but they had planned to watch a movie.

“Sure,” Y/N smiles, although feeling a bit sad being reminded that Harry wasn’t going home for the holidays. She takes another sip of her drink again, before she’s turning her body to watch the TV screen on the wall as Harry grabs for the remote and finds the Polar Express on demand.

As the movie begins to play, they both get comfortable and sip their hot chocolates till their Christmas mugs are empty. Harry offers to take Y/N’s mug, so she doesn’t have to sit up from the slouched position she’s slipped into in her corner of the couch, placing it beside his on the coffee table before he relaxes back into his spot. It’s about half way through the movie, after they had jokingly sung along with the hot chocolate song of course, when Y/N is nearly laying out on her end of the couch. Harry feels selfish for not offering the side he’s on, as he has his legs stretched out on the chaise of the couch. Y/N slowly lets her legs slip out across the cushion between them till they’re just slightly bent and the fuzzy pink socks on her feet just barely brush Harry’s thigh.

Her toes wiggle a little, tapping against the side of Harry’s thigh ever so gently, but it causes a much less gentle reaction in his body. His stomach fluttering and his heart pounding as he glances at Y/N in the corner of his eye. A feeling of undesirable desire filters through him as she wiggles her toes again before settling her feet hardly even touching him. But it’s more the act of being comfortable around Harry that has him feeling like his heart might explode.

He’s tempted to grab onto her ankles and stretch out her legs completely so her feet would rest in his lap. Maybe he’d rub her calves, hoping the feeling made her stomach flutter as much as his. But he didn’t want to cross any sort of line. So he was content with the tiny bit of contact between them from her feet resting on the side of his thigh as the movie kept playing.

It wasn’t till near the very end that Harry heard a soft snore come from Y/N. He turns his head completely and looks over at her. Her eyes shut, her lips parted slightly, as she laid on her arms folded under her head. Harry isn’t sure how to react here, should he wake her? Or let her slumber because it’s obvious she needs it since she fell asleep during what she claims to be her favourite holiday movie. Harry ponders for a moment before he decides to finish watching the movie. Once it’s finished is when he’d make his decision.

“Y/N,” Harry says as the credits are rolling. She doesn’t move a muscle. “Y/N, darling,” Harry tries again in a gentle voice, placing a hand on her leg and giving her one good nudge. To which Y/N doesn’t respond at all.

That hangover must be hitting her body hard, begging for the sleep she needed to fully recover. So, Harry reaches for the knitted blanket that’s resting over the back of his couch and paces it over Y/N’s body. As he gets up from the couch, he turns back around and looks at Y/N for a moment - taking in her effortless beauty even while she’s sleeping.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, Harry gathers up their mugs, bringing them to his kitchen and quietly rinsing them out before he double checks that the heat is at a reasonable temperature. It was supposed to get rather cold tonight and he didn’t want Y/N to wake up freezing in his home. Once he’s turned off the TV and the only lights left on are from his tree, he turns back to Y/N. The soft glow from the Christmas lights casting over her breathtaking features causes yet another stir of feelings inside his stomach.

He wishes he could bend down, place a soft kiss to her forehead - maybe one day soon he could. Maybe even get to fall asleep next to her, staring at her beauty till he drifted into a slumber as well. But for now, he just quietly walks down the hall to his bedroom and leaves his door open a few inches just in case Y/N woke up in a panic or anything. He’d be a lighter sleeper than usual tonight, thinking about how close Y/N was.

At one point in the middle of the night Y/N woke up. Her eyelids were still heavy as she tried to focus on the space around her. She had fallen asleep during the movie, in Harry’s apartment, on his couch - oh god. A wave of embarrassment washed over her as her eyes flicker from the blank TV screen, to the now empty other side of the couch, before settling on the warm lights of the Christmas tree.

She should get up and head home to her own apartment and not be an idiot who falls asleep on her friend's couch uninvited. Y/N’s fingers curl around the top of the warm blanket that Harry must’ve draped over her before heading to bed himself. The pads of her fingers brush over the soft fabric while her heart beats like crazy in her chest. Harry’s sweetness and well mannered actions shouldn’t surprise Y/N anymore - but they do. She smiles and brings the blanket to her chin, snuggling into the couch once more and tries to not think about how sore her neck and back will be in the morning from sleeping on the couch. Instead she looks at the Christmas tree as her eyelids grow heavy again and she slips back into her dreamstate once more.

The next time she wakes it’s due to the sun peering through the curtains in Harry’s living room. She blinks a few times and brings a hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes. Suddenly she hears a noise coming from a few feet away from her. Y/N’s heart all but leaps out of her chest as she sits up on the couch and looks to where the noise came from. Her wide eyes meet Harry’s equally widened eyes, him pausing mid-movement as he must’ve been grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, bearing his clenched teeth to her in a joking but nervous way. His dimple deepens at the facial expression, Y/N notices it right away even from a room away from him.

“It’s okay,” she replies. Her voice sounds a little scratchy as it’s the first time using it since waking. How utterly adorable, Harry thinks as he smiles at her and sets his mug down at his coffee maker before hitting start. “And I should be the one apologizing, I kinda ended up crashing on your couch uninvited,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair to try and tame it.

“It wasn’t a problem, Y/N, nothing to be sorry about,” Harry tells her, walking towards her till he got to the large threshold between his open concept kitchen and living room. He crosses his arms at his chest and Y/N notices how the muscles in his arms flex immediately. “Must have been a hangover side effect, hm?” Harry questions.

Y/N clears her throat as she tries to not take in Harry’s appearance in the morning but she can’t help herself. He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants with a simple grey t-shirt, white socks covering his feet, and while him dressed down did look hot - it was how his hair looked that really took her breath away. The way it looks much more fluffy than usual, most likely from rolling around in his bed, made her stomach flutter and she ended up biting her bottom lip as he brought a hand up to push back the bit of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Y/N blinks a few times before meeting his gaze again.

“You’d think the nap I took before coming over would help with my hangover but I guess not,” Y/N states, she exhales through her nose and shakes her head before folding her arms over the back of the couch and rests her chin on them. “But again, I’m sorry,” she adds.

“And again, it’s okay,” Harry ensures her, dropping his arms to his sides as he smiles. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate or coffee?” He asks.

“Coffee,” Y/N answers, her voice back to that soft and gentle tone that made Harry’s head spin. He recalls when they first met, and how he wished he could hear her voice each night and morning. His wish is slowly coming true, although he imagines it involving her in bed more often than not. But for now, he’ll take her waking up on his couch any day if it means he gets to hear her voice.

Harry nods and walks back over to where the mug filled of freshly brewed coffee now sat. Y/N tilts her head to the left, still resting her chin on her arms, as she watches Harry move around his kitchen. He calls over his shoulder to ask what she’d like in her coffee, with which she replies ‘two teaspoons of sugar please’ - that earns her a half smile as he glances her way again and mutters ‘why am i not surprised’, causing Y/N to mock a hurt look on her face and gasps.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She questions, watching him stir up the sugar in her coffee. Harry turns and brings the mug over to her, causing her to sit up straight again and grab it from him with both hands.

“It means you love sugar as much as any toddler would, I swear,” Harry teases.

“Something wrong with liking the taste of something sweet?” She questions, raising a brow as she looks up at him from where he stood on the other side of the back of the couch.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat at her choice of words. He immediately wants to answer back with ‘well I want to taste you, all of you, so no’ but instead he holds back his filthy thoughts and gulps. Y/N notices Harry’s Adam's apple bob up and down as she stares up at him through her lashes, slowly bringing the mug he had just given her to her lips to give it a taste. Harry watches her the entire time as she sips the coffee and licks it off her lips. Everything inside of him is begging to touch her. To bring the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, catching the last few drops of her drink off her lip, and bringing it to his mouth to get a taste. Or to just take the mug right back, place it on the closest surface and take her face into his hands to kiss her fiercely.

Harry struggles but pushes away his thoughts once again, for what felt like the millionth time this morning, and raises an eyebrow, “sweet enough for you?” He asks, his voice teasing.

