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sushirrrry · 1 year ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shall we get to work then?"

__________________

"This coffee is fucking cold."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Felicity, please meet me in my office."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She lived for the hope of it all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was inevitable, she thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now, surely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who?" She questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The necktie around her took his focus back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________

hiiiii!!

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

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

love u as always

- emily

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urstruly-ghst · 4 months ago

Text

have you ever tried this one ?! - 3rd years

in which you remember the song 'juno' and start to perform in your bedroom. forgetting you invited someone over.

author's note: (not edited, just thoughts) i promise, im trying to churn the fics. but hehe... i got the idea from my brainrot of crowley bringing your world's music to you.

content: can be read platonic/romantic (leaning on romantic), gn! reader, suggestive (its juno positions, what did u expect ?!)

As you stay in the privacy of your own room, you remember the old playlist Crowley gave you. You roll your eyes, out the of the many ways Crowley can help... He brings you music? He stresses that "It is a good way to connect with your home! And, who knows, this is a key to get you back?"

He said that and still insists he can't find a way. However, one step closer, right? You sigh and look at the limited music that was summoned. Looking at the music choices, you laugh as you saw "Juno." You decide to chime in and remember how you performed it back in your own privacy.

"Have you ever tried this one?" You say in a very flirty tone as you strike a pose, similar to what Sabrina would do in her tour. Mortified, you saw someone at the door.

trey clover

being confident in your own privacy, you dance and be as sensual as you want. usually, you wouldn't. but hey, a bit fun never killed anyone? plus, the position you pulled was fairly tame. it was just you pushing your butt a bit more out there, which may have shown something...

you gasp as you realize trey was there, standing, mortified and red. he looked shocked as the song in the background still played. it came to the part where Sabrina declares she was "so fucking horny." you were still in that specific pose before you stood up apologizing. trey coughed and shook his head, trying to shake off the image of you being that sensual.

"the look in their eyes, oh sevens. and the way that pose with uh.." trey's thoughts grow frantic as he apologized and tried to close the door

"prefect! i'm so sorry! let me just... next time, maybe lock the door? that was.. quite the show." you can basically hear the smirk.

cater diamond

cater was vlogging on the way to the dorm and to your room. he was hearing how you sang from the hall, he was excited to catch you off guard with a video. he giggled at his plan and barged in, but as he barged in, you were posing with that flirty tone cooing out of your mouth.

he nearly dropped his phone and his mouth was agape. your pose was so perfectly tame and lewd, he couldn't help but loose some air. cater tried to cover his eyes and try to laugh it off

"dear sevens, not now. don't let my imagination do the rest!" cater begs in his mind as he tried to grab his phone and shuffle out the door.

"nice voice though, bestie! uhm... maybe learn to lock things? that wasn't really... uhm. ah! let me just edit this, don't worry i won't post it!"

leona kingscholar

leona was annoyed how he had to get out of his nap. however, your dorm was oddly very comfortable, and you invited him over. it won't hurt, right? he stalks the halls, annoyed how you didn't bother to see if he arrived.

hearing your footsteps, he heard some tunes and decided to open the door to your room. leona was about to complain when you both were caught in a stare down of a very explicit pose. you were quiet and tried to make yourself decent before

*slam* leona closed the door. he was appalled and a bit too invested in the pose you just did. his tail was swishing around and he tried to avoid the heat building up, "what a show" he thought

"if you're gonna invite me to do that, wine and dine me first, herbivore. as a prince, i expect better" he teased

vil schoenheit

vil was expecting that you'd remember his promise of pampering. as vil walked to your room, he was wondering why you haven't noticed the way he nagging. vil made sure his voice was heard.

imagine his horror when he bursts the door open and see such a vulgar display of yourself towards him, though he did have to give where credit is due. you performed well and... got the reaction you wanted.

"hmm. not bad, that did get a reaction from me. ah, i got bested once more" vil thought as you scramble to be more decent, vil's glare causing you to hurry up. but that didn't stop the song to continue playing.

"horny? potato, what are these songs? hm, but your performance... i have some strong words" vil said as he listened in, you blush and turned it off.

rook hunt

let's be honest, he was watching the whole performance. your invitation was just a signal of when he will arrive at your door. he notes each note and decided to watch the spectacular performance up close.

as rook bursts through your door, he was blushing at the fact he realized that the innuendos were becoming serious. he was shocked to see you in such a pose. but that pose!

"ah, such perfect angles. if only i could've captured this moment, what a waste!" he thinks as he tries to take in the view of your pose.

"ah! my dear prefect! what a show! and that pose, such grace and vulgarity! and what's this? you are willing to try it?" rook said with so much enthusiasm. you glare.

idia shroud

he was honestly just about to ask something but that question died when he entered the room. he was floored when all you did was something not even his idols would dare to do.

idia didn't know what to do but panic and yelp as you try to calm him down in case he'd faint (he was close to doing so). your pose was now ingrained in his mind, he can't remove how your eyes and...

"oh sevens! oh sevens! that was so?!! oh im... is it obvious?!" idia panics as he pulls down his hoodie before overheating and tripping to the door.

"stupid... you should've locked the door. now i forgot why am i even here and-" idia tried to push his hoodie and hide somewhere

malleus draconia

he was excited to see you as he heard how you were singing and performing, he found the first lyrics odd, but he was strolling with ease. malleus just wanted to check up on you, and the shock he felt when you were posing

at first, he tried to be reasonable. but as his ears cannot deceive him, and his eyes too. he was shocked and speechless and the way you were displayed. you gasp and realize you nearly flashed the strongest one among the student body.

"how do i tell my child of man the implications of their words and actions?" malleus worries as he felt the blush creep in at the awkward situation they were in. he coughed and offered some space as he stood in front of the door

"does that mean... no. but ah, i can't have such feelings just yet. what enchantment has my dear done?" malleus said embarrassed.

lilia vanrouge

lilia was like rook, he saw it from a mile away. however, unlike rook, he was willing to not barge in. lilia calmly stalked you and appeared upside by your door. however, he was shocked and nearly fell at the display.

that pose and flirty tone was enough to cause such scandals. you yelp and try to stand up as quick as you can as lilia giggled at the notion. he went down on the ground and tried to calm your frantic explanations, humming alongside the song. he found it good.

"oh! that is quite a display. hmm, do they know how scandalous they are being right now? and quite the nice melody over something so raunchy." lilia giggled as he smirked as the song played on.

"quite the scandal, dear. keep the door locked next time, fufufufu~ though, i must say, the song is quite a treat. i would love to learn it on my guitar, i can hear that guitar solo after~"

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elegantlyeva · 4 months ago

Note

can you do a spencer and hot chocolate and maybe hes protective of her? or jealous

DAY THREE

Hot Cocoa

Summary: Spencer’s embarrassed after getting jealous.

Word Count: 0.4K

Realistically, Spencer knew the jealousy that burned inside him was unfair to you. You had been nothing but perfect since the two of you got together two months ago.

You were beyond understanding when he showed up late to one too many dates due to work, reassuring him that it sucked but wasn’t his fault.

You never asked him to shut up, even when he knew he was talking too much.

You hadn’t been repulsed when he asked you to stay over at his apartment for the first time either, so why was he getting worked up over your co-worker buying you a hot chocolate?

It was stupid, and he mentally facepalmed. Here you were, draped across his lap, playing with the end of his sweater—a loose string he hadn’t pulled out yet—and he was worried over a drink.

As if sensing his thoughts (and maybe you did), you tapped his jaw with two fingers. “You okay? You’ve hardly spoken since you picked me up from work.”

He hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t say much else until he felt you shift to sit upright, causing him to frown.

“Spencer?” Your voice sounded worried, and he hated that it was his fault.

Clearing his throat, “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, sorry. Long day.”

You nodded, not totally convinced but not wanting to pry either. You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and the act alone had him speaking up.

“Are you hungry? Better yet, thirsty? I can make you something,” he offered, though he didn’t specify what.

“Oh. I’m okay...” you trailed off, realizing he was already up and across the room. You furrowed your brows, mumbling under your breath, “Never mind.”

Not even five minutes later, Spencer was ushering you into the kitchen to sit at his counter, handing you a mug of hot cocoa.

The smell filled your senses, and the face you made when you took a sip had him relaxing slightly.

“It’s good, right? I made it the way you like it. I think. Although, maybe you like the way Ryan makes it more,” he said, scowling at the mention of the man’s name.

You gave him a knowing smile. “Spence...”

He shook his head. “No, no, I know it’s dumb. I know. But he was so... I don’t know. Not me.” Watching you frown, he sighed. “I’m not trying to be self-deprecating, I just—”

“No, you’re right. You’re nothing like him.” At his crestfallen look, you clarified, “Which is a really good thing. The best thing, actually. I might rip my hair out if you were anything like him. I’ve never met a man so obsessed with himself that he didn’t even care that he spilled the hot chocolate on the floor.”

When he sort of almost-smiled, you continued, “Not to mention he added way too many marshmallows. I mean, I couldn’t even taste the hot chocolate. Didn’t you notice I went inside your car empty-handed?”

“You threw it out.” It wasn’t a question. Spencer groaned, the tips of his ears turning pink, and took the mug from your hands to place it on the counter before wrapping his arms around you.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I reacted like that.” He mumbled.

“No apology needed. I’m happy to know you like me so much that you can’t even stand another guy giving me hot chocolate.”

“Don’t say it like that. He was flirting, I could tell.”

“Oh, you could tell?”

“Mannerisms.”

He squeezed you tighter when he heard you laugh.

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redrose10 · 3 months ago

Text

Surprise! A short little update since I had some time today.

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

Idol Yoongi x Female Spouse Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, body insecurity, hints of cheating, Jealousy, maybe more…

Part 1

You mindlessly wiped down the counter to pass the time and make your shift go a little quicker when your boss came walking in.

“Y/N make sure you sell the rest of that cherry pie. It’s about to spoil and since it was your suggestion to start selling it I’m taking it out of your paycheck if we don’t.”, he directed before storming into his office and slamming the door. He was lucky the cafe paid decently and was so close to your apartment otherwise you would have quit a long time ago.

Some time later as you were folding some napkins the bell on the door chimed indicating a new customer had arrived. You put on your best customer service smile and walked over to the register to take their order.

“Hi welcome to Comfy Cafe. How can I help you today?”, you asked.

“Hi uh yeah can I please get a large iced americano?”, the man in front of you spoke. He looked familiar. You knew he was most likely an idol signed by one of the companies headquartered near the cafe. The way he dressed and his mint colored hair was not the usual style your everyday customers had, but you couldn’t quite place who he was.

“Would you like to add any bakery items?”, you asked hoping for an upsell to please your boss.

He shook his head while digging around in his wallet looking for his credit card.

You continued, “We have a really tasty cherry pie! And cherries are actually quite good for you too by the way. They have antioxidant properties, are heart healthy, AND can help with your sleep thanks to containing some melatonin.”

Finally the guy looked up at you with his eyebrow raised, “And also loads of sugar and fat that I’m pretty sure cancels all of that out.”

Your face fell slightly, “Right... I guess so.”, you chuckled feeling silly, “One large iced americano coming right up.”

You placed the drink on the counter and began ringing up his order when he stopped you, “Oh and uh add on a slice of cherry pie.” You perked up and nodded excitedly, “Cherries are also high in fiber so there’s that too!” You heard the guy laugh making you turn nearly as red as the pie you were holding, but the relief you felt knowing you were one slice closer to not loosing a portion of your hard earned paycheck made a huge smile spread across your face. You packaged everything up while he paid and then waved a good bye before walking out the door. By the end of your shift there was only one slice of pie left and you ended up purchasing it with your free daily employee meal so none of it had to come out of your check.

That same guy started coming into the little cafe every couple of days. One of the days your coworker helped you figure out that he was Yoongi or Suga from the group BTS. She was Jungkook biased herself so you heard a lot about the group that day.

For being famous, Yoongi was always very polite and friendly when he would come in. He would order an americano and a slice of cherry pie each time, usually to-go but sometimes he would stick around and eat at the cafe while having a conversation with you. There were even a few times that he brought the rest of the group which your boss absolutely loved you for since they pretty much cleared out the display case of various pastries.

Eventually Yoongi asked you out on a date. One date turned into two and then three and four then next thing you knew you were his girlfriend. All the while he was still coming into the cafe at least once a week, as long as they weren’t on a tour, and would order a coffee and a slice of cherry pie. You offered him other items, the banana bread was good and the cinnamon rolls were to die for, but he stuck with the same cherry pie.

It wasn’t until your first anniversary that he finally confessed something he had been hiding for a long time. You had surprised him with some homemade cherry candies. It was your grandma’s recipe that included cherries and whiskey, two of his favorite things…or so you thought. You were so excited to give him the gift. He thanked you profusely, but you could tell something was off. After some prodding he finally told you the truth.

He hated cherries. He hated everything about them. The way they felt, the way they stained everything red. The way they tasted. He hated fresh cherries, cherry cobbler, cherry jello, and even cherry pie. He hated the cherry flavored medicine his mom used to give him when he had a sore throat. He hated the sickly sweet and artificial cherry scented perfume his aunt always wore. He even hated the cherry chapstick that his sixth grade crush was wearing the day he worked up the courage to kiss her.

But most of all he hated the way you frowned and looked so defeated that first day he met you at the cafe when he declined your offer of the pie. So he went against everything he believed in and ordered a slice of the cherry pie and the way your face lit up again into a bright smile made him realize that maybe he could like cherries even if just a little bit.

The days he took the pie to go were easy because he could pass along the slice to one of the other boys who gladly gobbled down the dessert without issue and then in the days he had a little extra time and would eat in the cafe so he could spend some more time with you he would focus on your pretty face and the conversation between you two instead of the cherry abomination on his plate.

As he told you all of this you felt both butterflies that he was willing to suffer like that just to see you smile, but you also felt terrible too.

Then you had a realization and burst into laughter and in between giggles had to explain how at one point your boss wanted to take the cherry pie off of the menu since it wasn’t a big seller and was hard to keep fresh, but you begged and pleaded with him to keep it. The last thing you wanted was to have to tell Yoongi he couldn’t get his slice of pie so eventually your boss relented and kept the pie on the menu. But you were required to come into work hours early every day to make the pies yourself. So for months you woke up super early and walked to the cafe just to make sure there was a cherry pie available in case Yoongi walked through the door.

The both of you realized you had been unnecessarily suffering for each other over this and that is how cherries became a symbol of your love for one another.

“Y/N! Y/N please wait!”, your husband was shouting as he tried to push his way through the crowd. You were on a mission to find your daughter and get out of that place as fast as you could. Your feet were burning, your legs felt wobbly, and your back ached, but you pushed yourself to walk as fast as you could waddle because the thought of being anywhere near Yoongi hurt more than any of that.

“Momma! Did you see me?! Did you love it?!”, Hana came running up to you in the hall. She was carrying the little bouquet of flowers Yoongi had arranged to have delivered for her and the rest of the class.

“You did so great baby! I’m so proud of you.”, you exclaimed leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead, “Now go get your coat. We need to go.”

“Y/N.”, Yoongi gasped out of breath behind you. You ignored him while keeping your focus on the door so you could grab Hana as soon as she came out.

“Baby…”, he said reaching for your hand, but you pulled away.

“Don’t baby me. Leave now before Hana comes out. I’ll let her know you had a work thing to go to.”, you said hoping the anger in your voice covered the quivering sound from you being about to cry.

“Y/N, please… let’s talk about this. Let me explain.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes before shaking your head and turning away from him.

He continued, “You’re going to get yourself worked up and it’s not good for you or the baby. Let’s go home. We’ll put Hana to bed and then I can make sure you’re taken care of. Then we can talk.”

“Fuck off Yoongi! What is there to talk about?! You want to explain to me how long you’ve been cheating on me with that woman? Do you want to talk about how deprived of intimacy I am lately while you’re out fucking her and who knows who else? There is nothing to talk about!”, by the time you were finished you were out of breath and had tears rolling down your cheeks. You felt shaky and were sure a few of the people around you were staring if not listening in.

You weren’t sure what you really expected from him, but Yoongi was as stoic as ever as he silently stared at you. He finally went to speak, but Hana excitedly came running into the hallway and jumped into his arms. He spun her around and gave her cheek a kiss before gently setting her down while you hastily wiped away your tears so she wouldn’t see.

Then he surprised you when he reached for your coat that was being squeezed to death in your shaking hands. He held it open for you and helped you get it on, even making sure it was buttoned up with your scarf neatly tied around your neck. He did the same for Hana before grabbing her hand and leading her towards the exit while you silently followed behind them.

When you walked through the door of your home Hana shouted goodnight and went sprinting to her room to start getting ready for bed after you promised her chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast if she didn’t make bedtime difficult. You were in no mood for it.