Y/N smiles sweetly and nods once, “it’s perfect, thank you,” she replies.

Harry mirrors her smile before he walks back to his kitchen, only then looking down at his sweatpants to ensure there wasn’t any noticeable bulge. It had taken a few disturbing images in his head to calm himself down and not be sporting a hard on in front of Y/N. But he manages, grabs his own mug - since Y/N now held his typical mug he uses for his morning coffee - and sets it into place.

“Any plans today?” Y/N asks, taking another sip of her coffee and feeling the warmth flood inside of her body. Or maybe that feeling was from how Harry had looked at her just now, she thinks.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head and grabs for his own mug of black coffee. “What about you? No work today?” He asks, bringing the mug to his lips and blowing to cool it down before taking a sip.

Y/N shakes her head and leans back into the side of the couch, “my boss was nice enough to let us have today off, then back in for a few days but Friday, the eighteenth, isn’t really a big work day. We’re having our annual holiday party that night, so we mostly spend the day finalizing any party planning,” she explains to Harry as he leans back against the counter and sips his coffee again.

“Well that’s nice of her to give you the day off, then after the eighteenth are you off work for holidays?” Harry asks.

“Yup,” she nods, “I get two weeks off, back into the swing of things on the fourth of January,” she states.

“Sounds nice,” Harry says with a smile. “I’m jealous you guys have an office Christmas party, my label only really does something for a select group of people. Whoever made them the most money, honestly,” Harry exclaims. What he doesn’t mention is that he had been invited, and has been for the past three years due to his songs hitting it big on radio or on the charts and causing some big ripples for the artists career that had bought them.

“Sounds like the party wouldn’t be all that fun then,” Y/N notes, tilting her head to the side as she watches Harry make his way into the living room and takes a seat on the couch. She tucks her feet up just under her bottom, resting her mug on her knees but still keeping both hands on it of course.

“I’m sure yours is a lot more fun,” Harry nods in agreement.

She should ask him to be her plus one then. But she hesitates, unsure of how he would see her invite. Would he think she’s trying to make it a date? So soon after her break up? Would he think he was being played as her rebound? She would then have to try and cover up that it wasn’t a date, that they could just go as friends, but then she’d sound like she was friend-zoning him and she really didn’t want that. So, while she’s all in her head about what to do, Harry decides to take a chance.

“Did you want to go for a walk around Central Park?” He asks, looking hopefully into Y/N’s eyes. “We can skate there, I’m sure you’ve been but their rink looks like it would be nice too,” Harry suggests.

Her lips tug up into a smile, “yeah, I would love that,” she pauses as her heart pitter patters in her chest at the sight of Harry smiling back at her. “After breakfast though, I’m starving,” she says, being a bit dramatic. But it makes Harry chuckle, which is exactly what she hoped for.

“How do you feel about some chocolate chip pancakes then?” Harry asks, raising a brow as he sits up straight again and mentally goes through the recipe in his head. It typically doesn’t have pancakes, let alone chocolate chip pancakes, but he has a feeling Y/N would like them. Her love for sugar being obvious by now.

“Love them,” Y/N says with a smile still on her lips.

Where did this perfect man come from? Y/N finds herself thinking as she watches Harry get up from the couch and walk back into the kitchen. He sips his coffee as he walks before setting it on the counter.

“I can help if you’d like,” she offers, raising her voice slightly so she knew Harry could hear her.

But Harry dismisses the idea quickly and tells her to just sit back and relax. Any bets on how much longer it took for her to fall for Harry? Y/N thinks, biting her bottom lip as she watches him bend over, peering deep into his fridge as he moves things out of the way in search for whatever he needs. His bum looks rather nice from this angle, she finds herself shamelessly checking him out. Her guess was that it wouldn’t be much longer at all till she fell for him.

“Did you invite him yet?” Sammy asks, biting on his pen as he leans back in his chair. They were waiting in the conference room, along with everyone else that held a higher position at her work, for Amanda to join them and start their final meeting of the year.

“No,” Y/N replies. She shrugs her shoulders and picks at the corner of her notebook.

“And why the hell not?”

“I don’t want to make it weird, bringing him to a work thing and have to explain to everyone how he’s just a friend even though I wish he was more,” she tells Sammy, eyes still on the torn up paper on the table in front of her.

“Well if you don’t invite him then you’re missing the perfect opportunity to make it more than a friendship,” Sammy states, giving her a side eye before he just rolls them and leans forward in his seat again. He leans towards Y/N and looks into her eyes, letting her know he means business. “Talk to him tonight, invite the poor man, and get out of your own head. You don’t have to keep yourself waiting because of what Mark did when you have what you truly deserve right in front of you. Harry makes you happy, I can just tell by the way you smile at your phone or when I see you ditched hanging with me to hang with him and his friends instead,” he says the last bit with sarcastic bitterness.

Y/N lets out a deep breath through her nose and licks her lips. Her brain is running a million miles an hour. As it has been for weeks now, since she met Harry honestly - she just likes him that much. At first she tried to deny it, and last weekend after her sudden break up with Mark she tried to convince herself again that she needed to keep Harry as a friend. But now, now she just wanted him - all of him, all of the time.

“Okay,” Y/N nods.

Sammy’s lips spread up into a wide smile, the look of excitement clear on his face, but to add to it he pumps a fist into the air. Y/N just rolls her eyes and laughs at him. Amanda enters the room soon after, starting up their final meeting of the year. She goes over numbers, stats, comparing last year to this year, and even promotes a few people. Thankfully, Y/N and Sammy are in their ideal positions now, so they never have that nervous feeling of going into a year-end meeting praying for a promotion. But Y/N still grins and claps for her colleagues who are working their way up in the company. After going through some minor details for their annual holiday party tomorrow, Amanda dismisses the team and Y/N is soon after heading home for the day.

Don’t be a pussy. Ask Harry to come to the holiday party or else. Sammy had texted her after they parted ways at the subway. Y/N bit down on her bottom lip, reading over the texts again as the elevator sounds a soft ding! and she walks out onto the sixth floor. Y/N confidently walks on her platform Doc Martin boots passed her own apartment door and right to Harry’s. Lifting her free hand, the other holding her Starbucks holiday drink, she knocks four times on the door before patiently waiting for him to answer. Her heart is beating so loud she can practically hear it ringing in her ears.

Harry answers the door after a few moments, his eyebrows pulling together at the sight of Y/N on the other side. While it’s a delight to see her, they hadn’t planned to hangout at all - so he’s rather surprised to see her standing before him. Y/N smiles and Harry’s quick to mirror it.

“Hey,” she breathes out, the same bundle of nerves that have been with her all day seeming to not relax in the slightest.

“Hey,” Harry smiles, “what’s up?” He asks, leaning against his door.

“Um,” Y/N pauses and closes her eyes, opening them to look at the floor before she takes a deep breath to meet his gaze again. Oh no, Harry thinks, feeling nervous since answering the door as he’s unsure how to take in her nonverbal cues right now. “So, you know that holiday party my work’s having that I mentioned?” Y/N questions, when Harry nods she doesn’t leave another second of hesitation slide by her before continuing. “I was wondering if, maybe, you’re not busy, if you wanted to come with me,” she stumbles out her invitation.

Harry’s truthfully a little surprised by her inviting him. His eyebrows now raised up his forehead as he processes her words. He immediately wants to say yes, obviously. Besides his clear as day feelings for Y/N, he also saw her as a friend too and he would love to accompany her for anything she asked him to.

“Everyone gets a plus one, and I can’t imagine bringing anyone else but you with me. Also, Sammy is practically begging me to introduce you two already,” Y/N exclaims as it seems Harry was in his head for too long. He smiles at her statements. First, blushing slightly at her comment about how she couldn’t imagine inviting anyone but him, and then holding back a chuckle at her mentioning her friend Sammy.

“It’s tomorrow, right?” Harry asks, half to just be sure and half to delay his answer to jokingly stress her out a little maybe.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, biting on her bottom lip for a moment. When Harry’s eyes fall to her teeth nibbling on her pink lips she notices and stops, butterflies present in her stomach at the thought of Harry thinking about her lips.

“I think I’m free,” Harry teases. He brings a hand to his chin, looking up at the ceiling in a joking manner as if he’s pondering what else could be on his schedule for the day. Y/N knows that he’s not doing a whole lot these days, but for all she knows he could have already had things planned with his friends. But Y/N can’t lie - she’s happy to hear he hasn’t.

Y/N chuckles and reaches forward, smacking his arm that’s resting on his chin with a gentle force. Harry chuckles along with her and stops his act as if he’s really thinking about if he can accept her invitation or not. Y/N lets her arms fall back to her side again and smiles, looking into Harry’s dazzling eyes as he smiles back at her. They stand there in his doorway, smiling, for a few beats of silence before Harry tells her.

“You’re going to have to help me with an outfit though,” he says, “there is no way I’m going to a party in New York City that a ton of fashion obsessed people will be at, without your help,” he states. Y/N chuckles again and nods, bringing her Starbucks cup to her mouth slowly.

“I can do that,” she says, tilting her cup to have a sip of the warm liquid.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “and what time will you be picking me up for this date?” He asks jokingly, although a big piece of him is hoping she won’t deny that it’s a date.

Y/N smiles, feeling a blush creeping onto her cheeks, “like, six-ish,” she tells him.

“Sounds good,” Harry says.

“Good,” Y/N nods, a smile still on her lips, “I have to go now though, I have a few presents for my coworkers I need to wrap and some last minute phone calls to make to get things all set for tomorrow,” Y/N explains, taking a few slow steps backwards while her eyes are still glued to Harry’s.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Harry says, his smile never flattening either.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, her stomach in a fit of butterflies as she realizes that she really just invited him to her work party.

Turning on her heels, she hears Harry close his door, and walks to her own apartment to unlock the door. She did it, she’s going to be bringing Harry to a work function - this was kinda big, she realizes, but she’s too excited to worry right now. So, instead she turns on her Christmas playlist on her TV, after she steps out of her shoes and hangs up her coat, and sings along as she sets up her little workstation to wrap a few presents.

Y/N has been running around like a chicken with their head chopped off all day. She was determined to have this holiday party be perfect. Harry was her plus one, she imagined things going so well between the two of them tonight. But then things started to go south the moment she walked into the office this morning and Amanda bombarded her at the front doors, “we were double booked” she had told Y/N. Turns out their location for their party tonight was double booked and the other function had already paid off the business to let them have the space. Therefore having Y/N scrabbling for a place to have this party.

“We should just have it here,” Sammy suggested. 

It was a last resort suggestion, but in reality it could work. The building their office was in had a decent sized room that was used for conferences and such. And after calling the building staff they learnt it wasn’t being used, so they started working on getting that set up.

Y/N was on the phone for hours, making sure the catering and bar services company they hired knew the relocation, and having them show up on time to get the set up going too. Then she was downstairs to help the decorations team replan their set up before she was literally running down the streets to the Target in order to buy new table clothes that would fit the tables the building provided. And somehow, with a little blood and sweat and a few tears shed too, Y/N made it happen.

She lets out a loud deep breath and looks at the room around her. The shimmering lights hanging down from the ceiling, perfectly placed so they wouldn’t hit anyone in the head but still looking very dreamy. There’s one wall full of fresh wreaths, some huge and some small, with matching red ribbons and ornaments on them. It’s picture perfect and Y/N already had taken a short video of them as they were setting it up to post on her Instagram. The way the plain white tablecloths she had bought earlier were now styled with more fresh pine that was used for the wreaths, with a few candles on each table and more red Christmas ornaments too, it all just looked so good. She especially loved the large real Christmas tree that she and Sammy took the time to decorate that sat in the far corner of the room by the gorgeously decorated bar that stretches along the back wall. Overall, it’s fashionable, Instagram worthy, and perfect.

Y/N is about to tell someone hired for the event to add a few more beaded garlands around the entryway when her phone rings. She gives the young woman a smile and holds up a finger while producing her phone that’s in her jean pocket. Looking at the screen she sees Harry’s name at the top, which causes a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She smiles and swipes a finger across the screen to answer his call.

“Hey,” she says, walking away from the people that are rushing around her to finalize the party.

“Hey,” Harry breathes out. Y/N can hear the nerves in the one word. She furrows her brows and begins to worry that maybe he can’t make it anymore, suddenly feeling very upset at the thought. “You’re late,” he states. Y/N’s brows pinch together further and her eyes narrow.

“What?” She questions.

“Well, it’s almost six, and you’re supposed to help me pick something to wear, but I understand if you can’t or don’t want to. I’m sure I can figure something out, but don’t want to make you look bad by bringing a badly dressed bloke to your party,” Harry explains, catching himself sounding a bit needy. He didn’t need her to help style him for the holiday party, but he wanted her opinion of course.

“Oh my god what time is it?” Y/N gasps, asking Harry the question but really more asking herself as she realizes time has slipped by her in the whirlwind that was relocating this party.

“Um, quarter to six,” Harry tells her.

“Shit, H, I’m sorry, I haven’t looked at a clock in hours, I’m still at my office. We had to work fast and relocate the party for tonight, I’ve been so busy I didn’t even realize,” Y/N explains, her eyes searching around the room for either Amanda or Sammy or really anyone that could take over for her to hurriedly get ready.

“Oh, it’s okay, not a problem really,” Harry says, tapping a pen on the notebook that’s in front of him. He had been caught up a bit with his own work too, writing a song.

“Okay,” Y/N sighs, “game plan, you can send me pictures of some things you can wear tonight, I’ll give you my opinion, and then I’ll get ready here and are you okay to meet me in the lobby at seven-thirty?” Y/N asks, finally locking eyes with Amanda across the room.

Amanda’s eyes are wide at the sight of her, arms thrown up into the air as she’s confused as to why Y/N is still here - Y/N may have told her she had to meet up with her new plus one. Amanda was just as excited to meet Harry as Sammy was, damn gossiper had gone and told Amanda all about Y/N and Mark’s breakup and about Harry now too. Y/N had glared at Sammy as Amanda asked a million questions about Harry earlier.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “I can do that, did you need me to bring you anything or are you all set at your office?”

Y/N smiles at Harry naturally asking her if she needed anything from him. “I’m good, I’ll just text you the address and let me know when you’re on the way, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry echoes.

“Okay, I have to go, I’ll see you soon,” she says. Harry says a goodbye before she hangs up the phone just as Amanda is walking up to her.

“What in the world are you still doing here? I thought you were supposed to leave like an hour ago to go get ready and meet up with your new man?” Amanda questions. She is dressed for tonight's festivities, wearing a sparkling silver gown that fit her like a glove. Her hair is out of it’s usual low ponytail and is pin straight. She looks amazing, of course.

“First,” Y/N points a finger, “not my new man, by any means. And second, I got caught up helping with some issues with catering and then I was fixing some lighting issues. I’m going upstairs to get ready, and Harry is meeting me here,” she tells Amanda.

“Go, go,” she shoos her off, “steal a good dress from that room of broken dreams.”

Amanda is referring to the small room upstairs in their office that holds many pieces from over the year that clients didn’t fit, didn’t like, or just simply didn’t get to see. Y/N nods, having already planned to go there, and rushes away to get upstairs and get ready. As she opens the door to the room full of clothing Harry texts her a few pictures of items in his closet he has for tonight.

Her eyes are glued on her screen, attention taken away from her finding something the moment she sees Harry’s name. There’s a black suit laid on his bed in the first picture, the idea of seeing him in a classic black suit and tie has her feeling some type of way, but it’s not the look for tonight. She swipes to the next photo and likes the cream and light blue vertical stripe button up shirt but not the deep purple trousers he paired with them. But in the next picture she really likes the fun look to the trousers, like a sort of grandpa’s sweater vibe with browns and whites in an interesting square pattern. Completely ignoring the black shirt he had paired with it, she texts him back.