“I’ll start her bath. You need to take your vitamins.”, Yoongi said while hanging up his coat.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing.”, you shook your head, “But you’re not staying here. Get out Yoongi.”

“Y/N…”

“No!”, you hissed trying to keep your voice down, “You cheated on me Yoongi. The only reason I even got in the car with you was so that Hana wouldn’t get upset at the school and cause a scene. So leave now before she comes back out and I’ll tell her you had an emergency at work.”

“Wh-Where am I supposed to go?”

You scoffed, “I don’t care. Go to your studio. Go to one of the boys. Go to that woman’s house! I’m sure she has more of your clothes you can wear for the night or don’t wear any at all! It’s not like you need them while you’re fucking each other anyways.”

At that same moment you felt a sharp pain sear through your side and you doubled over in pain.

“Y/N!”, he whispered before running to your side in an instant and rubbing your belly with his hand. He helped you to your bed and got out your favorite pajamas to place down next to you. He left the room before returning shortly with a glass of water, your vitamins, some milk, and bowl with various fruits along with a chocolate chip cookie that he had warmed up just the way you liked it. You felt a lump forming in your throat that you couldn’t quite get down.

He grabbed a bag and shoved a few items inside it. Then he cleared his throat, “I’ll leave Y/N, but I’m only leaving because I don’t want to upset you any more than you already are right now. It’s not good for you or the baby and it’s terrifying me. I want you to rest and then we’ll discuss this tomorrow. Call me immediately if you need anything.”, he said before closing the bedroom door and walking down the hall. You heard him open up Hana’s door to take a quick peak before closing it again and then a few moments later you heard the familiar beeps of the front door signaling it getting opened and shut and then he was gone.

Now that you were alone in the comfort of your own bed you finally broke down into sobs. You were so exhausted physically and emotionally that you were unable to even change out of your dress. You buried your face into your pillow hoping to hide the sounds from Hana.

You had asked him to leave and he did, but for some reason that hurt more than anything. Maybe a part of you wanted him to stay and argue with you, even if it lasted all night and went round and round to go nowhere. You wanted him to say something hurtful to you so that you would know he was hurting too. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted to fight for you…for your marriage and family, but instead he walked away and left you replaying the nights events over and over. It left you wondering if and when he had stopped feeling anything for you and maybe all of this was why things had been feeling so off between you two lately.

#bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #bts x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #suga

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movingmusically · 1 month ago

Text

Good Girl

Synopsis:

A teasing comment in an interview changes everything. The internet notices. Austin notices. And when he offers to take control, to take care of you—you realise you want him to.

Word Count: 11.4k

Masterlist

The press tour had been a whirlwind—early mornings, long flights, endless interviews with the same handful of questions, just worded differently each time. But honestly? You didn’t mind.

For one, you were ridiculously proud of the movie. It had been the kind of project actors dream about—the perfect mix of challenge and chemistry, the kind of story that stuck with people.

And two, it had given you Austin. You’d spent months circling each other on set, tension building until pretending wasn’t an option anymore. By the time filming wrapped, you were his, and he was yours. Eight months later, nothing had changed.

The world had caught on quickly. You weren’t exactly hiding, but you weren’t shouting from the rooftops either. Still, between red carpet glances, the way Austin never quite kept his hands off you, and the way you smiled at him like he’d hung the damn moon—people knew.

Which was why, when the two of you sat down for another round of press, it was business as usual. You sat next to him, legs crossed, holding your microphone loosely while Austin lounged in his chair, one ankle resting over his knee, his arm draped casually over the backrest as he leaned in to speak. Across from you, the interviewer, Josh, was flipping through his notes, clearly enjoying himself.

“So, were you guys rebels growing up? Did you ever get into trouble? Or were you good kids?”

Austin let out a small chuckle, tilting his head as he thought about it. “I feel like I was a fairly obedient, good boy, yeah.”

Josh’s brows lifted in amusement. “Really? You never got into trouble?”

Austin shook his head, shrugging. “Not really. My biggest thing was that as soon as somebody told me to do something, I wanted to do the opposite. Like, I liked cleaning my room, but the second my parents told me to do it? Didn’t wanna do it anymore.”

Josh nodded. “Ah, classic.”

“But I never snuck out or anything. I also didn’t have to because my parents were really cool. My mom always said if I told her everything, she’d support me, give me her opinion, but she never ruled with an iron fist.”

Josh hummed in approval before turning to you. “And you, Y/N? Would your parents say the same?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said without hesitation, smiling. “I was the goodest girl. Never in trouble, always doing what I was told. If someone gave me instructions, I followed them exactly.”

Josh chuckled, nodding along. Beside you, Austin shifted in his seat, his hand flexing where it rested on his knee, but you barely noticed.

“I mean, I never tested boundaries,” you continued. “If you told me to sit somewhere and not move, I’d stay there until you came back. Even if it was hours later. I was just like that—I listened, I followed directions, I never needed to be told twice.”

Josh let out a slightly strangled laugh. Austin coughed into his fist.

You frowned at their reactions but kept going.

“I always liked knowing what I was supposed to do. Like, rules? Loved them. Structure? The best. I never questioned authority, I just wanted to please people. Like, making my parents proud? That was the best feeling in the world. I thrived off it. Just tell me what you expect, and I’ll do my absolute best to be perfect.”

Josh made a weird noise that sounded like half a laugh, half a choke. Austin pressed his lips together, eyes slightly wider than before.

“…What?” you asked, blinking between them.

Josh coughed. “No, nothing, that’s, uh—very… admirable.”

Austin nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah. Very admirable.”

The conversation moved on, the interview wrapped up. That night, you and Austin didn’t think much about it. It had been just another stop on the press tour, blending into the dozens of others you’d done over the past few weeks.

It wasn’t until the following week that everything changed.

You were in the middle of a quiet morning—coffee, a slow start, a rare moment of peace before another packed day—when your phone buzzed.

Emma: LMFAOOOOO

You frowned at the screen, confused.

You: What??

Emma: Sis. You broke the internet and I don’t think you even know why.

A pit of mild concern settled in your stomach. You glanced up from your phone. “Babe?”

Austin hummed, flipping a page in the book he was reading. “Yeah?”

“Emma’s saying I broke the internet.”

Austin’s eyes flicked up, brow furrowing slightly. “Why?”

Your stomach tightened slightly, but before you could respond, another message popped up.

Emma: Check Twitter. Actually, no. Here. Let me do the work for you.

A flood of links followed.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over your phone before clicking the first one. The moment the words registered, your stomach dropped.

@randomuser1: THE INTERVIEW JUST AIRED AND I SWEAR TO GOD Y/N DOESN’T KNOW. AUSTIN KNEW. JOSH KNEW. THE INTERNET KNOWS. BUT SHE DOESN’T KNOW.

@subtextqueen: Y/N: “I was the goodest girl, I’d sit still for hours if you told me to.” Austin, gripping the armrest of his chair: deep breath. Josh, short-circuiting: nervous laughter. THE WORLD: screaming into the void

@smutficreader69: NO BECAUSE THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN. SHE JUST OUTED HERSELF AS THE MOST SUBBY SUB EVER WITHOUT EVEN REALISING IT AND AUSTIN IS TRYING SO HARD NOT TO LOSE HIS MIND ON CAMERA

You froze, eyes locked on the screen. “Oh my God.”

Austin, finally curious, set his book down and leaned over your shoulder. “…What?”

You whipped around to look at him, wide-eyed. “The internet thinks I—” You stopped, pressing your lips together, then groaned. “Oh my God.”

Austin squinted at the screen, scanning the tweets. It took him all of two seconds before he burst out laughing.

Like, actual, full-body laughter.

You smacked his arm. “Austin!”

He barely even registered it, leaning back, wheezing. “Baby…” he managed between laughs. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know!” you insisted, heat creeping up your neck.

“I know,” he said, grinning. “That’s what makes it so good.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t believe I said all of that on camera.”

Austin wrapped an arm around you, still chuckling. “Hey,” he murmured, voice softer now. “It’s not a bad thing.”

You exhaled, peeking at him. “I just didn’t realise.”

His thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles, his expression still amused but softer now, more thoughtful. “Have you ever thought about it?”

You frowned, still feeling the heat in your face from the absolute chaos happening online. “About what?”

He tilted his head slightly, watching you. “About… what they’re saying.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “No. Not like that. I mean, I knew I was a rule-follower, but I never thought—” You gestured vaguely at your phone, which was still lighting up with notifications. “I never thought it meant anything.”

Austin hummed, his fingers still gently stroking the back of your hand. “It makes sense, though.”

You gave him a look. “Does it?”

He chuckled. “Baby, you do like rules. You like knowing what’s expected. You like making people happy.”

You exhaled, tilting your head back against the couch. “I mean… yeah. That’s just how I’ve always been.”

He smiled, his fingers tracing higher, skimming your wrist. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your stomach fluttered at the way his voice dropped slightly, just enough to make you aware of it.

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. “You’ve never brought this up before.”

“I didn’t wanna assume,” he admitted. “And I didn’t think it really mattered. But… watching you say all that? Baby, I was losing my mind.”

You flushed. “Austin.”

“What?” His grin was boyish, teasing, but his fingers on your wrist were not. “You have no idea how much I wanted to take you out of that interview and—”

You slapped a hand over his mouth, your whole body going warm. “Oh my God.”

His laughter rumbled against your palm before you let him go, sinking further into the couch. He watched you for a moment, his teasing expression shifting into something more serious, more curious.

“Have you ever wanted that?” he asked, voice lower now, like he was testing the waters.

You thought about it. Really thought about it.

Had you ever wanted to let go like that? To hand over control, to not have to think, just follow? You weren’t sure you’d ever considered it before, not in so many words, but the way your body reacted to Austin’s touch, to his voice—

Your stomach flipped. The thought should’ve felt ridiculous, but it didn’t. It made sense. It wasn’t just about liking the praise—it was something deeper.

You liked knowing what to do. You liked when things were clear, when you didn’t have to guess or hesitate. And when Austin took control—when he guided you, when he told you exactly what he wanted—it felt... right.

Had it always been like that? Had you always liked that feeling?

Your stomach tightened.

“…Maybe,” you admitted softly.

Austin studied you, his fingers now barely ghosting over your pulse point. “We don’t have to,” he murmured. “If you’re not into it, if it’s not something you want—”

“I do,” you cut in, surprising yourself. Your throat felt dry, your pulse kicking a little harder. “I think… I do.”

Something flickered in his gaze—something thoughtful, something knowing. His thumb brushed over your wrist, slow and deliberate.

“We’ve got a packed day,” he murmured, voice lower now, curiosity still dancing in his eyes. “But… we can talk more about it later.”

The implication sent heat curling in your stomach. You swallowed, nodding.

“Yeah.” Your voice came out softer than you expected. “Later.”

Austin smirked, giving your hand a final squeeze before letting go. “Looking forward to it.”

And just like that, the moment shifted back to normal—except now, there was something else there, lingering beneath the surface.

The press tour was over.

No more early morning flights, no more crammed schedules, no more sitting under hot lights while answering the same five questions in slightly different ways. After weeks of moving from one city to the next, you were finally home.

And yet—

You still couldn’t stop thinking about it.

About him.

Austin had been completely normal for the rest of the press tour. That was the problem.

He hadn’t brought up the conversation again—not once. Not a single teasing remark, not a knowing smirk, not even a look that suggested he was thinking about it. He’d just carried on as if nothing had changed.

Except it had.

It was in the way your stomach flipped when his voice dropped just a little lower than usual. The way your skin tingled when he touched the small of your back.

The way you caught yourself watching him more than usual—wondering what was going on inside his head.

Austin wasn’t the type to jump into something without thinking it through. If he hadn’t mentioned it, there had to be a reason. Maybe he was just waiting for you to bring it up. You swallowed, curling deeper into the couch.

It had been hours since you’d gotten home, but you still felt unsettled. Like something was waiting just beneath the surface, hovering in the quiet between you and Austin.

Speak of the devil—

You glanced up as he walked in from the kitchen, two glasses of whiskey in hand. He wore an old, well-worn t-shirt and sweatpants, a stark contrast from the designer suits he’d practically lived in for the past few weeks.

You accepted the glass as he sat down beside you, tucking one leg under the other, settling in like this was the first time he could breathe in weeks.

“Feels weird being home, huh?” he mused, taking a slow sip.

You hummed in agreement. “Like I forgot how to just… sit still.”

His lips twitched. “You? Miss ‘I follow instructions perfectly’? I don’t believe it.”

Your stomach flipped.

You shot him a look, heat creeping up your neck. “I knew you were thinking about it.”

Austin smirked against the rim of his glass. “I never said I wasn’t.”

Your heart stuttered. You set your drink down on the coffee table, suddenly unable to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you.

Austin exhaled, setting his own glass down before shifting closer, his arm resting along the back of the couch.

When he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, it was slow. Unhurried.

You sighed against him, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. His hand came up to your jaw, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone, tilting your head slightly.

And just like that, you followed.

You let him adjust the angle, let him take control of the kiss exactly how he wanted—and you liked it.

Austin hummed, breaking away just enough to let his breath ghost over your lips. His fingers traced down, skimming your wrist—just like he had that morning in the hotel.

He tilted his head, studying you, and then—

“You like that, don’t you?”

You froze.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs.

Austin’s eyes stayed on yours, patient, waiting—not pushing, just watching.

Your breath was shaky when you finally answered.

“…Yeah.”

His lips twitched, something warm flickering in his gaze. His fingers squeezed lightly around your wrist, not tight, not forceful—just present.

“Good.” His voice was soft, smooth, edged with something deeper. “Because if we’re gonna do this, I wanna do it right.”

You swallowed hard. “Right?”

Austin nodded, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. “I’ve been doing some research.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow, amused. “That’s all you’ve got?”

Heat bloomed in your chest. “I—I just…” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “You researched?”

His lips twitched. “Of course I did. You really think I’d jump into something like this without making sure I know how to take care of you?”

Something about the way he said it—take care of you—made your stomach clench.

You swallowed. “What did you find?”

Austin smirked. “You really wanna get into that now, sweetheart?”

Your face burned. “I mean—I should know, right?”

His smirk softened, turning into something more sincere. “You should. And we will talk about it. But before anything else, I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

You nodded quickly. “I am.”

Austin gave you a look. “No, I mean really comfortable. This only works if you feel safe, if you know you can always stop things if you want to.”

You bit your lip. “Okay.”

His fingers traced the inside of your wrist again, grounding you.

“There’s something called the colour system,” he murmured. “It’s simple—green, yellow, red. Green means you’re good, you’re enjoying it. Yellow means slow down, maybe check in. Red means stop—no questions asked.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding against your ribs.

He was serious.

Not just about doing this—but about doing it right.

Warmth bloomed in your chest, curling around your ribs.

“You really thought about this,” you murmured.

Austin smiled. “Of course I did.”

And that was the moment you knew.

This wasn’t just some passing curiosity, some fleeting experiment.

Austin wanted to take care of you.

And you wanted to let him.

A slow exhale left your lips, your body settling into the realisation, letting it sink into your bones.

Austin’s thumb traced over your wrist again, his touch light, thoughtful. Still watching you. Still waiting.

That same familiar warmth curled in your stomach—the same pull that had been there from the moment this conversation started.

You looked up at him, and he must have seen it in your eyes.

Because the next thing you knew, he was kissing you.

The movie had long since become background noise. You weren’t sure what was happening on the screen anymore—not when Austin was kissing you like this.

You were curled into his side, legs tangled, fingers slipping into the fabric of his t-shirt as his lips moved against yours, slow and deep. It had started soft, unhurried, but now there was something heavier beneath it.

His hands skimmed over your waist, his thumb brushing just beneath the hem of your top before his fingers flexed, gripping you just enough to make your breath hitch.

Austin noticed.

Of course he did.

He pulled back just enough to let his nose brush against yours, his fingers still resting warm and firm on your skin.

“You still good?” he murmured.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t move in again. Instead, he waited—watching you, giving you the space to process.

You knew what this was.

This was the moment—the point where you could still pull back, still pretend like none of this had changed between you.

But you didn’t want to.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

Austin exhaled, dragging his fingers higher, slow, deliberate. “I need you to remember something for me, sweetheart.”

You shivered. “Okay.”

His thumb traced circles over your ribs, grounding. “I’m taking the lead here. But you?” His eyes stayed locked on yours. “You’re in control.”

Your breath caught. “I—”

“You say red, I stop.” His voice was smooth, but firm. “You say yellow, I slow down. Green means you’re good.”

You nodded quickly, pulse kicking. “Got it.”

Austin gave you a look.

“Say it back to me, baby.”

You licked your lips, heart pounding. “Green means I’m good, yellow means slow down, red means stop.”

Austin’s fingers squeezed at your side, approving. “Good girl.”

Heat flared through you at the praise.

He noticed.

His lips twitched like he was fighting a smirk, but he let it slide for now. Instead, his fingers traced slow lines up your back, settling at the nape of your neck.

You hesitated for a moment before grinning, trying to lighten the moment.

“So… do I need to call you sir or something?”

Austin let out a low chuckle, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin. “Only if you want to, baby.”

You swallowed hard, but your grin didn’t fade. “You have a preference?”

His fingers tightened, just slightly. “I like hearing you say my name when you’re like this.”

Your breath hitched.

His name. Not sir, not anything else—just Austin.

Something about that made warmth curl through your chest. Like it was intimate, just between you and him.

You swallowed hard, nodding.

Austin smiled, kissing you again—slower this time, like he was savoring the way you were melting against him. His hands mapped your waist, your back, his lips pressing firmer, deeper.

Everything was so much more intense now, knowing where this was headed.

Then, he pulled back.

You blinked, dazed. “What—?”

Austin smirked, his hands dropping to your thighs as he leaned back against the couch.

“Go to the bedroom,” he said, voice slow and deliberate.

Your stomach flipped.

“Take off your clothes.”

Your breath caught.

Then—

“Sit on the edge of the bed and wait for me.”

Heat rushed through you.

Austin let the words settle between you, his expression calm, patient, but expectant.

He was watching you so closely, waiting for any hesitation.

But you didn’t hesitate.

You hovered for a second, your lips brushing his, breathing in the heat between you. Your fingers curled at the hem of his shirt, like maybe—just maybe—you’d stay a little longer.

Austin’s hand slid lower, tracing the curve of your hip, his voice a warm hum against your mouth.

“Go on, baby,” he murmured.

Your stomach flipped. You swallowed, then slowly pulled back. His gaze followed you as you stood.

And then—

His hand smacked your ass, light but undeniable.

You gasped—not in shock, but in pure, giddy surprise. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.

Austin grinned, tilting his head at you, pleased.

“There she is,” he murmured.

Your heart hammered.

His smile only widened as you turned and ran off to the bedroom.

He didn’t follow immediately.

You could feel him waiting—making you anticipate, making you think about what was coming.

And God, it was so much worse than if he had just followed you right away.

The bedroom felt different like this.

It wasn’t like before—when you’d stumble in together, tangled up in laughter and kisses, pulling at each other’s clothes in a rush to get to the bed.

Now?

Now, you were waiting for him.

You sat at the edge of the bed, exactly how he’d told you to. The air felt warmer against your skin, every inch of you aware of the anticipation curling in your stomach.

He hadn’t followed you immediately.

It had only been a minute or two—long enough for your breath to steady, for your skin to prickle with awareness. You weren’t nervous, not really. Mostly, you just wanted.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled your focus.

Your eyes were already on the doorway when Austin stepped inside, his movements slow, unrushed.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just stood there.

Watching.

The flickering light from the hallway cast shadows over his face, but you could still see the way his gaze dragged over you, taking his time, letting the moment settle between you.

He exhaled slowly, voice smooth, assessing.

“…Look at you.”

Your stomach tightened.

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he stepped further inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

Austin took his time crossing the room, his steps slow and measured. Not hesitant—never hesitant. Just deliberate, as if he wanted you to feel every second of the space closing between you.

Your pulse kicked hard as he came closer, your eyes locked onto his, unable to look away.

He was still in the same sweatpants and t-shirt he’d been wearing on the couch, but there was something different now. Something in the way his body moved—loose, controlled, completely in command of the moment.

By the time he reached you, the anticipation curled so tight in your stomach you thought you might tremble.

Austin stopped just in front of you.

He didn’t touch you immediately. Instead, he just stood there, looking at you. Letting you feel the weight of his presence, his focus.

Your breathing shallowed out, but you didn’t move—not because you weren’t allowed to, but because you didn’t want to. Because you wanted to be right here, locked in this moment, waiting for him to take that last step.

And then, he did.

One hand lifted, fingers skimming so lightly along your jaw before settling firmly at your chin.

A controlled touch.

Not rough, but deliberate.

His thumb traced a slow path across your cheekbone before tilting your chin up, guiding your gaze back to his.

Your breath caught.

Austin hummed, almost like he was committing this moment to memory.

“…Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, thumb pressing just slightly against your skin.

The words sent a hot, unshakable pull straight through your core.

You weren’t even sure you breathed before he leaned down, his mouth brushing against yours, so soft you barely felt it—

A tease.

A test.

Like he wanted to see if you’d chase him.

Your fingers curled at your sides. You wanted to.

Austin chuckled, the sound warm, knowing.

His grip tightened just slightly, his free hand skimming over your knee, tracing.

“Tell me how you feel,” he murmured.

A deliberate check-in. Not because he thought you’d hesitate—but because he needed to hear you say it.

Your pulse pounded. “I feel good.”

Austin’s lips quirked. “Yeah?”

You swallowed. “Yeah.”

His thumb stroked over your cheek, his gaze still locked on yours.

“Good.”

His hand drifted lower, fingertips ghosting over your collarbone, slow and unrushed.

“You’re doing so well for me already,” he said softly.

You shivered.

His knees bent slightly, his posture relaxed but controlled as he brought himself closer, lower. Enough that you didn’t have to crane your neck too much, just enough to keep you looking up at him.

You weren’t sure who exhaled first before his lips were on yours again—firmer this time, undeniably leading.

Guiding you into exactly what he wanted.

And you?

You followed.

Austin’s lips moved slow and sure against yours, deepening the kiss just enough to pull you further under.

His thumb traced lazy circles against your cheek, a gentle contrast to the firm grip still holding your chin in place.

Leading.

Guiding.

Watching how you responded.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t sudden. He let it linger, breathing against your lips for a second before his fingers tilted your face just slightly to the side, exposing more of your neck.

You let him.

He hummed lowly, dragging the back of his fingers down the column of your throat, following their path with his eyes, like he was memorising you in real time.

His free hand, the one still resting lightly on your knee, squeezed.

A reminder.

“Keep your hands where they are,” he murmured.

A soft instruction.

Not forceful, not a warning—just a quiet expectation.

Your breath caught, but you didn’t hesitate. You stayed still, fingers curled into the blanket beneath you, even as his hands continued their slow, teasing path over your skin.

Austin smiled.

“Good girl.”

The words sent a hot, shivering pulse through you.

His lips pressed against the corner of your jaw, not quite kissing—just lingering there, close enough that you felt the warmth of his breath.

“You like that, don’t you?”

Your stomach fluttered.

You swallowed hard. “Yes.”

His teeth grazed the spot just below your ear.

“That’s my girl.”

A thrill shot through you, unexpected and overwhelming, curling in your stomach so fast you barely had time to register it.

Austin chuckled against your skin, feeling the way you reacted before you even had the chance to process it yourself.

He always noticed.

The hand on your knee moved higher, fingers trailing up your thigh, featherlight but deliberate.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice low and controlled.

“I think you’re ready for the next instruction, sweetheart.”

Your breath shuddered. “Tell me.”

Austin smirked, pulling back just enough to look at you again, his thumb skimming one last time over your cheek.

“Lay back for me.”

Your pulse jumped.

Not out of nerves, but out of anticipation.

Austin didn’t rush you. He never did. He just waited, watching you carefully as you shifted, leaning back until your spine met the mattress.

His gaze dragged down the length of you, slow and approving.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, every inch of your skin flushed, exposed, waiting.

Austin hummed, low and thoughtful.

“Hands above your head.”

Heat curled low in your stomach.

Slowly, deliberately, you did as he asked, letting your arms stretch above you, settling against the sheets.

Austin’s lips quirked.

“See? You’re a natural at this.”

You exhaled sharply, your chest rising and falling with the weight of the moment.

Austin’s hands trailed over you, fingertips grazing down your stomach, tracing over the curves of your hips, mapping his way down with infuriating patience.

His mouth followed, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, your ribs—each one slower, more deliberate than the last.

His pace never changed.

No rush. No urgency.

Just complete control.

And you?

You could barely breathe.

Austin’s voice came, a warm murmur against your skin.

“You still good, baby?”

Your breath hitched.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Austin hummed in approval, his lips grazing the dip between your ribs before he lifted his head, letting his gaze roam over you.

“Now, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hands tracing slow, idle circles over your hips, “I want you to do something else for me.”

Your pulse jumped, anticipation curling low in your stomach.

“Spread your legs.”

Heat flooded through you at the quiet authority in his voice.

You hesitated for just a second—not out of reluctance, but because you wanted to savor the moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Then, you did as he asked. Slowly, deliberately, you parted your thighs, feeling the cool air graze over your already overheated skin.

Austin’s breath hitched.

It was subtle, barely there, but you caught it. And that was the moment you knew—he was just as affected by this as you were.

His hands smoothed down your thighs, fingers pressing just firmly enough to keep you exactly as he wanted. His control was unwavering. He wasn’t just touching you—he was positioning you.

And then—His grip tightened. “Don’t move.”

Your breath stalled in your throat. Austin’s voice was still smooth, steady, but now there was an edge to it, something undeniable, commanding.

Your pulse thrummed against your ribs. Austin watched you, waiting, searching for any hesitation—but there was none.

So, when his fingers finally drifted lower, his touch was so unhurried, so deliberate, you thought you might lose your mind before he even started.

You wanted to shift, wanted to press up into his touch, but his words still echoed in your head.

Don’t move.

You clenched your hands into the sheets above you, breathing hard as he finally—finally—gave you what you’d been waiting for.

The first stroke of his fingers was agonizingly slow, a teasing drag through your slickness, spreading the wetness he found there.

Austin let out a low, satisfied hum.

“So good for me,” he murmured. “Already so wet, baby.”

Your whole body tensed, your thighs threatening to tremble against his hold.

He felt it. And he didn’t allow it. His grip tightened just slightly, a reminder.

Your breath came out shaky. “Austin—”

A sharp squeeze to your thigh. “Careful.”

The warning was gentle but firm, the kind that made heat rush straight to your core. You swallowed, forcing yourself to stay still.

Austin rewarded you immediately.

His fingers circled your clit with slow, devastating precision, never too much, never too little—just enough to have your stomach twisting with need.

Your fingers dug into the sheets, desperate to ground yourself.

Austin noticed.

His lips curved into a pleased smirk, his other hand dragging over your stomach, soothing you as his fingers kept their slow, ruthless pace.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “You’re taking it so well.”

You whined, your head tipping back.

Austin chuckled against your skin, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your hip, his breath warm and steady, his grip still firm on your thigh—keeping you exactly where he wanted. But then, as his fingers circled with devastating precision, a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through you, and before you could stop yourself, your back arched.

It was instinct, reflex—your body responding to him before your mind could catch up.

Austin’s fingers stilled instantly.

The shift was so subtle, so controlled, that at first, you barely registered what had happened. But then he pulled away. Not roughly, not as a punishment, but with calm, deliberate intent. His fingers left your skin, retreating, while his grip on your thigh remained firm—a quiet reminder that he was still in control.

Your breath hitched, heat flashing through you, not just from frustration but from the sharp, sudden awareness that you’d broken the rule.

Austin exhaled, his smirk edging into something deeper, something knowing. He dragged his thumb in slow, lazy circles over your thigh—not to soothe, but to make you wait. To let the loss of his touch sink in.

“What did I tell you, sweetheart?” His voice was smooth, even, but there was a quiet weight behind it, something unmistakably firm.

You swallowed hard, pulse pounding. “…Not to move.”

Austin hummed, pleased you remembered, but he didn’t give you what you wanted—not yet. Instead, his free hand traced idle patterns along your stomach, fingers dragging over your heated skin, but never quite where you needed him most. He was making you feel it, making you sit in the tension of the moment, fully aware of what had happened and what it meant.

“And what did you do?”

Your fingers clenched against the sheets above you, heat crawling up your neck. “I—I moved.”

“Mmm.” His fingers trailed lower, teasing, but never quite touching, his breath ghosting against your thigh. “You did, didn’t you?”

The teasing lilt in his voice sent a fresh rush of heat through you. You wanted to squirm, to press your thighs together, to do anything to relieve the aching need he’d built up in you. But you knew better now.

Austin let the silence stretch, letting the moment settle between you. And then, just when you thought you might break from the waiting—

“Let’s try that again.”

And this time, when he touched you again, it was worse.

Slower.

More controlled.

Every movement designed to push you to the edge, to test how well you could follow.

And now?

Now, you didn’t move.

Not until he let you.

Austin’s touch was back, but this time, he wasn’t just touching you.

He was testing you.

His fingers teased right along the edge of where you needed him, the pressure just light enough to make your thighs tremble with restraint. The worst part? You knew he was doing it on purpose. You could see it in the way his lips curled at the edges, that slow, knowing smirk that told you he was watching, waiting to see if you’d break again.

But you didn’t.

Not this time.

You kept your arms where they belonged, stretched above your head, fingers curling against the sheets, muscles tight with effort. Your thighs stayed parted, exactly how he told you to keep them, your body held in perfect, obedient stillness.

Austin exhaled a quiet hum, his fingers tracing slow, measured circles over your clit. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s my girl.”

The praise sent a pulse of heat straight through your core, but you held firm.

Austin’s hand drifted lower, teasing through your slickness before pressing two fingers inside you, slow and deliberate, filling you with an unhurried precision that had your whole body tightening around him.

You gasped, your nails digging into the sheets. Your hips twitched—small, barely perceptible, but enough.

Austin’s movements didn’t stop immediately, but his rhythm shifted—not easing up, not punishing, just letting you feel the change. A silent reminder.

A pleased sound rumbled low in his chest, and he tilted his head slightly, observing you with that same sharp, calculated focus. “You feel that, sweetheart?”

The weight of his attention made your breath catch. He was always so attuned to you, always catching the smallest shifts in your body.

You swallowed hard, barely managing to nod.

Austin’s fingers curled just right, pressing into a spot that sent a sharp, pleasure-laced shock up your spine.

Your breath hitched.

His voice dipped lower. “You’re taking me so well.”

The words only made the heat in your stomach coil tighter, hotter. The pressure was building too fast, too intense, too much.

Your thighs tensed, your stomach quivered, your whole body on the verge of something devastating.

Austin felt it. He always did.

“Almost there, baby?” His lips brushed against your inner thigh, teasing, coaxing, but still in control.

You let out a breathy whimper, barely able to form words. “Y-Yes.”

His fingers didn’t slow. Didn’t ease up.

But he wasn’t letting you go just yet.

“Hold it for me.”

Your body shook.

Austin’s fingers kept pressing, circling, building, but the one thing you needed most—the release, the permission—he wasn’t giving it to you.

Not yet.

“Stay right there,” he murmured, his voice like silk over gravel. “Don’t come until I tell you.”

Your entire body locked up, trapped on the razor-thin edge of pleasure, every nerve burning with the effort of holding it back.

But you did it.

You held it.

Because he told you to.

Austin’s free hand slid up your stomach, his touch light, reassuring. “So good for me, sweetheart.”

His thumb pressed down harder, his fingers curling deep—

The world tilted.

You were unraveling, the pleasure cresting so violently your body nearly betrayed you—nearly—but you clung to his words, to the last thread of restraint, waiting, waiting—

And then—

Austin exhaled, his lips grazing your thigh as he finally, finally gave you what you needed.

“Come for me.”

The command sent you spiraling.

Pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming, your body shaking as you let go, every inch of you surrendering completely to the force of it. Your breath came shaky, uneven, gasping, your thighs threatening to close around his hand, but Austin didn’t let you.

He held you open, held you through it, his fingers never stopping until he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure from you.

When it finally, finally subsided, you felt boneless, your limbs heavy, your skin flushed and buzzing.

Austin pressed a slow, lingering kiss against your stomach, soothing, grounding.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmured.

You did.

A slow inhale, your chest rising, falling, settling.

Austin watched you carefully, his hands still warm against your thighs, his eyes dark but undeniably soft. “You okay?”

You blinked up at him, still catching your breath.

And then, a small, blissed-out laugh slipped from your lips. “Yeah.”

Austin grinned, leaning up until he was hovering over you, his lips just barely brushing yours.

“You did so well for me.”

Heat bloomed low in your stomach again, but this time, it was softer—a slow, warm glow rather than a burning need.

He lifted one of your wrists gently, running his thumb over the crease of your palm before guiding it down, down, down—

Letting you feel the way he wanted to bring you back.

His other hand followed, his touch warm, steady, easing the tension from your arms as he finally, finally let you move again.