Shirt from the second pic and pants from the third one! Trust me! Lol. And here’s the address, she types quickly, sending him her location, before pocketing her phone and turning to the first rack of clothing. Immediately she grabs for a light blue Gucci suit jacket. It would go with Harry’s outfit perfectly, she thinks with a smile, putting it to the side for him. She remembers the suit was too big for a certain younger actor who was hosting SNL last week, Timothee something or another, if she’s remembering correctly.

Y/N goes through what feels like is a hundred dresses, pantsuits, and everything in between before she finds the one she likes. It’s her size, thank god, and isn’t too shimmery and crazy like she feels everyone else will be dressed like. It’s a bit of a darker blue that the colour of the suit jacket she had pulled aside for Harry, with thin straps and a tight torso that had wires for under his boobs for a built in bra type of look. It ends just above her ankles and is embroidered with beautiful beads and stunning flowers and leaf designs. But with a bit of a scandalous look as the embroidery isn’t as crowded near the bottom of the dress and leaves her in a sheer fabric. Overall, she just really enjoys how it looks and feels - and truthfully, she can’t be too picky with such little time to finish getting ready now.

It works out perfectly as she looks over herself in the washroom on the main level, fluffing her hair that she had curled and touching up her makeup, Harry texts that he’s just about to walk inside. Hurrying through out of the washroom, she walks out into the lobby, the black heels she had taken from the heap of shoes upstairs click along the floor as she waves hello and smiles at the people around that she knows. There would be just over a hundred people in attendance for their party tonight, not too big but not too small either, and she was happy to see all the familiar faces she’s gotten to work with over the year. But, there is one face in particular she’s most happy to see.

Only Harry’s not alone. In fact, she shouldn’t be all that surprised to see her best friend had managed to single him out in the small crowd that was waiting to get into the conference room she’s spent all day setting up. She sighs and makes her way towards them, smiling at another colleague that gave her a quick compliment as she passed by. Sammy caught her eye first, noticing how she’s glaring at him but he only smirks back at her.

Then Harry shifts, looking over his shoulder at whatever Sammy is looking at, and he pauses at the sight of Y/N only a few feet away. Holy shit, Harry thinks to himself as he takes in how she looks. The dress fits her flawlessly, accentuating her curves and causing Harry to shamelessly check her out. She’s always beautiful, stunning really, but tonight she looks like she should be a runway model. He feels a bit underdressed beside her, even though she picked out his outfit, even just a jacket would make him feel a little less casual at this event.

“You look,” Harry pauses as he struggles to find the right word. Y/N has stopped now in front of him, hands fiddling with her small clutch resting in front of her. “Just, unbelievable, wow,” Harry finally breathes out. His words cause a warm blush to creep over his face, her eyes falling to the floor to catch his black boots on his feet, as she hides away her grin.

“You look really good, too,” she tells him, although her words are far less swoon worthy than his words. It still causes Harry to smile too, his stomach doing a few flips.

“And how do I look?” Sammy asks jokingly, breaking their moment as they both turn to look at him. He’s smirking and holding out both arms, showing off his sparkling gold suit jacket that he’s worn with some black tight suit pants and a black button up shirt. He looks good, obviously, but Y/N shoulders shake as she chuckles at her friends behaviour.

“You look marvellous,” Harry compliments him with a smile, Y/N looks at Harry and shakes her head.

“Oh, he’s good,” Sammy notes, pointing a finger at Harry but is looking at Y/N. “If you don’t keep him I’ll take him, like that little feeling I get in my stomach when he speaks, hm,” he hums, winking at Harry for good measure too. Both Harry and Y/N chuckle at her friend. Suddenly someone is calling for Sammy’s attention, and of course, he answers to it right away and leaves Y/N and Harry to themselves.

“I’m sorry about him,” Y/N says as they face each other once more, “Sammy can be a lot to handle,” she adds.

“He wasn’t that bad,” Harry assures her.

She hums and smiles, narrowing her eyes at him playfully. “I find that hard to believe, but alright,” she says, “oh! I have something for your outfit,” she mentions, grabbing his arm gently to guide the way to the building's front desk where they had set up a coat check.

Harry’s in his own head about how she so naturally grabbed onto him, her delicate hand wrapped around his arm before dropping down to her side again as she approached the line that was for coat check. He furrows his brows, confused if she was going to ask for the jacket he had brought with him, but instead he watches as she walks around the tables and helps herself to the rack of jackets. She pulls out a light blue suit jacket and smiles over it at him, watching as his eyes widen. He knows the jacket, it was a part of Gucci’s line last season. He had browsed through some Vogue article and loved the colour immediately, how did she know?

“It’s just sitting upstairs, unworn, and it deserves some attention,” Y/N explains, holding it out for him.

“I can just wear this, tonight? No fee?” Harry asks, finding this situation a little unreal honestly.

“Well,” Y/N gives him a smug smile, “how about your fee is a dance with me, later,” she bargains.

“Oh, there will be plenty of dancing, of course,” Harry says. He takes the suit jacket off the hanger, passing the empty hanger back to Y/N and then puts on the jacket. Shrugging his shoulders a few times to get it to sit right on his body, but boy does it ever fit him well. Like it was made for him, honestly. Cause my god does it ever look good on him, Y/N thinks as she watches him straighten out the jacket till it feels comfortable. Harry looks up to see Y/N staring at him, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. He smirks, dimples popping up for show, and it causes Y/N to snap out of it and turn to put the hanger away. She then takes the few steps forward to Harry and smiles while looking up at him.

“You look phenomenal,” Y/N tells him, upping her previous compliment from before. Harry’s heart swells at her words and he extends his bent arm, for her to hold onto his forearm.

“Shall we?” Harry asks, motioning for her to grab onto his arm and walk into the now open doors to her party.

“We shall,” she smiles and puts her hand on his arm to let him guide them into the party she spent all day preparing. Y/N can’t help but notice the looks the people around them are giving her, a few smirks from other girls - with obvious jealousy on their faces. It makes her head spin, realizing that she’s about to be the talk of the office all because of the hot guy on her arm. Little do they know, he’s a lot more than how good he looks in this light blue suit jacket.

It only takes an hour before the rest of the people at the party realize that Harry is more than that pretty face of his.

He charms the socks off of every single person she introduces him to. Not to mention that Sammy is basically attached to his hip, begging for the attention, and Amanda has given Y/N a thumbs up every chance she’s gotten. Which she’s currently doing from the sidelines of the dance floor as Y/N is dancing around with Sammy, Harry and a few others now a few hours into the party. Y/N chuckles, the few tequila drinks making her feel a bit giggly, as she throws her head back and sways to the music. Harry’s watching her, admiring how carefree she looks as she dances to the music. Not an ounce of worry of any judgement from her coworkers around her.

“Y/N,” a colleague of hers comes up, putting a hand on her arm to get her full attention. She smiles as she meets her eyes. “Merry Christmas love, I’m going to head out with my husband, who very much loves your new boyfriend by the way,” she explains, mirroring Y/N’s smile. Harry is distracted, dancing with Sammy, and thankfully doesn’t hear her comment.

“Oh! He’s not my boyfriend,” she informs her, for probably the third time tonight. But her older colleague, Heidi, is rather forgetful when she has a few glasses on wine - something she’d learnt over the few years of working together. “Also, I have a present for you, just wait here and I’ll go get it and be right back I promise,” Y/N assures her, giving her a pout for good measure.

Heidi sighs but is still smiling, “fine, I’ll wait,” she nods.

Y/N is walking passed Harry, causing him to pinch his brows together and reach out for her. Through the night they didn’t leave each other's side, even when one of them had to use the washroom they let each other know. His hand is gentle, grasping onto her arm as she’s about to walk away, and pulling her to look his way. Y/N matches his look of confusion but smiles at the little pout on Harry’s lips at the sight of her leaving the dance floor without him.

“Where are you going?” He asks, bending his head down closer to her. His breath is warm against the skin, his lips mere inches from her ear. A chill falls over her as she looks back into his enchanting eyes.

“Upstairs, I need to grab something,” she states.

“Oh,” Harry pauses, “okay,” he says, still looking into her eyes. They were so beautiful, she’s so beautiful.