Only then did you reach for him, instinctively pulling him closer.

Austin let you, pressing himself against you, covering you with his warmth.

And when he kissed you, it was unhurried, lingering, full of quiet satisfaction.

Your breath was still uneven, your pulse a slow, deep thrum in your ears, your body heavy with the aftershocks of pleasure. But Austin?

Austin wasn’t done.

You knew it before he even said a word. You could feel it. In the way his body still hovered over yours, the way his fingers still moved—never idle, never aimless. Just deliberate. Deciding.

You swallowed hard, already feeling the warmth start to build again, even though you’d barely recovered.

Austin hummed low in his throat, his fingers traced lower, skimming over your ribs, dragging over the curve of your breast before cupping you firmly, fully.

Your breath hitched.

Austin smiled, slow and satisfied. Like he was testing how sensitive you still were.

And when his thumb brushed over your nipple—you shuddered.

Austin didn’t rush. His hands moved with the same measured, deliberate control he’d kept all night—mapping you, exploring you, playing with you like he had all the time in the world. Then, his lips were on your breast.

Your breath stuttered.

He started slow, dragging his lips over the curve, breath warm, fingers still teasing and tracing, never quite giving you enough. Then, he licked—a slow, deliberate stroke over your nipple, wet and warm, so careful, like he wanted to see exactly how you’d react before doing it again.

Your body betrayed you instantly. Your breath hitched, your thighs twitching, heat bolting straight between your legs like a live wire. Austin smirked. He felt it. Of course he did.

He wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking hard. A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your back arching slightly as his hand squeezed your other breast, his thumb rolling your nipple between his fingers, keeping you trapped between two perfect sensations. He sucked, licked, flicked, each movement precise, calculated, like he was testing just how much he could unravel you with his mouth alone.

His breath was warm against your damp skin when he pulled off, lips twitching with quiet amusement as he took in the way you trembled beneath him.

Austin shifted, his fingers dragging down your ribs, your waist, your hips, like he was testing how sensitive you’d become. Your whole body shivered at his touch. His voice dropped lower, smoother. “Tell me your colour, sweetheart.”

You swallowed, barely able to think past the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Green.”

Austin hummed, pleased. “Good girl.”

Then, without warning, he pulled back.

Your breath caught as you watched him lean back onto his knees, reaching for the hem of his shirt. And then—he pulled it over his head.

Fuck.

The sight of him—bare, toned, gorgeous, every inch of him flushed with heat, the faintest sheen of sweat on his chest—made your stomach tighten, fluttering, wanting. Your thighs shifted.

His smirk deepened as he stood and kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him completely bare. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes dropped—

And your stomach flipped.

Austin was hard.

Painfully, devastatingly hard.

For you.

And when his fingers wrapped around himself, a soft, helpless sound slipped from your throat.

Austin groaned, slow and low, stroking himself, taking his time, letting you watch. “See what you do to me?”

Your whole body flushed, the heat crawling down your chest, your stomach, settling low, low, low. You could barely think past it, past the way his hand moved, past the way his muscles tensed, past the way he let you take in every inch of him, knowing exactly what it was doing to you.

Austin exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head like he was just as wrecked as you were. “You like watching, don’t you?”

You barely had it in you to answer. “…Yes.”

Austin’s grin deepened. He leaned in again, one hand still lazily stroking himself, the other trailing up your stomach, between your breasts, wrapping gently around your throat. Not squeezing. Not holding. Just resting there. Letting you feel the warmth of his palm, the weight of his touch, the control of it. His lips hovered over yours, so close you could taste his breath.

“You ready for your next instruction, baby?”

Your pulse pounded, heat curling tighter in your stomach, everything in you locked onto him, onto the moment, onto the way his fingers flexed lightly around your throat. You swallowed, shivering beneath his touch.

“Yes.”

Austin’s thumb dragged over your pulse point, slow, approving. His voice came low, dark, commanding.

“Tell me what you want.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t know—God, you knew. But saying it out loud, admitting it, asking for it—that was part of the game, wasn’t it?

Austin’s lips quirked, like he could see your hesitation, like he knew exactly what was happening in your head.

His grip stayed firm around himself as he watched you, his strokes slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second. “Come on, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, coaxing, but edged with quiet authority. “Use your words.”

His other hand shifted, fingers sliding lower, tracing over your collarbone, then lower still, skimming the valley between your breasts, dragging the moment out.

Your whole body tensed, trembling. Your nails curled into the sheets, your thighs twitching as you sucked in a sharp breath.

“…I want you to touch me.”

Austin’s smirk deepened, but his eyes stayed locked onto yours, steady, dark, unwavering. “Where?”

Your face flushed hot. “You know where.”

Austin tutted, shaking his head, clearly enjoying every second of this. His fingers traced over your stomach, light and teasing, never quite dipping lower. “I do,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “But I wanna hear you say it.”

Your stomach tightened. He was dragging it out, keeping you hovering right on the edge of desperation, making you admit exactly what you needed.

You swallowed hard. Then—

“My pussy,” you breathed. “I want your mouth on me.”

Austin groaned, his jaw tightening. His fingers flexed around his cock, the slow pull of his strokes matching the way his eyes raked over you, hungry, dark, full of nothing but want.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “Look at you.”

Your breath caught, your body thrumming at the way he was looking at you—like you were something to be devoured.

Then—without breaking eye contact—Austin slid further down, shifting between your legs.

You barely had time to process it before his hands were on your thighs, holding you open, keeping you exactly how he wanted.

He was so close.

His breath ghosted over your already aching, throbbing heat, teasing, lingering, letting you feel just how close he was to giving you exactly what you needed.

You whimpered, breath shuddering.

Austin smirked. “You’re already shaking, sweetheart.”

Then—he licked.

A slow, wet, devastating drag of his tongue, pressing just enough to make your whole body jolt.

Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but Austin’s grip tightened instantly, keeping you open, keeping you where he wanted.

“Ah-ah,” he murmured, his voice rough, dark, indulgent. “Stay still for me.”

Your breath hitched.

He did it again, a slow, torturous flick of his tongue, followed by the softest, teasing suction around your clit.

Your whole body arched, a desperate, broken sound slipping from your lips.

Austin groaned, sucking harder, his grip tightening, keeping you locked in place as his mouth worked you over with calculated precision.

Your fingers clenched the sheets, your stomach tightening, the pleasure coiling low, deep, unbearable.

And the worst part?

He wasn’t going fast.

Austin was taking his time, savoring the way your body tensed, trembled, begged for more.

Your head dropped back against the pillows, a wrecked whimper spilling from your lips.

Austin chuckled against you, sending vibrations straight through your core. “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, almost to himself.

You gasped, your hands twitching, aching to reach for him, to grab his hair, to pull him closer—

But you didn’t.

You remembered the rules.

You stayed still.

Austin noticed.

And he rewarded you.

His tongue flicked faster, the pressure increasing, circling, sucking, stroking—

You gasped, thighs trembling, vision hazy.

Austin groaned against you, his hands digging into your thighs, keeping you open, keeping you his.

Then—he pulled back.

A strangled, desperate whimper tore from your throat.

Austin grinned, his lips slick, his breath heavy. “You wanna come, baby?”

You were shaking. “Yes,” you choked out.

Austin tilted his head, dragging his thumb through the mess he’d made of you, barely applying pressure, just enough to drive you insane.

“Then beg for it.”

“Please, Austin.”

The words slipped from your lips, barely more than a whimper.

Austin grinned against your skin. “You can do better than that, baby.”

His fingers flexed over your thighs, keeping them spread, keeping you open. “Tell me exactly what you need.”

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering, voice shaking.

“Please, I—I want to come.”

Austin hummed, dragging his lips over the inside of your thigh, teasing, slow. “Where?”

Heat rushed through your chest, down your stomach, pooling between your legs. You could barely breathe past it. You whimpered, your fingers twisting into the sheets. “I want to come on your mouth.”

A groan rumbled in Austin’s chest, deep, wrecked, satisfied. “That’s my girl.”

Then—he gave you exactly what you begged for.

His mouth was back on you in an instant, hot, wet, relentless.

His tongue flicked over your clit, faster now, harder, a devastating contrast to the slow, torturous teasing from before.

Your back arched off the bed, a wrecked moan ripping from your throat.

Austin held you down, kept you right where he wanted, kept you pinned beneath the weight of his control.

His tongue moved in perfect, ruthless strokes, sucking, circling, flicking, dragging you closer and closer to the edge—

You gasped, whimpered, your thighs trembling violently.

Austin could feel it.

His grip tightened, his tongue working you over with precise, practiced pressure, his groan vibrating against you.

You were so fucking close, dangling over the edge, the pleasure spiraling, cresting, blinding.

Your body locked up, your breath catching—

Austin felt the shift immediately.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t ease up.

Didn’t let up until—

Pleasure slammed through you, sharp and overwhelming, ripping you apart at the seams.

Your whole body shook, wrecked, trembling, your pulse thundering, your thighs squeezing against Austin’s grip.

Austin didn’t let go.

He held you down, held you through it, his mouth still moving, still licking, still pushing you through every last wave of it.

You let out a helpless sob, your vision white-hot, your body pulsing.

Austin groaned against you, licking you through every last tremor, refusing to let you come down easily.

You were panting, gasping, wrecked, every nerve still tingling, your body limp against the sheets.

Finally, finally, Austin pulled back.

His lips were slick, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. He watched you carefully, his hands still warm on your thighs, grounding you.

His gaze dragged up your body, dark and heated, but laced with something softer, more thoughtful.

“You still with me, baby?” His voice was low, warm, edged with something indulgent but unmistakably careful.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah.”

Austin smirked, his thumb tracing absentminded circles over your hip. “Good.”

His hands skimmed up your body, slow, deliberate, savoring every inch of your skin as he moved.

“Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath shuddered, your pulse still pounding, your body still buzzing from the last orgasm he’d pulled from you.

The thought sent a ripple of heat through your core—because you wanted more. You knew you did. But your muscles were already trembling, every inch of you sensitive, flushed, wrecked.

Could you handle it?

Austin must have seen the flicker of hesitation on your face, because his touch softened, his gaze sharpening in that way it always did when he was reading you.

His fingers traced over your hip, soothing, grounding.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was warm, patient, steady.

You swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”

Austin hummed, shifting his weight, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the center of your stomach. “Talk to me.”

You breathed, trying to gather your thoughts past the haze of lingering pleasure.

“I want to.” Your voice was soft, hoarse. Shaky, but sure.

Austin’s lips quirked into something softer, something knowing. “But?”

You exhaled, flushing. “I don’t know if I can.”

Austin smiled, dragging his lips up your ribs, your sternum, working his way higher.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby.” His voice was like silk, smooth and firm all at once. “You just have to let me take care of you.”

A slow exhale left your lips, your body instinctively relaxing beneath him.

You trusted him.

You wanted this.

Austin’s hand slid over your thigh, coaxing, encouraging, wordlessly reassuring.

“Just tell me,” he murmured against your jaw, his voice low, patient. “Green or yellow?”

Your stomach flipped.

You knew what he was asking.

You swallowed, exhaled.

“Green.”

A slow, approving hum rumbled from Austin’s chest. His lips brushed against yours—light, teasing.

“Good girl.”

Then—he kissed you.

Not gentle.

Not careful.

Deep. Consuming. Possessive.

Your body arched beneath him, your legs parting, welcoming him in.

Austin’s hand gripped your thigh, hooking it higher over his hip, adjusting you exactly how he wanted.

Your breath hitched as he rocked forward, teasing you with the thick, aching length of him, sliding through your slickness, pressing just enough—just barely—without giving you what you needed.

You whimpered, hips shifting, chasing him.

Austin smirked against your lips, his grip tightening, keeping you still.

“Uh-uh.” His voice was low, commanding. “You wait for me.”

Your pulse pounded, every muscle locking up with restraint.

Austin groaned quietly, adjusting his angle, his teasing measured, deliberate. Then—he pressed in.

A slow, steady push, stretching you, filling you, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

You gasped, your fingers clawing at his back, your legs trembling around him.

Austin let out a deep, ragged moan, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath uneven, his muscles tense.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

You weren’t sure if it was for you or for himself.

Maybe both.

His hand gripped your thigh tighter, holding you open for him, anchoring you beneath him.

You felt every inch of him, every slow pulse, every deep throb.

Austin’s lips brushed against your temple, down to your jaw, his breath hot, measured, steady even as his muscles trembled with restraint.

“You still doing okay, baby?” His voice was rough now, strained.

You nodded quickly, desperately. “Yes.”

Austin groaned, gripping your hip before drawing back—just enough—before thrusting forward, pushing deeper, pulling another gasping moan from your lips.

The rhythm was slow at first, controlled, dragging the pleasure out until you were whimpering beneath him, until your nails dug into his shoulders.

Then—he picked up the pace.

Deeper.

Harder.

Austin set the rhythm, and you followed.

Your body clung to him, heat tightening, winding, pressing, overwhelming.

The pleasure was almost too much, too sharp, too good.

Austin felt it.

He let out a low, strangled moan, his lips parting, his brows furrowing as he watched you, felt you, attuned to every tiny shift, every helpless gasp, every flutter around him.

“You close, baby?” His voice was lower now, breathless, edged with pure need.

You barely had it in you to speak. “Yes—”

Austin smirked, tilting your chin up, kissing you through it, swallowing your gasps as he drove into you harder, faster, deeper.

Your body shook beneath him, already sensitive, already teetering on the edge again.

Austin’s hand slid between you, fingers finding your clit, pressing, circling—

Your whole body locked up, the pleasure ripping through you again, sharper, hotter.

“Austin—”

His pace faltered, his grip tightened, his body pressed deeper.

The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, consuming, wrecking, tearing through every last nerve.

But Austin didn’t stop.

He groaned low in his throat, his grip on your hip tightening, holding you in place as he kept moving—deep, steady thrusts that sent aftershocks rolling through you, making you gasp, making your thighs shake.

You whimpered, still pulsing around him, still too sensitive, too wrecked—but Austin wasn’t done.

Not yet.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gritted out, his forehead pressing against yours. His pace didn’t slow—if anything, it got rougher, more desperate, like he was chasing the high he’d been holding back all night.

Your hands scrambled for purchase, slipping from his shoulders to his biceps, feeling them tense beneath your fingers. Every muscle in his body was tight with restraint, trembling with the effort of keeping himself from losing control completely.

But he was slipping.

You could hear it in his breath, feel it in the way his rhythm stuttered, in the way his hips snapped against yours harder, deeper, a low, wrecked moan spilling from his lips when you clenched around him again.

Your body tried to shy away, the oversensitivity sending sharp, electric jolts through you—but Austin’s hands were there, steady, grounding.

His hand gripped your thigh, pinning you open, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“Stay with me,” he murmured against your skin, voice low, rough, barely more than a growl. “I know, sweetheart. You can take it. Just a little more.”

You whined, barely able to breathe past the overstimulation, your body helpless against the way he was still driving into you, chasing his own release now, his self-control unraveling thread by thread.

He buried his face against your neck, his breath coming hot and heavy, his groans turning into something almost desperate.

“Fuck—fuck—”

His hips slammed into yours once, twice, and then—

Austin broke.

A deep, wrecked moan tore from his throat as he drove himself deep, his body locking up, his grip on you tightening as he finally, finally let go.

You felt the heat of him spill inside you, felt the way his whole body shuddered with the force of it, how his arms trembled as they held you close.

Your body felt boneless, spent, trembling, your breath uneven, your mind lost in the haze.

Austin stayed inside you, anchoring you, grounding you.

His breath was still heavy, his hands slow as they traced over your skin, soothing you, easing you through it.

But even as the last tremors faded, you could still feel the heat lingering, still burning just beneath the surface.

Austin felt it, too.

He smirked, pressing slow kisses along your jaw, down your throat, his fingers still stroking your skin.

“You did so good for me,” he murmured against your collarbone.

Your body shuddered.

Austin exhaled slowly, letting himself rest against you for a moment, his body warm and heavy, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses against your shoulder. His touch was different now—gentle, reverent, like he was giving you a moment to settle, to breathe.

Carefully, he eased out of you, a quiet groan catching in his throat at the loss of warmth. His hands smoothed down your sides, grounding you, reassuring, as your body gave a soft, involuntary shudder.

You didn’t move. Not yet.

Your limbs felt loose, your mind still floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion, the aftershocks still buzzing faintly beneath your skin.

Austin pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your ribs. He wasn’t in a rush, wasn’t pushing. He was just here, watching you, waiting.

Then, his lips brushed over your cheek, his voice low, coaxing.

“Talk to me, baby. How do you feel?”

You inhaled shakily, still catching your breath, still feeling the warmth of his body, the press of his hands. You swallowed, licking your lips, trying to find the words.

“…Good,” you murmured, your voice soft, slightly hoarse. “Really good.”

Austin hummed, his lips curving against your skin. “Yeah?”

You nodded, shifting just slightly, rolling your shoulders, feeling the way your body still trembled, still hummed with lingering heat.

Austin let out a quiet chuckle, his thumb stroking slow circles against your hip. “Think you can take one more?”

Your stomach flipped, your pulse jumping, your body already stirring with something darker, hotter, more desperate.

You hesitated for just a second, just long enough to feel the weight of the moment, the anticipation curling in your stomach. Your body was spent, sensitive, wrecked—but you wanted it. Wanted him.

You exhaled sharply, your voice shaky, but certain.

“Yes.”

Austin’s smirk widened.

“Good girl.”

Austin pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his breath still hot against your skin. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, grounding you, even as the heat still burned just beneath the surface.

You exhaled shakily, your body still trembling from the last orgasm.

Austin hummed, satisfied, pressing a kiss to your other shoulder before murmuring against your skin—

“Turn over for me.”

Your stomach flipped.

You were already sensitive—wrecked, overstimulated, every nerve raw and frayed—but the way he said it, low and sure, made your body move before your brain could even catch up.

Slowly, you shifted, rolling onto your stomach, the sheets cool against your heated skin. Your breath shuddered as Austin’s hands immediately found your hips, guiding you, adjusting you exactly how he wanted.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers stroking over the curve of your waist, your lower back, down to your thighs. “Just like that.”

Then, softer—“Colour?”

You swallowed, heat coiling in your stomach, your body still thrumming from everything he’d already given you.

“…Green.”

Austin’s lips quirked, his touch growing bolder. “That’s my girl.”

You buried your face in the pillow, trying to steady your breathing, but then—

His fingers trailed lower.

A slow, teasing drag between your thighs, over the soaked mess of you, still throbbing from the last orgasm.

You jolted. “Austin—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, soothing, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t pull back. His touch remained slow, steady, deliberate. “You can take it.”

Your body trembled beneath him, already teetering on the edge of too much, but it felt so good. The angle, the way you were stretched beneath him, every nerve ending focused solely on the way his fingers teased, traced, pressed—

Then—he pushed inside.

A slow, deep thrust of his fingers, curling downward, pressing against that devastating spot with unrelenting precision.

Your whole body jerked.

Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp, your thighs twitching as the pressure built too fast, too sharp, too much.

Austin groaned softly, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, keeping you right where he wanted. “That’s it,” he murmured, stroking deep, coaxing, pushing you higher, higher, higher.

You whimpered, your body writhing, pressing into the mattress, your hips shifting involuntarily, chasing the pressure, the friction, the overwhelming sensation.

Austin’s pace stayed slow, unyielding, making you feel every stroke, every deep curl of his fingers.

A tight, relentless pressure coiled low in your stomach, sharp and insistent, an unfamiliar urgency creeping in, almost too much.

“I—” You gasped, a broken sound slipping from your lips. “I feel like—I need to—”

A flicker of panic shot through your chest. It was too much, too overwhelming, too unfamiliar. The pressure in your stomach coiled tight—

“Yellow.” The word left your lips on a breath, instinctual, unstoppable.

Austin reacted instantly. His fingers slowed, his free hand smoothing over your lower back, grounding you. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice steady, reassuring. “You’re safe. Talk to me.”

You shuddered beneath him, breath shaky. “It’s just—” You swallowed hard. “It feels like—I need to—pee.”

Austin paused—just for a second—but there was no hesitation in the way his fingers smoothed over your skin, keeping you grounded. “I know, baby.” His voice was warm, patient, laced with quiet encouragement. “You don’t have to fight it. Just let go.”

Your body trembled beneath him, caught between tension and release.

“You trust me?” Austin murmured, his fingers stroking over your hip, grounding.

“Yes.”

“Then let me take care of you.”

His hand resumed its slow, coaxing rhythm, gentler this time, guiding you back toward the edge. His voice stayed low, soothing, wrapping around you like silk.

“You’re doing so well for me.” A kiss to the back of your neck. “Just let it happen, sweetheart.”

Your whole body tensed, locked, trapped in the overwhelming crest of it, hovering right on the edge of something devastating.

Austin didn’t let up.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his tone smooth but firm, his fingers pressing deeper, faster, until—

It broke.

The orgasm tore through you, white-hot and all-consuming, pulling a sob from your lips as your body surrendered completely. The release hit so hard your vision blurred, and then—

A rush of liquid warmth spilled from you, drenching his hand, soaking into the sheets beneath you, making you gasp at the sensation.

Austin’s breath hitched.

“Fuck—”

He groaned softly, working you through it, his other hand smoothing up your back, whispering soft praises as you trembled beneath him.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with awe. “So fucking beautiful.”

Tears leaked from your eyes, your body sagged, completely wrecked, completely spent. Your breath came in uneven gasps, your limbs heavy, your skin damp with sweat and pleasure.

Austin held you, soothed you, his voice low, grounding. “You’re okay, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You barely registered the way he eased his fingers from you, barely noticed the warmth of his hands smoothing over your back, coaxing you down from the high.

Everything felt distant. Warm. Floating.

Austin didn’t move away—not yet. He just held you, breathing slow and steady against your skin, letting you feel the warmth of him. His fingers smoothed through your hair, his lips brushing soft, lingering kisses along your spine, whispering quiet praises.

A deep, shuddering exhale left your lips as you slowly blinked back into the present, still feeling the aftershocks rolling through you.

Austin’s arms wrapped around you, his chest warm against your back, his lips brushing over your shoulder, still holding you, still anchoring you.

And when you finally, finally turned your head to look at him, his expression was pure awe.

“Baby,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a tear from your cheek. “That was—”

You swallowed, your throat tight, emotions swelling thick in your chest. “I…” You let out a breathless, dazed laugh. “I think you broke me.”

Austin chuckled softly, nuzzling against your temple. “Never, sweetheart.”

Then, softer—

“You are so fucking perfect.”

Austin stayed close, his body pressed warm and solid against your back, his arms wrapping around you like he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. His lips traced slow, lazy kisses along your shoulder, up to the curve of your neck, his breath still a little uneven, but steadying.

His hands moved over you in slow strokes, smoothing down your arms, your back, your waist—grounding, reassuring. Not because you seemed unsteady, but because he wanted to. Because he needed to.

“You did so fucking good for me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and warm, full of something deeper than satisfaction.

Your chest rose and fell in slow, uneven breaths, your limbs still heavy, still tingling with the aftershocks of everything he’d pulled from you. But there was something else now—a deep, settled warmth, a sense of being completely held, completely seen.

Austin shifted, slipping one arm beneath you, the other wrapping tighter around your waist as he turned you in his arms, rolling you onto your side so you were facing him. His blue eyes searched yours, checking, reading, waiting.

“How are you feeling?”

You exhaled a slow breath, your lips parting, your voice barely above a whisper.

“…Floaty.”

Austin smiled, his fingers brushing over your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle now. “Yeah?”

You nodded, sinking further into his warmth, his presence, his care.

Austin studied you for a moment, then pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”

A sleepy hum left your lips as he carefully pulled back, shifting off the bed. You barely had time to miss the warmth of him before he was back, gently rolling you onto your back, pressing one more kiss to your stomach before grabbing a warm cloth to clean you up.

His touch was careful, slow, reverent.

And when he was done, he pulled the covers up over you, making sure you were comfortable before slipping back in beside you.

Immediately, you curled into him, your head pressing against his chest, your fingers lightly gripping at his side, as if holding onto the steady, grounding weight of him.

Austin exhaled softly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you in, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

“You still floaty?” he asked after a moment, amusement threading through the warmth of his voice.

You let out a small, contented sigh. “Mhm.”

Austin chuckled, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles over your back.

For a while, there was only silence—the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the feeling of his fingers smoothing over your skin, the warmth of his body keeping you cocooned in a soft, safe haze.

Then, his voice came, low and quiet.

“You know how proud I am of you, right?”

Your stomach fluttered.

Austin’s fingers found your chin, gently tilting your face up until your eyes met his.

“You trusted me,” he murmured, his gaze deep, his thumb brushing slow, thoughtful circles over your jaw. “And you let go. You let me take care of you.”

Your chest tightened—not with nerves, not with uncertainty, but with something softer, warmer, deeper.

“I liked it,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

Austin’s expression softened into something almost unreadable—something that looked a lot like pure, unfiltered adoration.

His lips brushed against yours, a featherlight, lingering kiss. “I know, baby.”

And then, with quiet certainty—

“We’ll do it again.”

Your stomach flipped, excitement curling low in your belly, but for now, you were content to just be here, wrapped up in him, letting the warmth of his words settle deep into your bones.

Austin shifted, tucking you closer, pressing another kiss to your temple.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his arms tightening just a little more. “I’ve got you.”

And this time, when your eyes fluttered shut, there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind.

Because you knew—

He did.

Taglist:

@thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @butlerrizz @myradiaz @chocolatetree222

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #fan fiction #fanfic #imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfic #austinbutler #austin butler x

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potatoplace · 2 months ago

Text

Game Night

💖 Valentine's Collection 2025: Monopoly 💖

Nessian x Reader | Azris x Reader | Cazriel x Reader

Summary: Game night with your partners means three things: chaos, anger, and sexual tension.

Warnings: daddy kink oops, don't think there's anything else tho

Words: 1,224

Author's Note: this was soooo soo sOoo much fun omg. I loved Nessian's the most, cause they're the ones I had in mind when I made the poll 😂 and uhhh the Azris one... got uh. More daddy-y than I'd planned but I'm not mad. I hope you guys like it!! Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍❤️🤍

“No, no, NO!” Cassian yelled as the dice stopped on doubles sixes, moving him from your hotel on Marvin’s Garden to Nesta’s hotel on Boardwalk.

“Yes!” Nesta cheered, a fist pumping into the air. “You’re going down, pretty boy!”

Cassian rifled through his stack of money that had already been cut into heftily from his last turn, leaving him with just ones and fives, his cheeks red. “I swear, Nes, you’re going to land on Illinois and then Pennsylvania Avenue and give me everything back.”

“Fat chance, Cassie, I’m going to bleed. You. Dry,” Nesta hissed, her hands clawing at the edges of the table.

“Okay, let’s cool it a little bit, guys,” you interjected, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that was quickly building to an unstoppable point.

As usual.

“Yeah, Nes, take you turn,” Cassian sneered at her, and you shot him a dirty look. He at least had the decency to look ashamed for five seconds, that’s more than he normally would.

Nesta rolled the dice, Cassian chanting for her to get a seven under his breath, only to yell when she rolled an eight, skipping right past his hotel on Illinois in favor of one of her railroads. “Would you look at that, Cassian, I seem to owe no money to anyone at this table.”

You sighed and scooped up the dice, hoping that your turn would help distract them from each other. Your hands shook the dice and loosed them, landing on a solid four - leaving you on free parking, which currently held over $1000 in Nesta’s income tax landings.

“Oh, you bitch!” Nesta yelled at you, though her hand landed on your arm gently, reassuring you that she may be loud, but she’s not truly angry with you.

You giggled at her as you raked in your new stack of bills, your wealth nearly equal with hers now.

“Oh, fuck me,” Cassian groaned. He never liked when the two of you were on top, as you rarely made someone go bankrupt, and Nesta would loan you money if you needed some - you are her princess are all. Meaning Cassian would have mercy from you, but all of Nesta’s mercy had been given to you.

“I can certainly arrange that, if you can’t pay for Boardwalk the next time you land on it,” Nesta said with a smirk, her eyes promising that she would offer such a trade.

“Over my dead body,” Cassian said, grabbing the dice again and rolling a ten, landing him at Nesta’s hotel on Connecticut Avenue. “FUCK!”

🤍💙🤍🧡🤍

“That will be $1000, Y/N,” Eris said from across the table, his amber eyes glinting as he watched you fidget in your seat.

You bit your lip as you looked from him to your stack of money, knowing that you had less than half of what you needed, and you’d already traded away most of your properties. “Can I owe you one?” You asked, knowing the limited likelihood that he would agree.

“No, that isn’t the rule of the game, bunny. You either pay up or go bankrupt, I’m sorry to say,” he said, though his smirk told you he wouldn’t be sorry. After all, whenever you went bankrupt you chose one of them to cuddle with until they finished battling it out.

You turned your gaze to Azriel, his hazel eyes already trained on you.

“How much do you need, bunny?”

You smiled and bit your lip before counting the money that you had left. “Uhm… $637?” Azriel counted out $700 for you and held his hand out, taking it back before you could take it. You rolled your eyes and stood up, going over by him to give him a long kiss, your mouths only separating when Eris coughed, annoyed. “Thank you, Azzie,” you said, giving him another kiss, on his cheek this time. “Here you go, Eris,” You said brightly, handing him the money.

“You know, it’s against the spiritual rules of the game to bail someone out, Azriel,” Eris said as he grabbed the dice.

“But she’s so adorable Eris, especially after you’ve rejected her offer of paying you back later. I mean,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your head so you were facing him. “Could you say no to that face?”

Eris opened his mouth, but you slid your lip into a pout and squinted your eyes like you were going to cry.

He sighed. “No, I can’t. Come on, Y/N, just give up and come sit on daddy’s lap, hmm?” The request sent heat straight to your core, and your cheeks that Azriel was still holding onto.

“Or you could come sit on my lap, babygirl,” Azriel said, turning your face back to him. “I did just save you from bankruptcy.”

Your eyes flicked between the two of them.

“No, I think I’m fine for now, after all, I’m not bankrupt thanks to you, daddy,” you said softly, relishing in the light blush that dusted Azriel’s cheeks.

“See, Az? She does it every time!” Eris insisted, finally shaking the dice in his hands. “Just wait, you’ll be in my lap in no time, bunny.”

🤍❤️🤍💙🤍

“Ah, shit,” Cassian groaned as you landed on Pennsylvania Avenue, where Azriel had just put up a hotel. “Do you have enough money to pay for that, baby?”

You rolled your eyes at him. You were doing far better than he was this game, having slightly tricked him and Azriel into giving you all of their pieces of lower-priced property, leaving you owning two sides of the board, utilities and railroads included.

“I think I do, Cassie, thank you though,” you smiled at him, pulling out the money that you owed Azriel.

“Thank you,” Azriel said quietly as he put the money away in the proper order, both of you sharing the vast majority of the money. “Time for you to go, Cassian. And you should be asking if you have enough money,” he pointed out, waving at the part of the board he was on: your territory.

“Oh, I’ll be just fine, I’m going to skate by on chance and community chest, brother,” Cassian boasted as he picked up the dice and rolled them.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him landing on one of your hotels a moment later, biting your lip to keep your joy from being too obvious. You’d always found it funny how confident Cassian was, even when he sucked at the game like he did with monopoly.

“Pay up, big guy,” you said, extending a hand.

“I don’t-“ he sighed loudly. “Fuck you, Azriel!”

“What did I do?” Azriel asked with a brow raised.

“Well, I can’t say that to Y/N, now can I?! So fuck you!”

Az rolled his eyes at him. “Can you pay her, or not?”

“Yeah, Cassie, it’s only right to pay your debts,” you teased as he began counting out money, coming up a couple hundred short. He grumbled as he picked off a few houses from his monopoly, and pushed the money into your hands.

“Thank you, Cass,” you said, catching his eyes. “You know I love you, no matter how poor you are in monopoly, right?”

He let out an amused huff, and grinned. “If you love me so much, will you give me one of your monopolies?”

“Not a chance.”

🧡💙🤍❤️🩶

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad

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totallynotashieldagent · 4 months ago

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His Sweet Treat

Pairing: Beast World Jason Todd/Reader

Summary: Reader and Jason were together before he turned into a Beast. They're still together even now.

Author's Note: Everyone say thank you to @peachyyydrawz for making this Jason in this muzzle that inspired this monster smut for the new year.

hopefully this monster cock will bring prosperity and good fortune for us all in 2025.

“Don’t you dare whine now.” You huffed as you tied the muzzle around Jason’s snout and clipped it snuggly behind his head.

The big burly beast tried to give you his best green puppy eyes and whined again. Pawing at the muzzle once more, nuzzling against your knee, begging to be let loose.

“Nuh-uh!” You shook your head again. “This is staying on .” You glared and his ears flattened out. “We wouldn’t be needing this if someone didn’t lose control last night and tried biting at me while we fucked.”

Jason immediately deflated at your crass words.

That trait was still extremely human about him. How he got so shy whenever you talked about sex or anything sexual.

“What?” You mused, “Don’t wanna talk about it now, huh?” You giggled softly, pulling at his muzzle, bringing his face close to yours, “You were very vocal yesterday.”