“Did you want to come with me?” Y/N asks. She doesn’t know why she does, maybe because she doesn’t want to leave Harry’s side for a single second or maybe her buzz from the tequila is making her brave. She imagines some alone time with Harry for the first time tonight would be nice.

Harry nods and slowly lets his hand drop from her arm to her hand. Their fingers intertwining like it's natural, ignoring the wide eyed look from Sammy, and Y/N leads the way out of the room and into the lobby. Harry thinks she’ll drop his hand once they reach the elevator but she doesn’t. It’s like a volcano of butterflies has erupted in his stomach. Feeling bold, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand a few times as he inhales her sweet smelling perfume as she stands so close to him while waiting for the elevator doors to open.

Every moment they’ve had together tonight has been amazing, the same longing looks and full smiles between them but were always surrounded by others. Seems Y/N is rather popular at her place of work, everyone wants to hang around her and he’s been introduced to more people than he can count. Although Y/N did whisper in his ear “Sammy and Amanda are the only ones you really need to remember”, thankfully. But he really is having a good time as they enjoyed a quick meal at the beginning of the night, talking amongst the people at their table, then when that was finished up the wine was replaced with harder alcohol and things got pretty wild. Turns out these New Year City fashion obsessed people knew how to party and it wasn’t all gossip and trends with them. Harry was finding himself laughing, dancing and feeling more free than he had in quite a while. And maybe the tequila drinks he’s been sipping was helping, as he actually ended up liking Y/N’s drink of choice.

“Everyone loves you,” Y/N states, breaking the silence just as the elevator opens and they step inside. Harry smirks and lets her step up to hit the button inside, using her free hand as they still are holding each other. Their hands hang in the air as she steps forward, hitting the button, and then steps back to be right beside him.

“Glad my charm could be of use to impress your coworkers,” Harry says, making Y/N smile but rolls her eyes as she squeezes his hand that still holds her. They’re holding hands! Don’t freak out! Y/N is internally screaming at herself.

“Cheeky,” Y/N teases, using his word back at him finally. Although all those times he’s texted her ‘cheeky’ or ‘cheeky girl’ she does get butterflies in her stomach.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, huffing out a chuckle while raising his eyebrows.

Y/N laughs and Harry pulls on her hand that he’s holding to bring her even closer to him. Their sides touch, her bare arm brushing against the suit jacket, and she swore a spark of electricity shot through them as they were now leaning against one another. She looks from their feet, toe to toe, to how her bent knee just barely strokes against his pants, then looking at their conjoint hands - Harry still rubbing his thumb against her warm skin every once in a while - all the way up to meet Harry’s eyes. His face is so close, only a few inches away from hers. Y/N’s breath gets caught in her throat, her lips parting as she inhales slowly while looking into Harry’s eyes. Are they about to kiss? Both Harry and Y/N’s thoughts are swarming with the idea of their lips pressing together and sharing their first kiss right here, right now in this elevator-

A sudden ding! causes them to blink out of whatever trance they were in. Y/N turns her head to watch the doors open onto her office floor, only a few dim lights are kept on during the night hours so it looks a bit different than during the day. Harry’s only watching her though. Taking in every inch of her lips. The curve of her cupids bow, the pout of her bottom lip. How good the red lipstick still looks even hours later since their night has gone on. Oh how he wants to mess up that red colour, smearing it with his own lips, he’s in his head with many thoughts as Y/N tugs on his hand to bring them out of the elevator and into the main area of the office.

She has to let go of Harry’s hand to enter in the code to the main doors for their office that are frosted glass, beside the large desk that their secretary answers calls and logs in clients entering for any appointments. The sleek look from the large frosted glass doors and all white marble flooring and white desk compliments the big block letters of their company name that have neon lights behind it. Currently the colours were red and green, glowing with full holiday cheer as Y/N loved so much.

Harry’s watching Y/N, her slight sway to her body as she pushes open the door and holds it open for Harry to walk through. He nods and smiles, then let's Y/N lead the way. While her office floor is all very exciting and professional, he’s more focused on Y/N. She’s talking about how she had bought some gifts for her coworkers and got so busy today she forgot a few. Harry was in awe of her and how she managed to pull off the relocation of this party so quickly. Amanda and many others were praising her all night, which Y/N would only respond by shaking her head and brushing off their kind words. He admires that about her a lot, how she is confident but doesn’t let people’s praises go to her head by any means.

As Y/N is walking across the room to her desk, something catches Harry’s eye. He pauses, double checks that Y/N isn’t watching him, and then leans over to the bulletin board at some random desk. With one swift movement he rips it off and then quickly stuffs it into the pocket of his jacket before he turns around to find Y/N at what he assumes is her desk. It’s a large white desk, up against the floor to ceiling windows, it’s quite the view - but, again, his eyes are only on her.

“Okay, so this one’s for Heidi, and then this one is for her and her husband,” Y/N is rambling aloud as she reaches under her desk for the few last presents she had. The only other one was for Sammy, so she should bring it down with her too to catch him before either of them leaves.

She stands up straight again, putting the presents on the desk when she looks over her shoulder at Harry. He’s staring, which isn’t new, but it still makes her smile and her head to spin knowing that his eyes always seem to be on her. But it’s the mischievous smile across his lips that brings Y/N to a stop, pinching her eyebrows together as she tilts her head to the side.

“What’s with the look?” Y/N asks, getting right to the point.

Harry raises a brow and jokingly says, “what look?”

Y/N just rolls her eyes and hums, pushing her hair over one shoulder as she turns her body towards Harry. She crosses her arms over her chest and Y/N doesn’t miss how his eyes drop to her movements for a split second before meeting her eyes again. She feels like she’s on fire under his stare, the burn so deep within her only blazing when he licks his lips. This is it, this is the moment, Harry thinks before he can second guess himself. He takes a step forward, standing so close to Y/N that the toes of their shoes touch and she has to look up into his piercing stare now.

Y/N notices him reach into his pocket, and then just as quickly, he takes his hand out and holds it above them. She furrows her brows, looking up to see something green between his fingers. Her heart stops, her breath getting caught in her throat as she inspects the item more. But when Harry clears his throat, her attention falls back into him. His beautiful green eyes look a bit nervous, it’s adorable, Y/N thinks.

“Can I kiss you underneath the mistletoe, Y/N?” Harry asks, his voice in that now familiar and warm low tone.

Y/N is pretty sure Harry can hear her heart beating out of her chest right now. She stares back into his eyes, feelings for this man hitting her like a wrecking ball. Y/N has never felt something so strong for someone before. And Harry standing here, holding mistletoe, asking to kiss her, it by far one of the most romantic things ever. Unsure she can find her voice, Y/N settles with nodding her head twice and never letting her eyes fall off Harry’s. His lips turn ever so slightly upwards, smiling, before he takes a deep breath and leans forward and both their eyes flutter shut as the moment they both have dreamt of is becoming a reality.

When their lips finally touch it feels like time itself stops around them. Like no one else or nothing else matters in the world but them in this moment right here. Y/N’s heart hasn’t settled one bit, and her knees feel weak as Harry’s free hand gently touches her hip to steady them both. She tries to ignore the touch and instead focus on how soft his lips feel against hers. The feeling flares the burn she feels around him and only amplifies at how addicting his kiss is.

But it was clear, Y/N and Harry both could never dream up a kiss was perfect as this one. Harry’s pure raw emotion that he feels as he decides to pull back from the kiss, to look at Y/N with his eyes only half open, he just had to make sure he wasn’t imagining any of this. But she’s just as beautiful with her swollen lips and half open dreamy eyes as he had thought.

This time Y/N pulls Harry down by wrapping both arms around his shoulders, nudging his head down to meet her halfway and get lost in their kissing again. Harry now is clenching the plastic mistletoe in one hand while both his hands curl up at her hips. With every second, every smell of her rose perfume filling his nose, he’s sure he’ll wake from this dream at any time. The twisting in both their stomachs don’t settle as the kiss continues, Y/N’s lips parting slightly as she breathes out a small gasp when they both pull each other even closer.

Their bodies are basically molding into one, Y/N’s hair falling into their face as she tugs him even closer if it’s possible. But Harry quickly reacts and brings the hand without the mistletoe up, carding his fingers through her locks and bringing the hair away from their moving lips before he rests his hand on her cheek. The only reason that they both pull apart the second time is because they need air - both their chests are heaving against one another as they struggle to catch their breath.

Y/N could never describe the sensations she was feeling in the fleeting second after their kiss. She opens her eyes, looking at Harry’s chest as it rises and falls in quick motions, before she slowly raises her gaze. There’s a pit in her stomach, feeling a bit nervous to meet his eyes after such a passionate kiss. So she takes her time, her eyes scanning over Harry’s face. His sharp jaw, clenching as he watches her. She smiles at the sight of her red lipstick just faintly smudging against his own lips. Finally, she lifts her eyes and meets his stare.

“Amazing,” Harry breathes out, his breath fanning over her lips.

“Breathtaking, actually,” Y/N corrects him, lifting her lips into a bit of a cheeky smile. Harry huffs out a chuckle and smiles, squeezing her side as he lets his hand drop from her face. He seems like he might step away, but Y/N doesn’t want their little bubble to burst quite yet. So she pouts and rubs her thumb over the side of his neck slowly. “Kiss me again, please,” she says in a soft voice.

“Always, darling,” Harry tells her and brings both his hands up to cup her face, tilting her head back just slightly in order to place his lips over hers again. Their kiss only last for another moment before Y/N gets a sudden prick to her cheek, causing her to break away and furrow her brows.

“What the-?” Y/N pauses as she takes Harry's hand and uses her fingers to pry back his own. A giggle passes her lips as the sight inside his hand. She takes the plastic green leaves and red berries. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she tries to hold back the laughter bubbling inside of her.

“What?” Harry questions, letting Y/N take the mistletoe out of his hand.

“Harry,” she sighs and looks up at him, “this is holly, not mistletoe,” she explains. It’s a common misconception, truly, but it only makes the moment they just had all that more special.

Harry’s cheeks heat up instantly at her words. Pure embarrassment washing over him as he didn’t even realize his mistake. His whole big romantic gesture now in the ruins because they kissed underneath holly not mistletoe. Harry shakes his head and reaches for the holly in Y/N’s hand, but she moves faster and closes her hand around it - not caring that it pokes her palm. He is the one to pull together his eyebrows now, meeting her eyes.

“No, it’s okay,” she admits to him, placing the holly carefully on her desk without looking away from Harry’s eyes. “I don’t care that you made a common mistake, don’t beat yourself up about it,” she says, bringing her free hand to brush against his warm red cheeks. “It was-” she pauses and lets out a deep breath, “you’re perfect, H,” she says.

“No, you are,” he declares, meeting her halfway again to crash their lips together once more.

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until part 5 😘

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

[hyunjilicious]

bath time [henry cavill]

A/N: Ok, i wanted to make this as domestic as possible, so basically this is just plotless SMUT + a fair amount of sex talk. Also, for the sake of this one shot, imagine Henry is not famous. It’ll make sense later. That being said, I hope you’ll enjoy this, and please don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought! (4.5k)

-

"There are literal drops of sweat rolling down my sides" you huffed, throwing your bag onto the floor and kicking off your shoes.

Behind you, Henry sighed as he closed the door. As soon as you heard the lock click, you turned to see him shuffling out of his shirt. It was a swift motion; just a half second after he grabbed the back of his collar and until the material was off of his body and all crumpled up in his hand. "You got nothing on me, love" he shook his head.

Even in the darkness of your entrance hallway, you could see faint traces of light reflect from tens and tens of sweat droplets all over his body. The curls that would normally frame his face were now glued to his forehead, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought he had just gotten out of the shower.

"Has it ever been this hot?" you mumbled, rushing into the living room and turning on the air conditioning. "Like, is this normal?"

"Normal?" Henry laughed, walking past you and into the kitchen, "Most likely not. But I think we should get used to it"

"I'm sorry, mother nature" you whispered, moving towards him.

You settled against one of the counters, and watched Henry rummage through the fridge. "Have you heard about Costa Rica?" he asked over his shoulder.

"No... What about it?"

"Apparently-" he said, straightening his back and closing the fridge. He handed you one bottle of water, and as you opened yours, he placed his’ against his chest, and rolled it down his abdomen. What a sight, but he didn't seem to have done it on purpose. "They're gonna be the first country in the world to completely free themselves of single use plastics and fossil fuel. In 2017 I think, they ran on 100% renewable energy for 300 days"

"Can we move there?" you asked, "That's incredible"

"I hope it's true and that they keep this going" he sighed, and finally opened up his bottle to take a sip.

By now, the cool air from the AC had barely started to reach you, but your body temperatures were already starting to drop. You decided to hop into the shower, and Henry affirmed he was going to do the same after he unpacked the bags. Although you felt a bit guilty letting him do this all by himself, you figured you'd be even eventually, since you were the one to cook dinner that night.

You didn't bother to grab any clothes before heading into the bathroom. You just walked in, turned on the water, threw all your clothes onto the floor and jumped into the shower. It felt heavenly. For a few minutes, you didn't even move, just allowed the water to drip down your body and wash away all the layers of sweat you had acquired during your morning errand run. 

Just when you grabbed the soap, you heard the bathroom door open, "Yeah?" you mindlessly called, assuming Henry must be needing something from his cabinet.

Nonchalantly, he just walked inside, not even bothering to look at you. He just sighed with relief and started unbuttoning his jeans.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, expecting him to just grab something and then leave.

With obvious surprise on his face, he raised his gaze, “Getting ready to shower?”

“Here?” 

He stopped dead in his tracks, his pants hanging onto his thighs for support as he had already undone and unzipped them. “Is this a problem? Do you want me to leave?”

Judging by the look in his eyes, he seemed a bit offended, but still willing to give you the privacy he thought you wanted.

“No, no.. Don’t leave, what the-” you chuckled, pulling the curtain to the side as an invitation for him to join you, “Just thought you were gonna shower in the other bathroom that’s all”

“What would I do that?” Henry shook his head, shuffling out of his jeans, “I can go if you want me to-”

“Jesus christ, Henry” you scoffed, and waved your arms for him, “Just come here”

“Why are you acting weird?” he laughed, taking off his underwear and walking towards you. He stopped just before stepping inside the shower, and looked at you with a devilish smirk on his lips, “Did you do something stupid?”

“I didn’t oh my god” you rolled your eyes and grabbed his forearm.

He followed your guide and stepped in. As you raised your hand to reach for the soap on the corner shelf, Henry wrapped his arms around you from behind. The water hadn’t yet reached his body, but he was still a bit damp and a lot sticky.

You let out a shriek, “I think we know who won the sweating contest”

“Of course I won, love” he laughed, burying his head into your neck. He spoke softly, in a low tone, but he did it so that his breath fanned directly against your neck, “Didn’t think there was any question about it”

“It was worth a shot” you laughed and turned around in his hold.

You took a few careful steps backwards, and pulled him after you. Leaning against the tiles, you stood and watched him walk directly into the water stream. It poured down his body, along his sides and down every calloused dimple of his frame. With your eyes trained on his body, you reached out and handed him the bar of soap, “Wash yourself for me, please”

“I take it I should put on a show” he laughed and you just nodded.

And he did try. “Ok, but like gimme a second to prepare” he commanded, pointing a finger at you.

“Whatever you need” you giggled and watched him grab a lufa, soaking it in ridiculous amounts of shower gel. He looked up at you, grinning proudly as he pushed his hair away from his face.

What you expended him to do was to sensually rub that sponge all over his body and have your mouth water in an instant. However, he had other plans. Henry held the eye contact as he closed the distance between the two of you, pressing you all the way back and against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall. 

“I know it’s not what you were waiting for” he chuckled in your ear, “But I think you’ll like this better”

There was no actual reason for you to argue and try to convince him otherwise, so you just hummed in agreement. He took it as his cue to get going, so his arms snaked around your frame, meeting at the base of your spine. The atmosphere, the hot water, his body so close to yours - everything was working on making this moment as intoxicating as possible.