He growled, pawing you away, trying to hide his face or himself entirely. Neither was possible. He was still too big, and you were still too confrontational.

Jason finally managed to get away from your hands. Both his front paws hid his face as he crouched down to kneel at your feet. His muzzle scratched at your legs in protest. He was still very unhappy about it and deeply embarrassed of how crude you were now being.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” You petted him like a dog.

God, he hated how good it felt. How much he loved it.

If he was still human, he would’ve told you to stop treating him like a pet but right now? Right now he felt like the world could burn and he wouldn’t care since your hands were touching him like that. God - His tail thumped against the ground.

It didn’t matter that he was a seven-foot giant beast. For you? He was a docile little puppy. Eager to please, eager to be good .

“Muzzle stays on, okay?” You cooed at him, “And I’ll let you do that thing again that you did last night…”

Incentive? Jason’s ears perked up, his tail swishing side to side in anticipation. He nudged your knee and nodded quickly. He still hated this stupid muzzle. He couldn’t nip at you, lick you, and more importantly, he couldn’t leave any bite marks on you; which were very important to him because he liked marking you so much. But he knew he’d also do anything to be rewarded for being good.

The whole day, he followed you around like a puppy. Helping however he could with whatever needed to be fixed in the safe house.

After dinner, he laid flat on the floor, looking up at you. All four paws tucked underneath him.

“You’re making a mess, Jay.” You laughed softly, a little salvia dripping from his muzzle. “Drooling like a puppy …” You said sultrily, just to egg him on.

A soft growl escaped him. He was already apologetic about misbehaving and being put in the stupid muzzle and now he felt like you were mocking him on top of it. He leaned up on his front hinds, his bright green eyes showing clear intention of Take off this muzzle and I’ll show you a mess.

“No, baby. You lost control last night, remember?” You petted him gently. “I like the tiny bites here and there but you tore through the pillows. The couch is completely unusable now.” You pouted, scolding him and trying to keep yourself calm in the process too. As if him being a feral beast didn’t turn you on even more.

In reality, you’d cum hard when he’d lost control. But in hindsight, currently, you were trying to make sure everything stayed safe if you two continued to … well, stay a couple.

Jason had always been bigger. Even as a human. But now? As a beast? He was huge. But you weren’t deterred by that. He was still him and he was still yours .

He whimpered again, leaning up more, carefully treading further and further. Looking up at you, hoping you’d just give in if he gave you his puppy-eyes long enough. It usually worked. He knew it worked. You never stayed mad at him long, it was easy to sway you. You were so weak for him.

The muzzle pressed against your thigh as he put his big face on your lap. He wanted to ignore the way you smelled but being this close, all he wanted to do was bury his snout in between your legs. Devour you whole but this godforsaken muzzle was in the fucking way.

Jason growled again. This was more aggressive. Not the pleading, whining one from a few minutes ago. This was a warning for you to remove it or he’d make you sorry.

You swallowed, looking down at him, his bright eyes looking up. Challenging you. A part of you wanted to take it off but the stronger part of you, wanted to say no. Wanted to push him, to make him get angry and rough. To lose control again.

“Muzzle stays on.” You said again, your voice lacking conviction this time around, however.

Jason purred at your shaky voice, pulling back and standing to his full height. You gulped audibly, looking up at him. The sheer size of him shooting straight to your core. He took in a deep breath, hunching over, his muzzle almost touching your face.

He couldn’t speak anymore, but some words. Some choppy, growly, barely understandable ones would leave him if he forced it enough.

“ Off .” He snarled and you shook your head.

Your fists clenched at the edges of your dress. He gave you a once over. You were so fearless otherwise. But times like? In this safehouse, when he towered over you. You looked so small, so edible . He felt like the big bad wolf, and you? Fuck- You were his little red riding hood.

One arm wrapped around your waist, hoisting you up against his furry chest. You squeaked at the sudden movement but didn’t protest or try to get away. Why would you, anyway? Your hands pressed against his chest, disappearing into the thick coat.

Jason nudged at your face and like a docile prey, you craned your neck back for him. He inhaled deeply. You still smelled like him but the scent was fading quickly.

He growled again, his teeth scraping against his muzzle, drool dripping down. How badly he wanted to bite at the column of your throat, leave his mark, mate you even though it had already been done countless times over. But you made him feel a certain type of way and he used to be able to control it better when he was human. But now? Now, it was near fucking impossible .

One whiff of you was enough to send him into a spiral and bring out all his animalistic instincts to the surface.

You whimpered his name softly. The same way you’d last night when you’d arched under him and his claws had ripped into the sofa so deeply that it was a mess of cotton and wood right now.

Jason’s other paw clawed his the back of the muzzle. “ Off .” He growled darkly again and this time you were sure that your underwear soaked through.

“You’ll behave?” You shivered against him, your hands reaching out and resting at the buckle lock, not undoing it but giving him the opportunity to be good for you. His tail swished rapidly and he nodded. “It’ll go back on if you lose control again.”

That was a bald-faced lie. The muzzle wouldn’t go on unless he was actually close to causing damage or you wanted to rile him up to fuck you into oblivion.

His intense eyes were laser-focused on you. Like a dog waiting for his treat, his body was practically vibrating for you to take the offending muzzle off. As soon as the buckle lock clicked open, he snarled and moved with such quickness that you didn’t even have the time to react.

His warm wet tongue licked a stripe across your neck, tasting you and relishing in the saltiness of your skin.

“ Mate. ” Jason grumbled the single syllable and moved through the safe house swiftly.

The couch was destroyed. He didn’t want to take a chance and ruin the bed. It would be too hard to replace it given how difficult the world had become.

“Uhh- Jay?” You looked at him, he was holding you up and looking around for something. “Is everything fine?” You asked gently.

Jason nodded one and set you down on your feet, padding around the place. Using most of the destroyed parts of the couch and the cushions, he created a small den. When he was satisfied with the comfort of the surface, he came back to you, nudging at the small of your back, begging you to lay down for him.

“Okay, okay-” You laugh a little, “No pushing… yet .” You smiled at him, pulling off your clothes and moving to get comfortable on the pile of pillows, cushions and blankets.

Watching you, his tail was swishing so quickly from side to side in excitement. His was chest heaving with heavy breaths as his keen eyes followed every move you made.

Kneeling in the middle of it, you patted infront of you. Jason followed down immediately. His ears twitched with anticipation. His snout pressed at your knees and he inhaled deeply. Fuck- Your smell made his spine shiver and his chest puff up.

His tongue lapped at your knees, up your thighs, begging for you to open your legs for him. You bit your lip and leaned back onto your hands, your legs opening a little more for him. He growled softly, your scent getting stronger by the second for him. His snout pushed further up, his large body hunching over you until you laid under him. Submitting to the beast.

“ Mate .” He purred again, his paws wrapping around your waist and pulling you up at an angle that made you gasp.

Your back was in the air and as soon as his tongue dragged across your pussy, his blood ran hot with liquid fire.

His jaw closed around your pelvis and his tongue delved deep into your needy cunt. The sudden intrusion made your eyes roll back. You whimpered his name, your hands fisting at his fur, pulling and whining shamelessly.

Every pur, every growl he made, shivered up your spine and made you moan louder. And it only egged him on further. He was careful to not bite down too hard but the pretty noises you were making- they were making it very hard to keep it under control. He wanted so desperately to swallow you whole.

His tongue circled at your clit and just as you’d buck against his mouth, he’d move it down and move it fuck you in the most torturously slow pace. His thick warmth was delving deep into you and you were so close to becoming a babbling mess. And you hadn’t even been knotted yet.

You could feel his drool and your pussy juices dripping down your ass and up your back due to the angle he was holding you up at. You whined and moaned, but he wouldn’t let you cum.

This was definitely payback for keeping the muzzle on him all day.

Jason felt himself grow and harden as he devoured you, rutting against the floor to ease his ache.

You held his fur by the fistfuls, arching, trying to move , to grind, to cum but he wouldn’t let up. His warm thick tongue pistoned in and out of your pussy at a relentless pace. And every time he’d feel your body almost reaching to the tip, he’d slow down again. You hurled curses at him, pulling his fur almost painfully but he didn’t care.

You were finally under him and he was going to make you work for it.

“Please-” You begged shamelessly, “I can’t take it anymore-” You were able to grab at an ear and pull harshly.

Jason whined and pulled back, your body falling against the pillows with a soft plop . Your chest heaved as you caught your breath but he looked downright feral and annoyed at being made to pull off. He wiped his mouth, grinning and exposing his sharp teeth that had left dents into your skin.

Looming over you, hunching and covering your entire frame, your eyes darted down to his cock. It was unsheathed and looked far redder than usual. One paw held you down by your hips, licking you so completely that you felt drenched . He purred at the taste of you and your body erupted in goosebumps when the air touched the wet skin. His tongue swirled at your nipples, nipping and sucking them so fully that his entire jaw was open against your chest.

He pulled back just enough to admire your glistening skin. You smelled like him now. That’s exactly how he wanted you to be all the time . Wet, out of breath and his .

Jason hummed in satisfaction and then his mouth descended onto yours.

His tongue pushed into your mouth aggressively and his cock rubbed at your dripping cunt. He swallowed every needy sound you made and it only spurred him on more. With a sudden motion, he flipped you over and raised your hips into the air. You were putty in his hands and your desperate noises were a testament to that.

Your pussy clenched at nothing, desperate for anything at all. His eyes zeroed in on it and growled with satisfaction. The vibrations of which rumbled through his chest and across your back. You arched more, pushing back, needing something- anything at all.

The tapered tip of his cock pushed slightly into you, making you moan.

No matter how many times you’d had him, every time, it felt new and different. The tip alone was so exciting. The tip being pointed and slowly easing into you, then the thickness increasing as he’d keep pushing.

Jason was by no means small as a human- But as a beast? This felt so deep into you that you always felt the taste of his cum in the back of your throat.

One arm was curled around your waist to keep you up against him as he bottomed out into you and the other, the claws were clenched tightly into the pillows and cushions under you as he tried his best to not push too quickly and too hard.

He knew he could fuck you dumb one you were opened up enough for him but right now he had to be careful. He couldn’t break you. Not yet , at least.

His chest rumbled again, the vibrations shivering through your spine as he buried himself to the hilt in you. He waited, letting you adjust, lapping at your neck and back in broad strokes. You gasped for air, your insides fluttering around his throbbing length.

“ Please -” You whimpered, craving more- needing him to move.

Jason slowly pulled out and just as the tapered tip was only in your pussy, he slammed back in. His balls slapping harshly against your clit. You cried out loudly, pain and pleasure swirling together so deliciously. It felt like he was splitting you into two but gods above , it felt heavenly to feel this much all at once.

The sounds that were escaping his mouth were becoming more and more animalistic by the second as he rutted into you mercilessly. You were a fleshlight at this point for him because if he hadn’t been holding you up, you would’ve been a mess on the floor already.

With each thrust, he hit your cervix but it only sent a shivering sensation up your spine because the tip was soft and pointed. You moaned like a bitch in heat, matching his bestial pace. He leaned over, licking at your neck, craning your face back and lapping up the drool that was dripping from your mouth as you gasped every time he pistoned into you.

You creamed his unsheathed red cock so perfectly- The smell of which was intoxicating to Jason. He grunted as he felt the base of his dick swell.

You were so fucked dumb at this point, you weren’t even sure if you’d cum or not- or if you were simply so extremely overstimulated that every time he moved, your back arched and you mewled as if you were just as animal as him.

Jason purred the same choppy word in growls again and again. Mate. Mate. Mate .

His cock throbbed painfully as he continued his brutal assault into your cunt, your breath getting knocked out with every thrust. You gasped for air, your eyes rolling back, you weren’t sure if you were cumming or if you were about to pass out from absolute bliss.

“ Mine- ” He growled against your ear and his spark teeth closed around your shoulder.

You cried out at the harsh pain- His teeth didn’t break skin but it was still enough to make you dizzy. You felt yourself get stretched more again at his knot started to form.

Jason sat back on his hind legs and twisted you around to face him. You were a ragdoll in his hands as he held your smaller body in his massive paws and fucked you onto his cock like no tomorrow.

His bright green eyes were locked onto yours. He couldn’t knot you unless you agreed. He held himself back- trying his best to not let go if you weren’t all here with him. You gave the tiniest of nods possible and that was all he needed.

His tongue invaded your mouth, shoving deep into your throat as he moved your sloppy cunt up and down his red cock. With a final pull, he settled you down onto his knot and came.

You felt like your insides were melting as he shot hot ropes of cum deep into you. Your head falling back and you crying out in painful pleasure. The stretch and the warmth mixing together so filthily. You could feel him dripping down your thighs but you were locked on and there was no going anywhere.

Gently, Jason licked at your skin, nudging your face with his snout, making sure you were alright. You gave a barely audible hum and he relaxed slightly. He moved backwards and laid back into the den he’d made for you, letting you lay on top of him as his knot slowly subsided.

He knew he’d help clean you up and help you sleep against his warm fur. But that was for later.

For now, this was all he needed. You on top, locked onto him.

. . . Fic Master List.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #beast world #beast world jason todd #monster x reader #beast world jason todd x reader #monster smut #a happy smutty new year #happy new year #dc #i had to google wolf peens for this fic

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jostystyles · 2 months ago

Text

when i run out of road, you bring me home | sj

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARVY SORRY YOU LOST :( but anyways, this is a culmination of me yapping to @mattyanonwrites about jarvy. i also had casual by chappell roan stuck in my head writing this, so it’s loosely based off that as well. and also happy bday harry styles there’s references to you in here too.

warnings: mentions of marijuana and alcohol, brief mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k. this was supposed to be a blurb.

The blare of the alarm broke him out of a peaceful sleep. The kind that makes you not want to get up, and just stay in the comfort of the blankets and shielded from the real world. Seth sighed as he rolled over to silence the alarm, scrolling through the slew of texts he was already receiving. If he wasn’t already awake, he was now after seeing the notification he’s always looking for.

12:07 am

(Y/N) 🤒

happy birthday jarvy :) hope you have the best day. miss you and sorry i won’t be around today to see you.

His heart clenched, as he realized she was the first person that texted him. She was also the only person he wanted to actually see today. In all honesty, she was the only person he really wanted to see ever. He’d take her in any capacity he could get. Loving the message and replying with a quick “thanks, miss you” and dragged himself out of bed to go in the shower. As the water cascaded down his body, he couldn’t help but let the memories flow of just last week when she was here with him, their bodies wet and flush to each other as one. Turning the water cold, Seth shook his head and dragged his hands down his face with a sigh.

He rode to the rink in silence, aside from a nice phone call with his mom, the only thing surrounding him was the sound of Carolina by Harry Styles coming from his speakers. It was a song (Y/N) added to his playlist as a joke, but one he’d grown to genuinely enjoy. (In all honesty, he actually enjoyed Harry’s music which is something he’d never admit to anyone) Surprisingly, he was the last one to arrive to the arena for morning skate, a role which was usually reserved for KK. As if they had it rehearsed, the second he set foot in the room he was met with the glaring shrieks of Martinook and immediately encapsulated in a three way hug by KK, Andrei and Burnzie.

“Happy birthday Jarvyman!”

“Gee thanks guys,” he exclaimed, “I was afraid that blink 182 lyric was true for a second there.”

Rolling his eyes and shoving Seth away, Andrei let out a chuckle.

“You pumped for the late evening, eh? Win or lose tonight we are getting very drunk. Rented out the Local for a good time.”

Seth smiled, replying with a laugh of “Hell yeah man.”

Andrei noticed his friends spirit was a little deflated.

“Yeah? Any chance of uh, you know who making an appearance?”

Like a sleeper agent, Seth’s demeanor activated from distracted to focused almost instantly.

“Uh, probably not. She texted me that she won’t be around today. She’s stuck in New York City with work.”

That’s why he was sad, Andrei realized. (Y/N) wouldn’t be in attendance. He might be playing with fire by saying this, but he just had to ask.

“You guys are still doing that casual thing, yes?”

Sliding his practice sweater over his pads, Seth nodded.

“Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it.”

Casual. Except he was eating her out in the passenger seat of his car the other day. Casual, when her mom invited him to their beach house for (Y/N)’s birthday in the summer.

He had no right to be as upset as he was. She wasn’t his girlfriend. In all honesty, he didn’t even know what she was anymore. Three months ago, she was the frazzled college girl he met his first year in Raleigh that became his best friend. The girl he couldn’t live without. Three months ago, she was the girl whose couch he cried on after his ex girlfriend cheated on him. One thing led to another, and the next thing he knew they were waking up naked and agreeing to keep it casual. But Seth liked to be stupid, and the guys teased him for it. He realized been in love with (Y/N) over the summer, and has done nothing but daydream about it to anyone but her. Nellie laughed and called him a romantic when he was wasted and told her and KK about his feelings, saying how he saw (Y/N) living in his apartment, her cats, and maybe they’d have a dog by then. And she’d take him with her and show him off to her friends back home.