You felt the soothing material rub against your back as Henry pushed his hands upwards along your spine. In the meantime, his lips pressed against the side of your neck, fervidly kissing away all your self control. 

“Ok, ok-” you moaned, tilting your head to the side. Your words were molded by the smile on your lips, “I see you, ok”

Henry kissed his way back up to your lips, “I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad it’s working”

“Oh, it’s definitely working” you eagerly nodded. He happily attacked your lips with another kiss, and you almost gave in entirely. Without any warning, he went full in, his tongue lewdly parting your lips, tasting you with no trace of hesitation. You arched your back against him, and in response, a soft moan escaped his throat. For a short while, he kept the message going, the rough touch of the lufa awakening your senses. It was nice while it lasted, but when he dropped it, you didn't feel like complaining. 

His rough palms pressed against the skin of your back, lustfully caressing their way up your spine. Pure, lascivious need dripped from his lips, suffocating you in the immense pleasure he was able to lay upon you, even through just a kiss.

As caught up in the moment as you were, your reality was instantly shaken up by the feeling of his cock fiercely twitching against your thigh. Not even a moment’s worth of hesitation followed, as you suggestively dragged your right palm down his callused body, only to grip his hardening member into your hand.

Henry gulped deeply into the kiss, his lips freezing for a second. Allowing his forehead to fall against yours, he spoke with his eyes closed, “You’re asking for it”

The threat came in what was probably the most sexual way possible, but he meant it. As crazy as you were about shower sex, it was a no go. You and Henry have been dating for almost three months now, and even with all the lube in the world, shower sex was still off limits. This was one of the very few moments it came as a bother, because you two never encountered a situation where you couldn’t find a place to do it.

“It won’t hurt to try” you suggestively brought your lips between your teeth, looking up into his eyes through your lashes. 

As you spoke, your hand traveled along his cock, with the profound intention to get him to agree.

“It probably will, darling” Henry chuckled, along with a knowing shake of his head, “Just let me wash you, yeah? And we’ll finish this later”

“Or I could just finish this now” you smiled, the grip of your fingers tightening ever so slightly around his cock, “Please?”

“Can you not?” he laughed, “I’m-”

Seeing him about to disagree, you lustfully guided your thumb along the slit of his penis, moving it back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace. It was enough to get him to shut up.

“Fuck-” Henry grunted. His hands slammed into the wall on either side of your head in hopes of finding another source of balance, while his head urgently fell back.

“Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me” you smiled, fisting his cock into your hand.

Feeling his member harden against your palm made your mouth water. Directly in your line of sight, you could see Henry’s chest, vehemently rising and falling, as water dripped down his skin. His flexed arms framed your body, trapping you between his massive figure and the wall, and it all worked in your advantage. 

“Look at me, baby” you smiled, nudging the side of his abdomen.

Less than a muscle put at work, his head fell forward as if it was the most difficult task in the world. Henry watched you from under a pleasure induced frown, a vulgar color tinting his cheeks towards the most errotic shade of red.

“Go on, love” he encouraged you, as if needed.

The pleasure was all yours. The choked back moans that would manage to escape his throat were all you needed in return. Despite the warm water that was pouring on top of your bodies, his breath was coarsely hot, fanning against your lips.

Picking up your pace, you could feel his cock getting harder by the second.

Cupping his cheek into your free hand, you effortlessly guided him to meet your lips. Although covered in miniature droplets of water, his lips were dry under the strain you put on him. You worked him up beyond expectation, feverishly consuming his whole self control.

A soft purposeful moan from you and into his mouth was the last drop, “Angel-” he whimpered.

“I got you, baby” you teased, speaking lewdly against his lips.

Looking down between your bodies, your eyes landed on his inflamed tip, ripe precum dripping onto your fingers for the shortest of seconds, before being washed away by the endlessly pouring water.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” you moaned, consuming his remaining ounces of vigor as you worked devious amounts of pressure against his slit.

Bottom lip tortured between two rows of merciless teeth, all Henry managed to give you was a nod. A nod of approval, one which brought a smile to your lips.

“Come on” you deplored, crying your words without any kind of shame, “I want your cum, baby, give it to me”

“Fucking hell!” Henry groaned, rubbing his forehead against his shoulder, “Really want it, huh? Couldn’t fucking wait to get out of the shower?”

“Nope”

“Better get on your knees then” 

Vividly maintaining the eye contact, you lowered yourself in front of him. You opened your mouth, getting ready for him, but you weren’t there yet.

Henry wrapped his hand into your wet hair, pulling you towards him as he took a few steps back. His cock hung proudly in its full glory inches away from your starved lips, but you decided to wait patiently like you know he loves so much.

With his fingers still gravely tormenting your roots, Henry made you look up. The fervor in his eyes was reflected in the length his cock had reached. “Tongue out, angel. And look at me, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly.

Henry worked himself through the remaining energy he had left, fisting his cock with nowhere near as much lust as you did just minutes before. But you were on your knees, mouth open and tongue out like the good girl he loves to fuck so much, so it was only a matter of time until he pushed himself over the edge.

He didn’t cum without a warning, that came in the form of a harsh tug of your hair.

In waves, his cum coated your tongue. The water was still full on pouring behind you, yet all that was audible were his moans, and the plethora of curse words he found suitable to express himself.

“Jesus, fuck-!” Henry cried, mercilessly pumping his cock.

He was nearing the end of his high, but he kept going. The sight of you proudly swallowing his cum added to his pleasure, forcing his head back, “Fuck… Y/n…”

Your teasing side awakened, and in the head of the moment, you pushed yourself up, circling your lips around his tip, sucking the last droplets of his juice directly into your mouth.

As soon as he finished, Henry collapsed against the wall by his side, panting heavily, eyes trained somewhere on the other side of the bathroom.

“Thank you, daddy” you laughed, choosing his thighs as the perfect element of stability to help you stand up. You happily kissed his lips as soon as you reached his level.

“Oh, this is nowhere near done, baby girl” Henry taunted, effortlessly spinning you around and slapping your ass, “Out”

“What do you mean out!?” you questioned confused.

You tried to turn around, but Henry forced you out of the shower, stepping out right after you.

“We’re changing bathrooms,” he said sternly.

“Why?”

“As cute as I think it is that your pussy is too tight for my cock-”

“It’s the water!” you protested, slapping his hand, “My pussy is just fine”

“Your cunt is perfect, I never said it wasn’t,” Henry laughed, kissing your lips, “But I got an idea, so now go and run a bath”

“What’s this idea?” you asked as you started to walk out of the bathroom.

“What does it matter? You’re always down for everything I want”

“Oh god” you exclaimed, the way he worded it making your cheeks catch on fire.

“Isn’t it true?” Henry teased, slowly approaching you.

“When you put it like that…”

“Go” Henry shook his head. He slapped your bare ass before you two parted ways, “I’ll be right there”

And you did as told, forcing every brain cell in your being to not buzz with anticipation. Things with you were new anyway, but him acting like this brought upon you a whole new feeling that ached all the way down between your legs. Working on autopilot, you ran the bath, added some random and forgotten bath salts to the mix, and about ten minutes later Henry joined you. The light here was dim, contouring the perfect romantic atmosphere you knew had no place in the room right now. 

“Come here” Henry encouraged.

He was sitting down at the end of the tub, the water reaching up to barely cover his abdomen. You obediently crawled over, on all fours, stopping only when your face was inches away from his.

The salacious smile on his lips should’ve come as a warning, but you were too out of it, so when his hand brushed against your inner thigh, all your senses went crazy. He wasted no time before finding your pussy, probing your folds for just a second before slamming his pointed fingers inside of you.

“Fuck” you panted, squeezing your eyes shut, the impending feeling of his fingers filling you up having an unanticipated effect on you.

“Look at me” Henry commanded, roughly gripping your chin into his hand, “None of that, love, ok? I know you can take my fingers”

With tears of ecstasy coating your eyes, you nodded your head up and down, biting harshly into your bottom lip.

“How’s it feel?” he asked proudly, his grin worth a million words, “You’re already wet as fuck”

“Feels fine” you breathed, getting used to the feeling.

“Fine won’t do, darling” Henry shook his head.

This time, when he kissed you, he shoved a third finger inside your cunt, making you gasp directly against his lips. The pain of the impact dissipated quickly, as Henry pressed his thumb against your clit, working experienced circles against it. 

“Hmph, Henry-” you cried, falling forwards to hide your in the crook of his neck.

“That’s it, love” he encouraged, caressing your side, from your hip up to your breasts with his free hand, all while maintaining the pace of his fingers on your pussy. His movements were aggressive and impatient, pushing your buttons and spreading your boundaries beyond control.

“Oh, god- I- what-” you moaned. 

Complete randomness, and it for sure wasn’t meant to make any sense either. The experience in its whole was new and so was the feeling that was forming inside your belly.

“Cum on my fingers, Y/n, ok? Don’t hold back.”

“Ok, fuck” you whined, arching your back as you white knuckled the edge of the bathtub for support.

Henry picked up his pace, roughly fucking you pussy with the kind of roughness you didn’t think you’d ever find enjoyable. Yet there you were, a moaning mess, squirming uncontrollably as you waited for an orgasm to calm the fire in your veins. 

“How come I’ve never had you ride my fingers before?” Henry chuckled, the arrogance of his tone twisting your stomach into a knot, “No fucking work for me, and I get to see you like this?”

After processing his words and allowing your mind to soak up the dominance in his voice, a loud moan escaped your throat. You tried to muffle it by slapping your hand on top of your mouth, but you were too late.

“Don’t do that” Henry said, ushering you hand away, “Think I didn’t feel your pussy clench around my fingers?”

“Oh- This is just, Henry, what are- fuck.. I’m so close”

“Cum, doll” he taunted, grabbing your chin again. He slammed his fingers deeper inside your cunt, spreading your walls and putting pressure against all your spots, “Make a mess of my fingers, love”

And that was it. The last drop. The last profanity your mind was able to take before slipping down a spiral of endless pleasure. Your reality distorted to the point where the only thing you felt was the urgent touch of his fingers. And he worked you until he saw every last drop of pleasure leave your body, and it still wasn’t enough. As satisfying and exhausting at it was, you were not ready to have his fingers leave your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” Henry said, his voice managing to bring you back to reality.

You licked your lips, uselessly trying to moisten your mouth, “Yep.. yeah..”

As you came down from your high, you cuddled into his chest. The water around you was starting to get cold, but you didn’t care, and neither did Henry.

“You good?” he questioned, the warmth of his tone coming in perfect contrast with the taunting attitude he had been displaying in the past minutes.

“So good” you smiled, content.

“Up, then” Henry laughed, slapping your hips.

Reluctantly, you did so but not without a whine, “Why?” 

“I wanna see if you can take me now”

Your heart panged, and you felt like hesitating, but the mere thought of him stretching you up beyond your limits excited you. “Just- go slow, yeah?”

“I won’t do anything you’re not ready for, angel” Henry assured you, guiding your hips so that your opening aligned with his already hard again member, “I’ll just slip my cock inside, and let you adjust, that’s all”

“That’s all?” you questioned, unable to hide your faint disappointment.

“I’ll do more if you can take it” he chuckled, “But if you can’t, I’ll stop and we’ll get out so I can properly fuck you in the bedroom”

“Ok, I’m not made of glass!”

“We’ll see”

“Stop!” you laughed, “It makes me feel like this inexperienced little girl”

“How is that not a turn on?” Henry questioned, “I don’t get it”

“Well, I’m not one”

“You’re not a slut either, but we both know how much you love it when I call you that”

“So what do you prefer?” you laughed, “A slut or an inexperienced girl?”

“You know what I fucking prefer, Y/n?” Henry spoke, loud and clear, after taking a deep breath of air, “I prefer my girlfriend who wakes up at 6am everyday to work on her PhD but deepthroats my cock before lunch like her life depends on it”

“Oh wow” you giggled, “I did not expect-”

“What didn’t you expect, hm?” Henry interrupted you, “Didn’t expect me to want to fuck your brains out every time I see you in a pencil skirt and heels? Or that half the time I look at your lips I think about shoving my cock down your throat? Or that the fact that you’re 7 fucking years younger than me and working on your fourth degree, turns me the fuck on?”

“Then fuck me” you said, “Now, rough me up, I can take it”

“Another thing you might not have expected-” Henry grinned, guiding his cock to your entrance and tracing it back and forth, “The fact that I still don’t think you’ll be able to take me, turns me on more than thinking you might be able to”

With your heart on fire, you leaned in, trapping his face in between your palms. He welcomed you mouth open, tongue ready to take control, as his hands settled on your hips.

You concentrated your mind on the kiss, on his taste and on the feeling of his tongue wagging dominantly against yours, while he sank his fingers into your flesh, pushing you down against his cock.

When his tip pushed past your folds, you whimpered against his lips, but none of you showed any signs of wanting to stop. You kept lowering yourself, the stinging sensation between your legs only growing more and more intense with every other inch of his’ you’d take in. Henry kept kissing you, peppering the moment with the occasional lip bite that only worked in your favor.

The way he moaned against your lips, the way you felt his throat vibrate with every grunt he released, made you more and more eager.

“So, so, fucking tight, fuck” Henry groaned, “Fuck me”

You nodded yes, sharing the feeling with him. Your eyes were covered in unshed tears, as the hazardous feeling between your legs only intensified. 

“Are you ok?” he asked as soon as you completely lowered yourself onto his cock.

“Yeah” you said, “This is actually nice. Kinda”

“Come here” he cooed, motioning for you to lay down against his chest. As soon as you did, the stinging sensation between your legs blew up. On the other end of the spectrum, Henry threw his head back, moaning out loud.

“That good, huh?” you teased.

“Fuck, love” Henry chuckled in disbelief, “Your pussy was made for me and I don’t wanna hear otherwise”

“No one’s gonna tell you otherwise, baby” you giggled, “Don’t want any man to think about fucking my mouth other than you”

“Good,” Henry said sternly.

“Doesn’t it turn you on though?”

“What?”

“Think about other men wanting me but I’m all yours?” you asked, your voice a bit lower.

As he put his thoughts together, Henry closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek and chin, “Depends”

“On what?”

“Now I’d fuck your brains out while some dude watched and cursed that he’s not me. But I can’t promise that this will always be the case”

“Do you get jealous easily?”

“You got up at 7 this morning to come with me and wait in a line for 3 hours just so I can get one piece of paper” Henry said, “Pretty sure I don’t have any reason to be jealous yet”

“Aw, this is so sweet” you gushed, leaning down to kiss him again. By now the water was dead cold and the feeling between your begs was starting to dissipate, but your mind was in a different place, “You were so cute and now I don’t wanna say what I had in mind”

“Oh god” Henry chuckled, shaking his head, “By all means, please, tell me”

“Ever tried Chatmix?”

“No, what’s that”

“Well…” you hesitated, “It’s a site.. Where people go and masturbate together”

His face fell, “And what do you exactly wanna do?”

“I want you to fuck me while strangers watch”

For a second, he failed to answer, but eventually, a smile creeped up on his lips, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah… I mean no one would know who we are and I think it’s really hot to like you know… I mean.. I just think it would be hot to have people watch us.. And see how good you fuck me, and how I do whatever you tell me because, I don’t know... I’m your good girl…? and I want people to like see how you… own me?”

The color on Henry’s cheeks drained. All the life in his features wilted away, and for a second you couldn’t believe how badly you just fucked up. But the warm tone in his eyes soon got replaced by a wicked shade of carnal blue, and the corners of his mouth tilted upwards, proving that you might have just been wrong. Before he opened his mouth to speak, you felt a faint pang deep in your belly.

“Did you cock just twitch?”

Henry cleared his throat, “Chatmix you said?” 

“Yes”

“Do you wanna-” he started asking, voice an octave higher.

“Like right now?”

“Yeah? Or not-”

“We should” you affirmed.

Henry nodded, seemingly deep in thought.

“Did you cock just twitch again?”

“Ok, let’s go”