“No attachment, right?”

He should’ve said no. Please. I’m attached. But instead, he agreed. A decision he was certainly regretting right now as he threw back his third green tea shot of the night, chasing it with a sip of his beer.

Jesperi sighed watching his best friend sulk at his own birthday party. In the next 5 minutes though, he was either going to go down as the best friend in the world or never be spoken to again. Glancing down at his phone, the message he’d been anxiously awaiting most of the night came through.

11:39 pm

(Y/N)

ubers 2 min out. do you think he’s onto us yet?

No. He doesn’t suspect a thing. Walking around the whole day like a sad puppy. Even looked dejected after he scored

fuck yeah. not that he’s sad, but this is going to be the best surprise ever. i’m here. keep him distracted

Realizing Seth was about to turn and head his direction, he raced forward to slap him on the back and keep him facing away from the door.

“Eh buddy, enjoying your night?”

“Yeah man this is awesome. I’m kinda beat though, think I’m gonna head out soon.”

KK squinted, pulling his head back a bit. “Leaving your own birthday party early? You good Jarvyman?”

Seth shrugged. “Yeah. ‘sides (Y/N) said she was gonna call me when she got to her hotel from the event she was at, but she hasn’t called me yet.” As soon as he stopped talking, he felt a pair of soft arms snake around his waist.

“Yeah, sorry about that. My plane got delayed a few times. Sorry I’m late to the party.”

Whipping around faster than he could on skates, he was met with his favorite smile and the prettiest eyes he’d grown fond of looking into blinking excitedly at him.

“(Y/N)? You’re here? I thought- New York, and you’d be stuck until tomorrow, and…oh my god.” he trailed off, burying his head into her neck and breathing in the scent of her. He could feel the tears pricking his eyes as he swayed her back and forth.

Giggling, (Y/N) murmured into his ear, “Of course I’m here, Seth. I would’ve never missed this. Happy birthday my dear.” she finished, pressing a soft kiss to his scruffy cheek.

“Can we leave? Now, please? Just wanna be with you.” He mumbled back, still holding onto her.

“Already? I just got here! At least let me say hi to everyone before I go-“

“You’ll see them at the next game. Let’s go.” He said, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the bar. As they raced out, (Y/N) waved at Andrei and Jaccob, who were beside themselves with laughter at Seth’s sudden desire to leave his own party. Thankful he moved his car across the lot after the game, Seth opened (Y/N)s door for her before climbing into his own side of the car.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now. For the record, worst surprise ever. You showed up with only an hour left in my birthday.” He teased, fingers tapping the steering wheel with anxiety.

“Yeah well tell that to mother nature. I tried to get in so I could at least see the game, but we couldn’t depart JFK until the storm passed. I had to warn KK before puck drop to update our plans.”

“He was in on this?”

“Yeah, always. As soon as I found out I was going to come home today I texted him.”

“You guys suck. I don’t like being left out.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Jarvy, we were surprising you. We kind of had to leave you out.”

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from getting FOMO.”

The elevator ride up to his apartment was silent, which was unlikely for Seth. (Y/N) could tell he was on edge, and she wasn’t sure why. Before she could let her thoughts wander further, the bell dinged and they walked out hand in hand to his door.

Seth’s heart was racing. From almost bawling like a baby at the sight of her, he really hadn’t talked to (Y/N) that much since she got here. But in his own defense he didn’t think he’d have to do this so soon. Since she left last week, (Y/N) had left a void in Seth’s life. He’d always had her in some capacity since they came into each other’s lives. But lately, since they started whatever this thing they had going on, he craved her in every way imaginable. If all it took for him to realize he finally had to tell her how he felt was her going out of town, he’d have bought her a ticket a long time ago.

They stepped into his apartment, leaving their shoes by the door. As soon as (Y/N)s second boot was off her foot, Seth’s hands were grabbing her face, bringing it towards his own. His lips were soft on hers, and she could taste the cheap beer he’d been nursing all night. (Y/N) loved kissing him, but this one was different. Usually, every kiss they shared was fueled by pure lust, the marijuana smoke in their lungs or liquor in their veins providing accelerant. But this one, right now, was one fueled by something different.

Pulling away from her, his brown eyes wide, he rambled out, “I need to tell you something. Let’s go.”

“Seth. Honey, you’re scaring me. You’ve been weird all night, is everything okay?” (Y/N) asked, as they made their way to the couch.

“Yes it’s ok. I promise. Just please, listen to me, ok?” Seth replied, sliding himself into a position where he was kneeling in front of her, his head resting against her tummy. They’d been in this position many times before, but in his eyes this was the most intimate one yet.

“I don’t think I can be casual anymore. It’s getting too hard for me. Because I think it feels too real. And that’s what I want. The real thing. With you.”

“Seth, honey-“

“Wait please, let me get it out before you say anything, ok?” She nodded to him in response.

“I want to be yours. Your favorite bra is in my dresser, and I know my favorite jacket is at your place. I can’t call it casual when I was on the phone talking your sister down from dropping out of soccer. Or when you’re texting with Kayden about what he should buy his girlfriend at Ulta. Because that to me means we’re in this. And I try to be chill about it, and you know I love to talk but I try to hold my tongue on that topic because I want to give you space and not overwhelm you. But it’s overwhelming me. And I hate that I let this drag on so long because now I’m hating myself for not telling you sooner.”

“Oh, Jarvy. Don’t you know how much I love you?” (Y/N) replied, her acrylic nails scratching his head softly.

Seth must have died and gone to heaven. “You do?”

“Of course I do. I should’ve told you sooner. That night you kissed me, I decided that I’d have you in whatever way I could. And that meant being casual so it would hurt less when you eventually got tired of me. Because you were never really mine” (Y/N) confessed, sort of feeling a weight lift off her chest. She’s loved him for so long.

Seth moved so he was on top of her, her back pressed to the corner of the couch, their legs intertwined at the opposite end. “I love you. I love you so much. You’re my best friend. I’ll never get tired of you.”

(Y/N) giggled, leaning forward slightly to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “I know that now, silly boy.”

Seth rested his head on her boobs, his arms squeezing her waist a little tighter. Eyes closed, he laid there for a few minutes, listening to the beat of her heart, following the rise and fall of her breathing, and feeling the warmth of her hands in his hair.

“You know what would be the best birthday gift ever?”

“What’s that, honey?”

“For you to be my girlfriend.”

(Y/N) let out a cackle. “Well, it’s a good thing you asked because I left your other gift at my apartment.”

Jesperi was definitely getting an expensive gift for his birthday this year.

tags: @comphyjost @ilyasorokinn @lam-ila @2manytabsopen @laurenairay @leafsbabe

#some of my finest work i think!#anything for my pookie happy birthday pookie <3 #seth jarvis #seth jarvis x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #carolina hurricanes fic #nhl x reader #going to start writing while stoned more often

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strnilolover · 5 months ago

Text

NNN - chris sturniolo - long distances

You and Chris had been together for a little over a year, content with one another and the company each of you had to bring.

Before hand — you were good friends, best friends to be exact. Not with just him, but with his brothers too, and it was nice to know nothing really changed after putting a label on the two of you.

Chris and his brothers were already in their filming career when you had gotten together — making videos and posting them twice a week for their fan base that was already growing so large within a short amount of time.

Though, one day, while cuddled up with chris on your couch at your home — he broke the news to you.

He was moving to LA with Matt and Nick. Having already made enough money to afford a nice little place there. It was shocking to hear, and at first you were upset — upset with the fact you couldn’t see him everyday and you wouldn’t be around him when you needed him or wanted him.

But, the upset had been replaced with excitement over time. Thinking of all the possibilities for Chris and how amazing it was that he was able to do this with his brothers. And of all the stories you would be able to hear about his new life in a busy and bustling city.

When the day had finally come for him to move — it was spent with tears and hugs and promises to one another that everything would be okay.

And for the most part it was, you called every night — texted each other too many times through out the day and stayed connected. But, at some point things started to change. Chris grew more busy with work and with his clothing line he was starting, and the absence made you feel empty. Like he wasn’t even really there.

There were less calls, more messages being left on read or delivered — but Chris at least would tell you when he was busy and couldn’t talk, which you appreciated.

Eventually, everything began to weigh down on you. And you needed to tell him — needed to let him know how you were feeling. That you were having doubts.

Your room was quiet except for the faint hum of your laptop. Chris’ face filled the screen, his familiar features bathed in the soft light of his LA room. He looked tired, his curls messier than usual and his celtics hoodie hanging loosely on his frame. You tried to ignore the hollow ache in your chest as you smiled at him.

“How was your day?” you asked, forcing a casual tone as your eyes looked around your screen, taking in the view you’ve seen hundreds of times already.

Chris shrugged, leaning back against his chair. “Same as usual. Filmed with Nick and Matt, ran some errands. We tried this new sushi place for dinner. It was good, but, uh… not as good as Boston sushi.”

You let out a soft laugh, even though it stung a little. “Boston sushi is definitely better. How’s the apartment coming along?” you asked — a question that would slip here and there.

Chris shrugged slightly. “Fine, I guess. Still trying to figure out where to put everything. Matt thinks we need more stuff on the walls, but Nick keeps saying we don’t. It’s a whole thing.” He gave a faint smile, his voice lacking its usual warmth. “What about you? How was work?”

“Busy,” you said simply, picking at the edge of your blanket. “Came home, made dinner… I made too much again. I keep forgetting I’m just cooking for one now.” you admitted. Being so used to his presence all the time, you often made dinner for two people — it was still a hard adjustment.

Chris’ smile faltered, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

You shook your head quickly, brushing it off. “It’s not your fault. I just need to get used to it still — even if it’s been a little.”

The conversation then faded into silence, and for a moment, all you could hear was the faint rustle of Chris adjusting his laptop. He looked away, his jaw tense, and you felt the words building in your chest — words you’d been too scared to say for weeks right on the tip of your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Chris,” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we… uhm - can we talk about us?” the words slipping past your lips felt like a burn on your own tongue.

His gaze snapped back to you, his expression guarded. “What about us?”

You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I just… I feel like things have been different lately. At first, we were doing so well — texting all the time, FaceTiming every night. But now… I don’t know. It feels like we’re drifting apart.”

Chris’s brows furrowed at your words, his shoulders visibly tensing. “I’ve noticed it too,” he admitted after a pause. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

You blinked, surprised by his honesty. “You didn’t think I’d feel the same?”

“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his curls. “I didn’t want to say anything and make you think I was doubting us or something. And I’m not. I love you. But this…” He gestured vaguely, his hand moving between him and the screen. “This is hard. Harder than I thought it’d be.”

The crack in his voice made your heart ache, but you nodded, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. “It is hard. I miss you so much, Chris. Some nights, it’s all I can think about — how empty this place feels without you here. And then I start wondering… what if we can’t do this? What if it’s too much?”

Chris’s eyes widened slightly, his panic evident. “Wait, are you saying you want to—”

“No!” you interrupted quickly, shaking your head. “No — Chris, that’s not what I mean. I just… I don’t know how to fix this. And I hate feeling like we’re not as close as we used to be.”

Chris let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping. “I feel the same way,” he said quietly. “I hate that I can’t just drive over and see you when you’ve had a bad day. I hate that I can’t be there to hold you. And honestly… sometimes, I feel like I’m letting you down.”

“You’re not,” you said firmly, leaning closer to the screen. “Chris, you’re doing the best you can. We both are. But we need to be honest with each other if we’re going to make this work.”

He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. “You’re right. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to make things worse, but… I guess that’s only made things harder. I’ve missed you so much, and it’s been killing me not to tell you how much I’ve been struggling with this.”

Tears now spilled down your cheeks, and you wiped them away quickly with your sleeve. “I’ve been struggling too. And I was scared to tell you because… what if it made you think I didn’t believe in us anymore? I do, Chris. I love you so much. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with all of this on my own.”

His expression softened, and he leaned closer to the camera, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to deal with it alone, okay? We’re in this together. And if that means being brutally honest about how much this sucks sometimes, then that’s what we’ll do.”

You laughed softly through your tears, nodding. “Deal. And… maybe we can try to plan our visits better. I need to see you, Chris. I think that’ll help a lot.” you whispered, feeling yourself ease up a little at the thought of him here — with you.

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Funny you should say that… I’ve been looking at flights to Boston. I was going to surprise you, but… maybe we need this sooner rather than later. I’ll come next month. No excuses.”

“Really?” you asked, your heart swelling with hope.

“Really,” he said, his smile growing. “I need to hold you again. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

A weight lifted from your chest, and you smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks. “I’ll hold you to that,” you teased, your voice lighter.

Chris chuckled, the sound warming your heart. “I love you. And no matter how hard this gets, I’m not giving up on us. Ever.”

“I love you too,” you said softly. “And I promise… I’ll do everything I can to make this work too.”

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start. The rest of the night felt lighter — the ache in your chest still present but less. You both were more cheerful — joking around about random things and teasing him about how his hair was too messy — along with his room.

You smiled at your screen, watching as Chris did the same. His hand coming up to his lips and blowing you a kiss through the screen — and you blushed.

You’re just hoping that whatever was said tonight…was going to stick.

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obxsummer · 4 months ago

Text

good things fall apart // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: post-pogue reunion calls for campfire conversations, more walking, and PhDs in thiefology. jj asks you about your wishes and a near mercenary encounter has you on the run again (to no surprise ever).

warnings: usual obx drama, nothing too exciting

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

“I think next time we take a trip, we should maybe plan ahead.”

John B’s obvious statement made you burst into laughter. The lot of you were crowding around the campfire that was still trucking along through the day and night, conversation flowing to pass the time as you tried to come up with a game plan on your next move.

You were settled against JJ’s chest, his legs caging you in on each side as you leaned into him. His arms hung loosely around your chest and his back pressed into a log that he and Pope had managed to roll up the dune and situate as a seating option for your temporary setup. Neither of you wanted to separate from the other for as long as you could, so you kept close.

“We can stay in a hotel next time,” Sarah offered, smiling brightly at the idea. “Preferably one with a shower.”

Kie’s face turned up in disgust. “Oh yeah, I smell awful.”

“I smelled myself today,” John B grimaced in reaction. It was no secret you guys needed fresh clothes and a hot shower for sure.

“You’re not the only one who smelled you,” Sarah added, pinching the boy in his side as the group laughed with her.

Rhythmically, JJ’s fingers moved back and forth on your arm, the motion lulling you to sleep. “Hey, uh, you know what’s a good name for a baby? JJ.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but didn’t stop the small smile forming on your face. “The last thing we need are two of you running around.”

“What baby?” Cleo asked, eyeing you particularly. You shook your head slightly, letting your eyes drift to Sarah as a hint.

The blonde girl was much more enthusiastic to share the news, having come to terms on her own with it. She reached out for John B, gripping his fingers with hers as realization fell across Pope’s face. “No freaking way.”

“A Poguelet?” Cleo asked with a huge smile on her face, sitting up in Pope’s arms as the couple descended into chaos.

“You?” Pope pointed at Sarah but he was staring at John B in shock. “You’re gonna be a freaking dad!”

Your brother’s arms went up in the air in celebration. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“A little baby!” Cleo scrambled out of Pope’s embrace to press her ear against Sarah’s stomach dramatically, like she would be able to hear anything. Her lips continued to move as she spoke into Sarah’s dress, promising that she would be the favorite aunt if she had anything to do with it. You laughed at the sight, snuggling closer into JJ who was happy to tighten his hold on you.

“You’re so ill equipped for that!”

“I know, but it’s totally okay!”

“Congrats, holy shit!”

Your gaze moved slightly to the left where Rafe was lounging. It was hard to miss that he kept glancing over and it was even harder to admit that you kinda felt bad that he was finding out about Sarah’s pregnancy in this way.

You couldn’t imagine if John B found out you were pregnant from an overheard conversation and not you directly telling him. Which, sore subject and all, but your opinion still stood.

You sighed, biting your lip in consideration before shifting out of JJ’s warm grip. He looked up at you expectantly. “Be right back, okay?”

He nodded, accepting the small kiss you gave him before you stepped away from the group to sit in front of Rafe. Not too close, of course, but enough that only the two of you would hear. Your fingers tugged at your lip and you contemplated how to even begin the conversation.

There was a lot more to your “relationship” with Rafe than the two of you even noticed. Despite all of the hard feelings and trauma, you were both broken souls that were laid bare to the other at some point in time. Rafe didn’t realize it, but he’d spilled more of his deepest darkest thoughts to you when you were at their house. He found comfort in that. And whether you realized it or not, you’d been at your lowest in his presence, even if he was part of the cause.

“Um, thank you. For what you did earlier,” You started, your fingers picking at your shorts. “I’d probably be fish food if it wasn’t for you.”

Rafe glanced over at Sarah, a moment of silence passing before he answered. “Yeah, I uh, things might be different right now with me and Sarah but I didn’t want to stand by knowing I could’ve prevented that for someone else.”

The answer caught you off guard slightly. Rafe’s relationship with Sarah was not a good one, in any way, shape, or form. Maybe at one point it had been, but you’d yet to see it. It had only gotten worse since she’d returned with John B and when Rafe found out Ward had died, he’d been downright cruel to her.

Sarah had done her best to talk to him, especially when Rose declined all of her calls and Wheezie’s number was suddenly no longer available. She was rightfully scared of Rafe and his unpredictable anger, which had ended most of their conversations before they even happened.

“I can’t speak for her, but I think she would appreciate you trying to talk to her… in a calm manner,” You emphasized and looked at him pointedly.

Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Yeah, well she should’ve thought about that before she let Dad die. She chose John B, that was her decision, not mine.”

You didn’t say anything, knowing it wasn’t your place to explain what happened in El Dorado. It wasn’t like Rafe would understand anyway, since he didn’t seem to listen to anyone but himself. You were trying. Despite the screaming feeling in your chest that wanted you to run, you were trying. If you didn’t make peace with what happened, it would continue to have a hold on you. Not saying Rafe deserved (or would receive) any forgiveness, but acceptance was part of the grieving process and you owed yourself freedom from it all.

“Rafe, look at me.”

He nearly winced at the authority your tone held, the sound unfamiliar to him when it came from you. He looked up to see you staring at him with what he assumed was sympathy. You, sympathizing with him after all he’d done.

“Your dad is not here anymore, and I know that’s hard to deal with. Trust me. But his hold over you, the way he manipulated you, it left with him. You don’t have to do anything for him. In fact, everything you do now, is for yourself. Just… think about that, okay?”

You didn’t leave room for conversation after that and returned to JJ, feeling much lighter than you had in a long time.

Sometimes, it felt like all you guys did was walk. Or run, you were always running from something, too. And you know what, it was getting really annoying. Crossing the dunes of Morocco wasn’t on your bucket list at all, and the beating sun wasn’t helping in the slightest.

You were trying to keep a positive attitude, but man, today was not your day.

“Look, all is not lost. Like, we got a bead on Groff, and he can lead us to the crown. Happily ever after, right?” JJ theorized as the two of you walked hand in hand, your arms swinging slightly between you as the group followed in your footsteps.

You nearly laughed, “Oh, someone woke up on the right side of the bed today, huh?”

JJ rolled his eyes, playfully pushing into your side and nearly knocking you over before he pulled back on your hand to keep you upright. A shocked gasp left your mouth as you lost your footing before he stabilized you again, a laugh bubbling from his throat.

“Asshole,” You joked, bumping your hip with his.

“Hey,” He whined in faux annoyance. “You love me.”

You paused in your walk to face him. “You’re so lucky I do.” Shifting on your toes, you kissed him slowly, ignoring the complaints from your friends as JJ flipped them off in response. It was hard not to dismiss everything that had happened in the past 48 hours when you were all here, together and alive, safe and sound.

As long as everyone made it out of this, you could keep moving forward, one step at a time.

The walk across the dunes continued for what felt like hours (and likely was), before civilization came into view. Essaouira, Pope explained, was a major port city for Morocco. The landscape was a crowded one, with building after building stacked next to the other.

“What’s the plan here?” You asked, glancing back at your brother who was keeping Sarah close with her evident exhaustion. Everyone was dehydrated, sore, tired, and in need of a refresher.

“We locate the wharf and find Groff, yeah? That’s all we gotta do,” JJ said as you guys walked through the tunnel that opened into the bustling town, people flooding in all directions.

Your eyes widened at the surplus of individuals moving about and you turned to JJ to see his shocked expression. “That might be a little harder than we thought.”

Pope scoffed next to you, his expression unamused. “You think?”

JJ’s grip on your hand tightened before he took the step into the crowd and you reached your other hand back to grab ahold of Cleo’s, determined to keep the group together as you weaved your way through.

It was overwhelming as the voices blended together, people shouting at you for money or items, hands grabbing on to your clothing before Cleo smacked them away with a disgruntled disapproval.

“Babe, we gotta get out of here,” You huffed as someone else bumped into you causing you to stumble into JJ’s back.

Pope must’ve overheard because he was suddenly taking the lead, JJ following in step with him to get out of the chaos to somewhere quieter. It didn’t take long before you found yourself staring up at a large statue of a man with a menacing sword, the stone carved with delicate details.

“Yo, that Murat,” Pope explained as everyone came to a stop. “The Barbary pirate. That’s the guy Groff was telling us about.”

“Holy shit,” John B mumbled as he looked up at the statue. “That’s him, the one who made the map to find the crown.”

“Which might be closer than we think. Let’s go.” JJ started following the path again which unfortunately was taking you all back into another crowded space.

The heat was almost nauseating at this point and you hoped there would be a good opportunity to take a break here soon.

Apparently, Sarah was feeling the same way as John B eased her down on a nearby ledge. She was obviously pale and not feeling well. You separated from JJ as the group stopped walking and crouched next to the blonde girl. Your hands moved quickly to pull her hair off her neck and up into a bun, twisting a hair tie from your wrist to keep it out of her face.

“Nauseous?” You asked with a knowing feeling. Nobody had really eaten a sustainable meal since you left Poguelandia, just snacks and bits of cooked fish that you’d caught. It wasn’t a surprise she didn’t feel good.

She barely nodded, letting out a deep breath and resting her head on the stone wall behind her. “Really nauseous.”

You looked at John B and almost laughed at the stress on his face. “Bee, she’s fine. Just needs some food and water, okay?”

John B nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Everything okay?” Kie asked as she hovered over you.

“No-”

“I’m fine,” Sarah spoke over John B’s reply, her stubborn attitude peeking out as she made eye contact with you. You gave her a reassuring nod, hand resting on her shoulder as John B’s fingers brushed through her hair.

Turning, you looked up at JJ. “She needs something to eat and water.”

“Good luck with that, we don’t have any money,” Pope commented before Cleo glared at him and smacked his shoulder in reprimand.

“Don’t be so negative,” She hissed at him before addressing you again. “We can do it the old fashioned way.”

“A little five finger discount?” JJ followed her idea, his fingers waving teasingly. “I got my PhD in Thiefology.”

You shook your head at him, not necessarily pleased with the idea but realizing there really was no other option. “Guys, please be careful okay? We’re not in the States and-”

You were cut off by a $100 bill being shoved in your face.

Blinking in shock, you looked up to see Rafe holding out the crisp bill with an unamused look on his face. When you didn’t move to grab it, he gave you a pointed look and waved it slightly. “Baby steps?”

You nodded slightly, unsure what caused his sudden change but appreciating it nonetheless. Shock wearing off, your fingers pinched the money gently and he pulled back, resuming his uninterested appearance and stepping away from the group. Sarah looked at you, confused, to which you could only shrug.

You let out a deep breath and offered the money back to Pope. “Essentials, yeah? The more the better.”

Money in hand, Pope nodded and recruited JJ, Kie, and Cleo to come with him.

“Just hurry up with whatever dumb shit you guys do, alright?” Rafe called as your brother joined the group heading into the market, leaving you with Sarah. Apparently his momentarily kindness was spent as he yelled at them.

You gave him a sharp glare to which he raised his hands in surrender, walking away to entertain himself for the time being. With a sigh, you put your attention back on Sarah, who was already looking at you. “What?”

“Are you okay?” She asked with a knowing look on her face. “Talking to him?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. It doesn’t help any of us if we’re tiptoeing around each other the whole time. So I tried to talk to him about it last night. Obviously, it didn't work fully but we’re getting there.”

“Baby steps?” She repeated his words and you nodded.

Shrugging off your backpack, you tried to find any snacks within the mess of first aid supplies and JJ’s obnoxiously long charger cord (not that he needed that anymore, considering his phone was at the bottom of the ocean). Your fingers caught hold of a water bottle and you cracked it open for Sarah to drink.

She sipped slowly and closed her eyes to rest against the wall, her body finally beginning to cool off from the hike and beating sun. It didn’t take long before your group was back together, various food and clothing bundled in their hands.

Pope took your backpack to fill with the remainder of the items after passing them out, including some to Rafe who took them with a grunt of thanks. You bit into the fresh fruit aggressively, nearly devouring it in record timing.

Once everyone had eaten, you were moving again, weaving through the throngs of people in the direction of what you hoped would lead you to the wharf.

“I think we lost Rafe,” Cleo commented as the group slowed and sure enough, the elder Cameron was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s fine, he’ll catch up,” Sarah dismissed with a wave of her hand, figuring if anything he left on his own with the intent of finding Groff without waiting on you all. “He probably has his passport, anyway. Better him than us.”

You nodded in agreement with her words, figuring Rafe would’ve prepared for this trip better than you all and considering he had a shit ton of money with him, he’d be fine. “Agree.”

“Where we going?” Kiara asked, her eyes falling on Cleo as she held the fresh clothes in her hands. She was itching to change and get the ruined fabric off her body. Plus, you all stood out like sore thumbs and switching outfits would help blend.

“Here.” John B waved you all over to an empty hut. “You guys go first, we’ll switch.”

You ducked inside with Cleo, Sarah, and Kie to change quickly before the boys swapped spots and you all continued on your journey to the wharf. The new attire was much more comfortable, and although still unfamiliar, you felt more in place than before.

Eventually, you found yourself staring across hundreds of boats all packed in the tiny marine area.

“Groff was on Hollis’s boat, so look for something fancy,” JJ offered as he scanned the vicinity for the familiar yacht. “I mean, it’s gotta be here. This is the only wharf in town.”

“I don’t know about no fancy boat, but that’s Terrance’s boat,” Cleo spoke up, her finger pointed across the way to one of the vessels that was docked.

Pope wasn’t so convinced. “Are you sure?”

Cleo turned to him, unamused. “I grew up on that boat, man. I’d know that boat anywhere.”

“If his boat’s here, the Corsairs are here,” You added and crossed your arms over your chest. “Which also means Groff’s here.”

“And the one who killed Captain T.” Cleo smirked at the idea, her fingers already tracing the handle of her knife on her side.

“No lights, no motion. My vote is we go, see if we can use anything,” Kie said with a shrug.

You nodded in agreement and JJ took a step forward to move on before rushed disagreements fell from the others.

“No, wait. Not you. They know what you two look like,” Pope pointed to you as JJ stopped in his tracks. “Somebody else needs to go.”

“They know what half of us look like,” You countered. “Which leaves-”

“I’ll do it.”

You turned with wide eyes to Sarah, who’d spoken up. “What?”

She shrugged, confused by everyone’s reactions. “I’ll do it,” She repeated and rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, I can do things.”

“I believe you,” John B was quick to agree, though his tone said otherwise.

“They don’t know what I look like. I’ll do it, I can do it.”

“I’m coming with you!” He called to the blonde girl before pointing at you as he started to walk. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckled as John B took off after her to catch up, mumbling to himself in the process. The rest of you quickly agreed to keep an eye out, you and JJ claiming the high ground (JJ copied Obi Wan, don’t you fret) which left Cleo, Pope, and Kie to monitor down below.

“Not quite our dream vacation, huh?” You joked as you followed JJ up the path so you could gain a better view.

JJ scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Warm weather, interesting views, an unfamiliar location. Sounds dreamy to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his wording. “Sure. Interesting views my ass. I love looking at stray animals and getting slammed into for trying to walk from Point A to Point B. And there’s no time for me and you.”

“Hey, rumour has it, if you find the Blue Crown, you get a wish,” He offered as you guys came to a stop up on a bridge.

You leaned against the stone to face him with a smirk. “Oh, is that what they say now?” You asked, feigning your obliviousness.

JJ shrugged, closing the gap between you with each step closer. “It’s the legend, after all,” He hummed, his thumb resting on your lip gently before he leaned down to kiss you. “I’ll wish for us to go on the best vacation ever, how ‘bout that? No interruptions… just me and my soon-to-be wife.”

The title made you shiver and you laughed quietly, eyes closing as you kissed him again with a satisfied hum. JJ’s fingers squeezed your sides gently as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. Your back dug into the stone behind you, not that you were paying attention in the slightest to it.

“Let’s hear it, pretty girl. What’s your wish?” He asked quietly, his eyes staring into yours with interest.

You smiled at him and shook your head. “If I tell you, it’s not gonna come true.”

JJ forced a pout into his lip when you wouldn’t play along. “But I shared mine!”

Shaking your head, you kissed him again, nearly folding when he bit your lip gently. “You’d vote for a truck, babe. Suspension, LED, nice rims. All the bells and whistles.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter if you’re not going to be in the passenger seat.”

You tilted your head at him. “Who said my name won’t be stitched in the seat in the first place?”

The two of you were blissfully unaware of what was going on behind you until JJ’s eyes drifted for a split second and he caught sight of someone familiar. “Hey, that’s one of the Corsairs that kidnapped me and brought me on the ship.”

You frowned when you caught sight of the man he was referring to. JJ moved quickly, taking the spare pipe he’d found to bang on the cannon that was there for show, the noise echoing around you. Pope looked up, before knocking on the barrel with the ore Cleo had found for their use.

Their attempt at signaling John B and Sarah was interrupted by Arabic chanting across the space. Tilting your head in confusion, you looked over at JJ, who was clearly annoyed.

“It’s the call to prayer,” He answered your unspoken question.

It didn’t settle right in your chest that you had no way of alerting John B and Sarah of the man’s presence and you definitely needed to act quickly to fix it. Pope and Cleo stared back at you before you groaned to yourself. Kie, however, had different plans and explained something to the duo near her before giving you a thumbs up.

“What’s she doing?” You asked the rhetorical question, watching as the curly haired girl maneuvered her way through the crowd and purposefully bumped into the mercenary you were watching. When her hand landed on his arm, your jaw dropped. “Oh, shit.”

“Flirting with danger, nice move Kie,” JJ spoke quietly, keeping his head ducked down slightly so he was harder to see. You lounged above, trying to act as subtle as possible while keeping a close eye on your friend.

Noticing the call to prayer had ended, Pope grabbed the ore to bang against the empty barrel, the sound bouncing its way around the area and hopefully reaching John B and Sarah.

“There they are!” You said as you caught sight of the couple moving about on the boat. Kie started waving her arms wildly as the mercenary began to leave her, clearly not buying her distraction any longer. “Shit, J, let’s go!”

You darted down the path you’d taken up here, taking the turns as fast as you could to get to your brother faster. JJ apparently wasn’t satisfied with your speed and moved around you. “Be careful!”

“I know!”

You watched, horrified, as he grabbed another nearby ore and managed to collide with the mercenary, causing the gunshot to miss completely. JJ winced shortly after, his hand grabbing his side and you cursed yourself for not even thinking about fixing his injury when he’d showed up on the beach yesterday.

“Kie!” You called out for your friend as you ran over to JJ who was scooping the discarded gun off the ground. Pope was heading in the direction of Sarah and John B, but Cleo was nowhere to be found. Kiara accepted your hug instantly, her hands shaking with adrenaline as the two of you caught up to JJ.

The question of Cleo’s location was answered with a car horn as the girl came flying around the bend in an open air truck. You laughed at her timing, all of you meeting and practically falling into the car with zero coordination.

“How did you get this?” Pope asked as he flung into the seat next to her.

“I stole it!”

A scream almost slipped out as she took off and you nearly fell into Kiara completely, the two of you trying to balance with the sharp motion. JJ was on your other side, yelling at Cleo to floor it as if she wasn’t speeding already.

When you made it out of the crowded wharf area, you breathed a sigh of relief and moved forward to shove your head between your brother and Sarah. “You guys okay?” You asked, your hand squeezing the back of John B’s neck. You nearly gagged at the sweat on his skin and wiped your hand off on his shirt with a huff.

“We’re okay, we’re okay,” Sarah repeated as she tried to catch her own breath, her fingers tangled with John B’s on the seat between them.

Sliding back into your seat, you whistled at the events that just occurred. “This is only the beginning, y’all. Hope you’re ready.”

JJ laughed next to you, his arm coming to rest across your shoulders to pull you into his side so he could kiss your temple.

“Let’s do this shit.”

a/n: sorry she's a lil short but we're goin into the craziness 🥴

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